Breathless (Texas Nights Series Book 3)

by Lex Martin

  Taking care to avoid her tight nub, I lick around and around until she yanks my hair. When I finally give her a long lick up her center and settle in on that one spot, she comes with a scream and pulses on my fingers.

  Once the final shudders work through her, I gently slide out of her. I wipe my face with my T-shirt, collapse next to her, and pull her to me.

  Closing my eyes, I will my body to calm down. I’m not a quid pro quo kind of guy. Getting a woman off is its own special treat. I don’t expect reciprocation, and if Jojo’s too tired, I would understand.

  “Did you enjoy that, baby?”

  “Mm-hmm. So much.”

  I kiss her forehead and run my hand up and down her back. I’m starting to wonder how I’ll ride home with this monster erection when she settles over my lap.

  “Let’s do that one thing we haven’t yet.” That gets my attention.

  She unbuttons my jeans and reaches in to free me. I’m leaking on her hand, and she uses it to lube me up.

  I hiss through my teeth when she strokes that one spot on my swollen head.

  “Do… do you have a condom?” She bites her lip.

  I jerk in her hand, unable to mask my body’s enthusiasm. But I want to be sure this is the right thing for her.

  “Babe, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. I don’t wanna rush you.” I brush my thumb over her lower lip to release it. “Only what you’re comfortable doing.”

  She looks me in the eyes. “I want this with you. I want you.”

  “I want you too.” So damn much.

  28

  Joey

  A cool breeze blows over my heated skin as Logan shifts me to the ground. When I see the look in his eyes, my heart goes crazy, skittering in my chest like a runaway colt. Because we’re really doing this.

  Wanting to commit every moment to memory, I rub the stubble on his handsome face. Thread my fingers through his thick hair. Stare at the man who has always owned my heart.

  I almost say the words, almost tell him I love him, but I force myself to hold it in. Just because I’m head over heels about him doesn’t mean he feels the same about me. Logan cares about me, that much I know. Loves me as a friend. Cares for me as a lover. But is he in love with me? I’m too scared to test those waters, so I kiss him before I say something I might regret, though it runs through my mind:

  I’ve always loved you.

  I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you.

  Do you think you could love me?

  He leans over me, pulling back at the last moment to rub his nose against mine, a small moment of intimacy that has me sighing and wishing I was brave enough to say the words in my heart.

  We kiss until I’m out of my mind, and then we push down his jeans and reach for each other, desperate and hungry to connect.

  His hard body moves over mine, shooting tingles over my sensitive skin. Feeling the way he fits, rubbing his steely length between my thighs, brings me close to the edge again. It reminds me of our first night together at the coast when I sat on his lap and made him come.

  “Logan, I need you,” I gasp.

  He sits up, kneeling between my legs to reach for his wallet. I take that moment to appreciate his body. All of that lean muscle. The poetic grace in his slender hips and chiseled thighs. He’s the picture of virility with that proud erection jutting between us.

  He rifles through his wallet and pauses, only to drop his head forward with a loud groan.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Fuck.” He scrubs his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a condom.” After a moment, he flops down next to me and covers his face with his arm. His chest rises and falls like he’s out of breath. “I hadn’t planned to get naked out here.”

  A twisted side of me smiles that Logan’s bent out of shape at the thought of being denied sex with me.

  I run my hand over his chest, down over the trail of hair on his lower abdomen, and I whisper, “I’m on the pill.” He didn’t ask before.

  He lowers his arm just enough to make eye contact. “I’m clean. I got tested in the spring.”

  My brows rise because it’s July. I don’t want to think about his revolving bedroom door, but I’m not going to make a dumb decision because I’m being naive.

  His eyes soften. “Jo, I haven’t been with anyone in months. Certainly not since I was tested, but it’s been much longer than that. Probably not since last fall.”

  Last fall?

  For some reason, that makes me emotional. Heat stings my eyes, and I turn away.

