It was hard to gauge whether the guy was taking a shot, but just in case, Chance gave a nod to let the man know he’d seen him. He wasn’t going to smile, and he knew that by himself, he wasn’t nearly as interesting as he was with Jolene by his side. So he just got back into Jolene’s truck and exited the lot. When he pulled up to the cabin, he checked his phone quickly. Sure enough, recent tweets from a gossip site claimed “Hart-Rivers secrets soon to be revealed.”
Chance wished someone would reveal them to him. He was starting to feel like a chess piece being pushed around on a board, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Lucy, I’m home,” he said as he strolled into the kitchen where Jolene was bent over the refrigerator, treating him to a stellar shot of her ass. “And you have some explaining to do.” She didn’t, but it sounded like a perfect way to fire her up.
She stood up and glanced back at him. “I never explain anything. It’s a company policy.”
“Then let’s get drunk and screw.” He plunked the bags down on the counter and went for her.
Jolene tossed her blond hair back. “Let’s skip the drinking and get straight to the screwing.”
That was why he had been willing to put up with cameras in his face. That sexy confidence she had in spades. “Cheers to that, baby.”
It took sixty seconds to walk her up against the wall and raise her hands over her head. There was no stopping now, any more than they’d been able to stop the first time around.
Chapter 6
Jolene’s mama had always told her she didn’t need to stick a finger in the fire to know it was hot. Jolene knew she should not be engaging Chance in verbal foreplay. Or literal foreplay. Or any play. But here she was, and it had taken him all of sixty seconds to back her against the wall, her hands above her head, his body crowding all into her personal space.
“Ginny says we should relocate,” she said, her voice husky. “What do you think?”
His eyes swept over her lips, then back up to meet her gaze. “I think no matter where we go, the cameras will find us.”
That look. That damn look. There was no hope of resisting him when his hooded gaze scraped over her so hungrily, possessively. Growing up in a small town with D-size breasts, she had experienced plenty a lustful eye focused on her. But not a single man had ever made her as limp as Chance did. Lord, she had missed it.
“I think sometimes you have fine ideas.”
“Sometimes?” One of his hands was on her waist. The other still held her arms up. He buried his head in her neck and rained soft kisses on the delicate skin there.
Jolene shivered, desire tugging deep at her insides. She shouldn’t let him do this. The man had just accused her of manufacturing their entire relationship. She should knee him in the nuts and make him sing soprano for that little stunt. But she did no such thing. Instead, she sighed. Damn it all to hell. Why was it so hard to maintain control with him? Why couldn’t she be sassy and bold and shove him down on the floor and take what she wanted and walk away? Here she was being completely passive and waiting for him to dictate the terms of their play with his behavior.
She sighed again.
“What’s wrong, JoJo?” He raised his head and kissed first one corner of her mouth, then the other.
The heat of his body pressed against her. She turned her head slightly, drawing in some cooler air. “Why is everything so complicated?” It was a totally rhetorical question. She just wanted…something. She wasn’t sure what.
“Because it isn’t simple.” He let go of her hands and lowered his arm so he could rub the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “So let’s take it back to what we know. There are two things we’re good at together, Jolene. Making music and making love. We already wrote a song today.”
The anticipation was killing her. She wished he would just take her and get it over with. Take the edge off this itch she felt.
Which was not wise. If she was going to do this, she might as well let him draw it out and enjoy the hell out of Chance. But first she needed to stop letting her vagina call the shots and establish some rules. “This is just sex,” she told him.
“What?” he murmured, nuzzling at her ear. “Of course it is. It’s not washing the car, that’s for damn sure.”
His tongue was making tickling strokes across her skin, distracting her. She couldn’t be distracted. She had to be in control. His other hand slid down her side, resting on her waist. She’d put on a tank top and little denim shorts after the shower and subsequent door slamming, and it was easy enough for him to slip his fingers between the shirt and shorts and stroke her warm skin.
What was she doing again? Oh. Right. Establishing rules. “I mean, this is just sex. We have to be clear on that. When we leave here, we go back to things the way they were before.”
“Which before?” Now his lips were trailing across her jaw, down her neck, over the swell of her breast, while his hand crept deeper into the apex of her thigh, brushing over her sex through the denim.
“Before today. Not before-before.” Her cheeks felt flushed and she wasn’t even sure what the hell she was saying. “It doesn’t mean we’re dating.”