Chase Elliott Quotes

Cowboys with impeccable manners who look like they can sweep you off your feet one minute and rail you until you forget your own name in the back seat of their truck the next.

For the readers ready to wear the hat, and get railed in the back seat until you forget your own name… Daddy Colt has a spot in his truck just for you.

I want to punch him in his smug fucking face and knee him in the balls. Actually, scratch that, I want to string him up by his balls and castrate him like a bull.

You're my wildflowers after the winter, you're the first crackle in the fireplace when it heats up, you're the sun chasing away storm clouds. Baby, you're my goddamn miracle.

Well, I want to be bent over in the back seat while you fuck me so good I forget my name, cowboy.” “Christ, sweetheart.” Heart thundering, my neck heats, and I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Such filthy fucking words for such a pretty little mouth.

Yet we all dragged our cyborgian carcasses across the trashed planet every day. We all chased various forms of intoxication, hoping to soothe our savage souls. I could see myself some twenty years hence, a gray-haired troll slumped on a barstool, my nose a bulbous mess of clotted capillaries.

He didn’t notice me sitting in the lounge with my coffee and Kindle while I warmed up in front of the fire. And my greedy fucking eyes ate up every inch of his muscled torso.

I had to come and tell you, had to see your beautiful green gaze fall on me at least one final time, and tell you that every night, these emerald eyes are all I see… all I will ever see will be you.

I don’t know what comes over me, but as I help swing her up into the saddle, the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I promise, I can be gentle.

Whereas I needed an entire week to recover after a single night out.

She’s just a hot little cunt parading around in front of me, that’s all it is.

Leaving my heart fluttering a wild, pathetic rhythm that answers only to the name of this cowboy.

Christ, Layla. Just do your fucking job.” He pins me with a glare that is all too familiar by now, but no less intimidating. “And if I catch you trying to sneak off and get out of doing your duties by leaving the stables today, I’ll put you over my damn knee.

Unless the rest of that sentence is please eat my cunt until I forget my own name, I don’t want to hear another word.

I’ll tell you now, I intend on spending as much time as possible licking this sweet little pussy of yours. And I’ll gladly spend all night with my head between your thighs without you touching me once.

Can I hate the circumstances that helped me find the person who I’m almost certain is the great love of my life? Even if I can never have him and never tell him?

I’m going to need to figure out a way to deal with the fact I’m up here all alone with a very off-limits man.

I shouldn’t admit this, so please don’t say anything back, Layla. But one look at you, and I’m lost inside you. I’m sinking deeper, but it’s the opposite of drowning. For what it’s worth, whatever this is, I want it so bad it fucking aches.

My cowboy fucks like a god and treats me like a princess, and I’m so painfully fucking aware that our time together is coming to an end.

That you’ll let me follow you around this earth, wherever you want to go from here on out, because it doesn’t matter how much I love the land and the ranch, I love you more. More than I ever thought was possible for an asshole like me. You own my black fucking heart, and I couldn’t go another day without telling you how deeply I’m in love with you.

I’m not going to say those words. We’re not going to, baby. Not here. Not in a bathroom. They’re right there on my tongue. You know they are, and they’re all yours, but it won’t be like this because I would hate myself forever.

We knew the boys weren't worthy of passing judgment on us. And yet we spent our lives chasing approval.

I hate that she’s curious about me, even though I’m a fucking dickhead. There’s nothing good that can come of being interested in the darkness that lies beneath the surface of Colt Wilder.

He’s too honorable, and I’m too much of a good girl. But, fuck, if I didn’t wish there was another time and place for us where the invisible lines keeping us from giving in to that electric pull didn’t exist.

Would he ever cross that invisible line to take what he wants? I don’t know, but one thing I’m certain of, is that the longer I stand here, the more we’re both tiptoeing toward the edge of something forbidden.

Fuck me bare, cowboy. I want to feel all of you. I want to feel the way you fill me with your cum.

Do you want to be a dirty little cowboy cum slut for me?

This is the real danger out here in small towns like this. Cowboys with impeccable manners who look like they can sweep you off your feet one minute and rail you until you forget your own name in the back seat of their truck the next.

Even if she’s not my girl, I can at least lay a claim on her so no asshole around town dares to look twice her way.

Then tell me why every night is a battle, Layla. Tell me why I have to damn near lock my own door.

Look at you, baby.” He lets out a low growl. “Jesus Christ. The things I want to do to you.

the ways I want Layla is utter madness.

I’d rather stab myself in the eye than be the person who causes her to have tears in hers again. She deserves so much goddamn better.

Growly, dirty-talking Colt is my weakness, and this man just guaranteed that I’m going to be his perfect slut for the rest of the day.

The mouth on this man. He coats me from head to toe in a dizzying, wanton kind of temptation -- the kind that screams and demands absolutely everything he just promised.

How else am I supposed to survive this? To deny this thing between us that shouldn't happen? How the fuck am I supposed to survive her?

There is no having to do anything. I've been craving this, Layla. I'll eat you for every meal. You are goddamn beautiful and the sweetest fucking thing I've ever tasted. So, let me take care of you until you're shaking and soaking my face like a good girl.

He's got muscles honed by years of working hard and definitely could toss a girl like me around with ease. But he's off limits.

What the fuck does a pretty young thing like her see in a grumpy old asshole like me, anyway?

Would I change a thing, knowing who she was? The worst part of me -- the selfish asshole who wants to do everything in his power to keep this girl -- knows I wouldn't.

This man is stunning, a little rough around the edges, with a lump at the bridge of his nose hinting at stories from his past. The cowboy is just my type, only I've never actually met someone like him in the flesh before. He's compelling, attractive, enticing in a way that makes my skin prickle with excitement.

It's so fucking hard not to want to touch her when she looks like that. All flushed and excited and full of vitality for life, the kind that got burned out of me so long ago, it's a distant memory.

I'm not good for you. Good is not what I need. What I need is you.

She's so goddamn sexy and perfect and tastes like mine.

If I were twenty years younger, she'd have been the girl of my fucking dreams. Hell, she is right now.

He's your ex-boyfriend's father --and your boss-- I remind myself for the hundredth time.

I'm not looking their way, cowboy. There's only one man I'm interested in, and he's one I can't have. So, what does that make me... a pathetic slut, or a masochist?

There is no having to do anything, I’ve been craving this, Layla. I’ll eat you for every meal. You are goddamn beautiful and the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted. So, let me take care of you until you’re shaking and soaking my face like a good girl.

Besides, I want you naked and in my bath when I get back… and I’m sure you’ll keep yourself busy reading one of your horny books.” There’s a spluttering noise that comes out of me, and I damn near fall off my stool. Absolutely no way did this man just say those words. But Colt’s hazel eyes glow with boyish mischief. “Oh, don’t think I don’t know what you’ve got on that innocent-looking little device of yours.” “What do you know about the types of books I read?” I’m incredulous, but have absolutely no right to be. He’s correct. My Kindle is brimming with the most deliciously smutty books imaginable. “Oh, I’m sorry… reading serious literature over there every night, are you, angel?

Find that sweet spot, angel. Take your aim and hit that target. You can be anything you want. I have no doubt you’ll succeed. That good heart of yours is tougher than you think. If you can survive an old bastard like me, you can reach the stars and have them falling at your feet, too.

You touch a man’s hat, you’re either planning to fight them or fuck them. So, which do you want with me, cowboy?

I guess I need to wear my cap backward more often if this is how wet your sweet little cunt gets.