Heart Breaker (Nashville Nights #1)

Especially when his tongue flicked over her nipple. Suddenly it seemed like Chance was everywhere. His hand had wandered between her thighs and he was cupping her sex. His mouth was doing insanely creative things to her nipples and breasts, and his other hand was holding his weight up without strain, which she had to admit she found sexy. When did the man have time to work out? She certainly didn’t have a spare minute to hit the gym herself.

“You feel so damn good,” he said, cupping the swell of her breast. “You’re fucking juicy, JoJo.”

It was meant to be a compliment, and she was going to take it that way. “So bite me, Rivers. Just sink into me.”

“I think I will.” He shifted and, without warning, yanked her shorts and panties down.

When he lifted her up off the bed by the hips and brought her sex to his lips, she let out a low moan. “Chance…” she breathed.

He tasted and taunted her thoroughly, making circles around her clitoris until she thought she was going to come apart. Then he turned his head, bringing his lips to the flesh of her inner thigh before returning to slide his tongue over her. Jolene gripped the comforter on the bed, eyes half closed as she let him do his thing. She felt like she was floating above the bed, her mind blissfully blank for a change.

When she tumbled over the edge, it was an easy, relaxed orgasm, her cries honest and filled with appreciation. “Chance, yes, yes.”

Chance loved the sound of Jolene’s pleasure mingling with his name. There was nothing he enjoyed more than making her shatter for him. It was one of the few times when she well and truly let down her guard. When she settled back down, breathing hard, he gave her some lingering attention, then raised his head and grinned at her. He settled her backside down onto the bed. “Is that what you meant?”

“Yes, sir, that is precisely what I meant.”

“Anything else I can do for today?”

“You can bring that magnificent penis right on over here.”

She was good for his ego, he had to admit. But that wasn’t the attraction. The tug between them was elemental. “I suppose I could do that,” he drawled.

First he hovered over her, taking in every inch of her body in all its delectable beauty and her satisfied smile. His time with Jolene was limited, he knew that, and he wanted to savor. Draw it out. Remember this when he was a crusty old man alone with his bottle of whiskey. Remember what he’d had for a brief moment in time.

For a songwriter, he was constantly reminded he was shit with words. He could never seem to open his mouth and explain how he felt. So he would have to just show Jolene that she mattered to him. That he had regrets.

“God was smiling when He made you,” he murmured. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

Her expression softened and her eyes grew glassy. She didn’t speak, she just reached out for him, running her fingers over his cheek, his lips. For a heartbeat he thought she was going to say she loved him. He could have sworn it was hovering on her lips, and he felt himself tense, craving that confession from her, while at the same time it absolutely terrified him.

But it was wishful thinking on his part. She merely whispered, “You are not so bad yourself.”

He let out the breath he’d been subconsciously holding, and he slipped a hand under her ass and pushed into her wet heat. For a second he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, savoring the moment, the sensation. There had been plenty of women before Jolene, and he had to assume there would be a fair amount in his future, but no woman could ever make him feel like this—completely consumed. Enveloped. Held.

Which made it even stupider that they couldn’t get it to work. If he couldn’t make it work with her, he couldn’t with anyone. Which was a compliment to her, though it didn’t say great things about him. The future stretched ahead of him as an endless parade of women he’d use for company, momentary oblivion. That pissed him off, so he opened his eyes and focused on Jolene. They locked eyes and he started to move, gaining speed quickly, thrusting so hard that she shifted backward on the bed with each push, her eyes going wide. The only sounds were the creak of bedsprings and her exhalation with each of his rough slams inside her.

The tightness in his balls increased and he ground his teeth together, the rush toward explosion coming fast and furious. He thought about slowing down, making it last, but Jolene let out a cry that indicated her orgasm, so he just let go, barreling through his own release, refusing to make a sound. It was off-the-charts fucking amazing, but she didn’t need to know how much it meant to him. That was his own shit to deal with.

“Well,” Jolene said after he stopped moving.

He stared down at her, trying to remember how to breathe. That wasn’t just sex. Not by a long shot.

“That was sexy.”

“Yeah?” He couldn’t resist leaning down and giving her a lingering kiss, his feelings overwhelming. He needed to hold himself together. “So was that hummer you gave me.”

It surprised him, but her cheeks got a little pink. “You’re welcome.”

He laughed. “Are you blushing?”

“What? No. Of course not.” She frowned at him, but the pink graduated to crimson.