  “What’s going on, baby? Tell me what’s wrong. Is this about having sex? We don’t have to do anything else tonight. I told you—”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  He must sense I need time to collect my thoughts because he rubs my back.

  Finally, when I can talk, it comes out a rasp. “I left for Florida to get over you. Because I didn’t think you’d ever see me as more than a friend. And… I basically slept with someone because I thought it would help me move on, but it didn’t.” I swallow. “The whole time I was there, I figured you were back home being your normal player self, but now that I know you weren’t, I wish… I wish I hadn’t been with anyone else. I wish you had been my first.”

  I can’t help the tears that leak out of my eyes or that I spilled my guts on him.

  He pulls me to his chest where I cry harder.

  When I can speak, I mumble, “You probably hate the idea that someone you’re with could catch feelings for you, so we don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re serious about me staying after the wedding, I want to be honest with you. And I have my own baggage, which apparently results in me bawling all over you when we’re supposed to be having hot, sweaty sex.”

  Another dream of mine that I’ve probably just shot to hell, thanks to my verbal vomit.

  “God, Jo,” he says against the shell of my ear. “I wish I’d done so many things differently. I wish I’d been your first. I can’t go back and undo my mistakes, but I can clear this one thing up right now. I’m a damn lucky man to have you in my life. And you’re not alone in this relationship. I have feelings for you too.”

  We lean apart until a few inches separate us, and he cradles my face to wipe away the tears with his thumb.

  “You mean so much to me, Joey.” He repeats the words that have me melting. “Of course I have feelings for you.”

  When I see the earnestness in his expression, I smile, and he smiles back before kissing me softly. He kisses me until we’re tangled around each other. Until that frantic need has built again.

  Pausing, he tugs off my shirt, which has pooled around my waist, before we fit our bare bodies back together. I shudder at the intensity, at the intimacy of feeling every part of him against every part of me.

  I feel him nudge my entrance.

  “Yes.” It’s the answer to his unasked question.

  He stares into my eyes. “Babe, tell me if something hurts or if you need me to slow down.”

  His hand snakes between us. My attention dips to where he grabs himself and runs his head through my folds, finally notching his head at my core.

  Instinctively, I spread my legs farther as he pushes into me.

  We both groan, and even though it’s a snug fit, once he lets me adjust to his size, he feels so good, I have to squeeze my eyes shut.

  “Tight,” he grits out. “So wet. So tight. You feel amazing.”

  I’m shocked by how good this feels after my horrendous first time, but then this is Logan. Everything with him is always better.

  Then he starts to move. Slowly at first, while he stares down at me with so much heat in his gaze, I might combust.

  He increases the tempo, building us. Finally, he pumps and thrusts until our bodies slap together. Until I’m gasping and panting and desperate.

  “Oh, God. I’m gonna come.” I reach between us and focus on getting to the goal, but a glance at what’s happening down there,
just barely visible in the moonlight, gives me inspiration. I lower my hand and spread my fingers on either side of him and squeeze just before he slides back into me.

  “Fuckkk. Do that again.”

  Somehow, he’s thicker inside of me, and I arch my back, overwhelmed by sensations and so close. Logan latches onto my nipple and sucks and bites, and that’s all it takes for me to fly apart. Every part of me tenses. Every cell and nerve ending in my body catches fire and detonates. I’m still shaking with my release when I remember to do that finger move again for Logan, and then he pulses into me.

  We’re breathless and sweaty, and I’m so sated, it doesn’t matter that we’re only lying on a quilt because I might sleep into next week.

  Logan presses a soft kiss to my forehead and rolls to the side, bringing me with him so that we stay entwined.

  “You’re amazing, Jo.” His hand travels up and down my back in a sweet caress. “That was—Christ, I don’t have words.” He mumbles something to himself and then kisses me again. “I didn’t even know you were the part of me that was missing.”

  I’m speechless, wondering if this is a dream.

  A beautiful, perfect dream.

