Page 36 of False Promises

My cock throbbed against my lower belly, ready to play, desperate for attention.

I rolled a condom over, flipped Savannah around, onto her all fours. With one push, I entered her from behind and rammed into her with complete abandon. My balls grew sensitive, and a sheen of sweat covered my back. Tremors shook her body as I fucked her until all the angst polluting my life vanished. Until all my thoughts deserted me and I felt lighter than I’d been in years. She met me thrust for thrust, her fingernails leaving imprints on my thighs. Using her finger, she rubbed the mound between her legs, clenching so hard around me when she came that she milked my cock.

Later, when I left her room, spent but energized at the same time, my lips were permanently bent into a tiny curl lifting their corners.

The next morning, in my own hotel suite, after a two-hour nap, I gathered my stuff, ready to board the private jet flying me back to Tennessee. Taking me back home.

The images of the previous night swam in my head, leaving me with a permanent erection.

I had a show scheduled in Las Vegas next month, and right now, the thought of making a detour to Los Angeles while I was there seemed like a perfect idea.

A cocky, smug grin stretched my lips. Yeah, I needed another night with Savannah Prince.

To fuck the first one out of my system.

Because I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until I got a do-over.

That I knew for sure.

I had played with fire, and now I yearned for the burn.

10

CARTER

For almost two hours, I rocked the stage of the Pelican, the casino I was playing at tonight. Over forty-thousand people were singing along with me as I strummed the last verse of “Don’t Ask Me,” the song I wrote for Dahlia when we were twenty and the lines of our relationship got blurry for a moment. One night, when I felt vulnerable, I played it for her, hoping she would understand the extent of my feelings better through music. We had a long talk afterward, but it didn’t change the status of our relationship. Just like the one I wrote when we were fifteen and I had planned to lay my heart bare to her. I had no intention of recording the song, but she convinced me it had to be on my first solo album. And that year, it was awarded the Best Country Song of The Year title at a renowned music award ceremony.

The crowd was screaming, chanting, on their feet, waving their arms in the air.

With a slow perusal, I tried to burn the sight and feeling into my memory. To anchor it to my heart.

The song ended, and with the crook of my arm, I wiped the sweat pearling on my forehead. “You guys want another encore?” I asked, breathless, but unable to tame my grin.

The energy tonight was contagious. Electric.

I pivoted to face my musicians, and they all nodded. This song wasn’t planned, but sue me, I couldn’t walk off the stage right now. I was exhausted—in the best possible way—but no matter what, like a drug shot straight into my veins, I craved more.

I strummed the opening chords of “Forever,” and my musicians joined me on the first chorus. And so did the crowd, singing along.

My lips stretched wider. This. This was the definition of perfect.

“You guys have been incredible.” I waved a hand above my head. “Good night, Las Vegas.”

The enthusiastic cheers and applauses filled me with renewed energy. I ran offstage, clapping hands with Taylor and my musicians.

Once they all dispersed, I focused my attention on my head of security. “Did you find what I requested?”

A single nod. “Yes. And I arranged for you two to meet tomorrow. Anything else?”

I shook my head, a foreign feeling zipping through me. “Nope. That’s all. Thanks again. I’ll shower and change and meet you in thirty.”

He walked me to the green room. “I’ll be right outside the door,” he said, adjusting his earpiece. I had an entire security detail dedicated to me every time I gave a concert, all under Taylor’s orders. “You have that TV appearance tomorrow morning at nine, then we’ll drive to California. Unless you prefer I book us a flight.”

“Nah. Driving is fine. It will give us more time to catch up. Any news from Ry?”

“No, but June called mid-show. She booked you two engagements for when you are in LA. She’ll send the details in the morning. Riley will be in touch around noon to discuss some additional concert dates with you.”

“Thanks.”