  After a few moments, he gently separates us and gives me a playful smile. “I think I made a mess.”

  I’m not prepared for anything to gush out of me, but that’s a dumb realization since he went in bare. But before I can consider how I’ll be able to ride Cinnamon Pie back to the farm like this, Logan grabs a few napkins and quickly wipes me down. I want to be embarrassed because this has to be the most intimate thing I’ve ever done, but he’s sporting a giant grin as he kneels between my thighs.

  “You’re getting a kick out of this?” I ask, laughing.

  “Kinda. Yeah.” He shrugs. “That’s hot.” He motions to my very exposed area, and I feel my whole body flush. My eyebrows lift, and his smile widens. “What can I say? I’m a perv.” But then his smile disappears, and gone is the teasing tone from his voice. “I’ve never done it without a condom before. You’re my first.” We stare at each other. “I like that, Bitsy. I want more firsts with you.”

  “Yeah?” I hate how eager that comes out, but tonight feels too surreal.

  He flops down next to me, naked and still hard, and wraps his arms around me. “In case I haven’t told you lately, you rock my fucking world.”

  No, Logan. You rock mine.

  29

  Joey

  Sleeping in the nude is a new experience for me. One I’m thoroughly enjoying.

  I wake in Logan’s bed with his hand on my breast, his hard chest at my back, and his thick length against my rear.

  “Morning.” I reach behind me and thread my fingers through his hair to gently scratch his head, and he grunts in approval and kisses my neck. His whiskers scrape against my sensitive skin, and I shiver.

  It’s a small miracle we made it back home last night after our romp by the river. We collapsed into bed and woke once in the middle of the night to make love again. Fortunately, I didn’t cry again. Couple goals!

  “Are you sore?” His sexy voice, thick with sleep, sends another round of chills down my body.

  “A little.” I squeeze my thighs together and still. “Okay, yeah, I’m sore.”

  “Sorry, baby. We shouldn’t have done it that second time.”

  I grind back against him because even though I’m achy, he feels too good to stop. “I’m not complaining.”

  “Mmm.” He thrusts against me. “There’s something to be said for waking up with a beautiful woman.”

  “You sweet talker. Bet you say that to all the girls.”

  I’m smiling and starting to wonder if I could test the waters today if we go slow when Logan rolls me onto my back.

  His hair is going in every direction, and his jaw is covered in stubble. But it’s those piercing blue eyes staring down at me that I want to get lost in.

  “Jo, you’re the only woman who’s ever stayed the night in this bed.”

  Oh.

  Remembering those sweet words he told me last night, I palm his chin, and he leans into me. “I like being the first.”

  What I mean to say is I like being the only one, but I can’t take back this Freudian slip, and the idea that someone likely will come after me smacks me like a Mack truck.

  Fortunately, he’s kissing me and not parsing my words. I remind myself to take what I can get. To enjoy being together for however long we have. After all, we might end because I have to leave, a thought that could make me cry again if I let myself think about it too long. But if I get emotional again while we’re in bed, I might give both of us a complex, so I try to focus on the positive.

  I’m grateful for the distraction of Logan’s dirty words in my ear and the sharp bites he gives my shoulder and breasts.

  After a mutually gratifying shower where I come so hard against his mouth, I’m pretty sure the next town over hears my screams, we get dressed for the day and head to his brother’s.

  “You’re awfully sweet to help out at the ranch.” Logan gives me a lopsided smile as he drives one-handed, his other hand on my thigh.

  There’s nothing special about how he’s dressed—just faded jeans, a fitted T-shirt, boots, and a baseball cap with a rounded bill—but it’s quintessential Logan. Playful and sweet and so handsome, it hurts to look at him.

  We turn the corner and the sun streams through the window and down on my face. I close my eyes to soak in the heat and bask in this quiet moment of happiness. “I love hanging out at the ranch. Nothing I’ve ever done there has felt like work to me. Tending to the horses, hanging out with the kids, watering the garden—it’s a pleasure.”

  He makes a sound like he doesn’t believe me.

  “What?” I open my eyes and turn toward him.

  “What about that time I somehow talked you into cleaning out the stalls? I think you were in middle school. That couldn’t have been fun. Hell, the pitchfork was bigger than you.”

  He chuckles, and I shake my head with a laugh.

  “I got to hang out with you the whole afternoon, and your mom gave us ice cream when we were done. We never had ice cream at home. Besides, I’ve always adored the horses.” And you too, dummy.

  He’d gotten in trouble—what else is new?—and had to clean and polish the tack and shovel out the stalls. So I did the stalls and he did the rest, since the saddles were too heavy for me and I had a hard time reaching the upper pegs in the equipment room. We kept each other company, joking all afternoon.

  I shrug. “The hard stuff isn’t so difficult when you love the rest.” This is something Tori and I talk about often, how unexpected blessings blunt the sharp edges of life.

  Logan doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then he reaches for me and kisses the back of my hand. “You’re a pretty kickass girl.”

  My heart skips a couple of beats. I smile back. “Because I helped you with your chores?”

  “Because you’ve always got my back. Every fucking time. And you have the best attitude of anyone I know.”

  I’m not sure anything can wipe the smile off my face for the rest of the drive.

  As we stroll up the front walkway of Ethan’s house, Logan tosses his arm over my shoulders and says, “Been meaning to ask… Where’d you learn that finger move you used on me last night? It was hot as fuck.”

  He pauses to pull me in front of him so he can rock his erection against me.

  I blush furiously and giggle. “Where else? Porn. And seriously, how can you be hard again?”

  “Because I’ve gotten off with you three times in the last twelve hours?” He presses a wet kiss to my neck, and I reach back to grip his hair, the laughter dying on my tongue because, yeah, I’m ready to go too. His mouth is on mine a hot second later.

  We’re in our own little world of two when Mila opens the front door, turns around, and hollers, “Logan and Joey are making out on the front porch, y’all. Kissy, kissy, kissy!” She makes smacking sounds, and I c
over my face with a laugh.

  Logan drags me into the house by the hand. “That wasn’t making out,” he grumbles. “I was merely appreciating my girlfriend.”

  “Ohhhh.” Mila bats her eyelashes as she hops around and sing-songs, “Logan has a girlfriend! Logan has a girlfriend!”

  I’m Logan’s girlfriend. Officially. I smile like I just won a million bucks.

  Mila stops suddenly, and her eyes widen. “If y’all get married, does that mean you’ll be my aunt, Joey?”

  Logan and I both freeze. I cringe, hating that I might need to strangle this child whom I love so dearly.

  Because I might be new to relationships, but I know better than to talk weddings this early. Especially with a guy like Logan. A woman starts talking marriage, and he probably wants to bolt for the fences like an escaped convict.

  I look up and see Logan’s entire family and Tori’s hovering in the kitchen, watching us, waiting for us to say something.

  Ethan chides his daughter. “Mila. Honey, stop teasing your uncle.”

  Tori mouths, “Sorry.”

  Ignoring my mortification, I put on the fakest smile of my life and joke, “Marry Logan? It’s way too early too know if he’s the right guy for me.” I saunter with a forced bravado toward the counter to grab an apple. “What if he picks his nose or leaves wet towels on the floor in the bathroom? A girl has to know these things before making that kind of decision.”

  Mila considers this and turns to Logan. “Do you pick your nose?”

  “I pick my nose and my butt. Every day.” He reaches for her face and pretends to pick hers while she squeals and laughs.

  When she darts under the table, he reaches for me and sticks his finger in my nostril.

  “Oh, my God, you’re gross.” I laugh and slap him away while he bites my neck affectionately.

  When we stop, the room is still staring at us.

  Ethan clears his throat and smirks. “How did the horseback ride go last night? Did ya get a lot of riding done?” Tori smacks his arm with a snort.