Strong, Silent Type (Rough Riders 6.5)

Quinn’s eyes took on a predatory look. “Make doubly sure you mean what you’re sayin’, ’cause once I let that cat outta the bag, it ain’t ever goin’ back in. I’ve got some dark edges I’ve never explored, Libby.

Be one-hundred-percent sure you can handle ’em.”

For a split second, Libby’s determination wavered, seeing the steely glint of danger in her husband’s eyes. But she’d loved him long enough to know he wouldn’t physically hurt her. In fact, he’d probably hidden those rough edges to protect her. Silly man.

Meeting his gaze dead on, she gave him an unequivocal, “Yes, I’m sure. Now show me, dammit.”

His answering snarl was decidedly feral. Quinn clamped his mouth to hers as he clapped his hands on her ass and boosted her against the building.

Libby circled her legs around his hips as he lined his c**k to the top of her cleft, rocking his pelvis, so the length, from root to tip, rubbed perfectly on her pubic bone. He groaned in her mouth and kissed her harder.

Yes. This was what she’d wanted. His uninhibited response. A chance to crack the gentlemanly cowboy mantle that weighted him down like a yoke.

His every grinding stroke hit her clitoris. Her sex swelled and wept and gloried in the friction.

Quinn ripped his mouth free and nestled his cheek beside hers. “Been so long. God, Libby. I’m already there.” His rhythm never faltered, even through his short and choppy breaths. “Lift your shirt. Pull my sweats down so I can come on your belly.”

Those gruff words alone would’ve been enough to get her hot again, but she was already past the point of no return. Libby reached between them. The head of his c**k poked up past the waistband of his sweatpants. He’d gone commando. Handy. She briefly touched the sleek maleness before aligning the weeping tip above her belly button. “Do it.”

The thrusts were hard and fast. Quinn’s head snapped back with enough force his hat fell to the dirt.

Libby shamelessly watched pleasure contort her husband’s face as he came with a low moan. His pelvis kept pumping until warmth spurted across her stomach. With the constant abrasion to her clit, another quick orgasm erupted that left her gasping and selfishly wanting more.

Quinn stilled and slowly opened his eyes.

Rather than break the moment, Libby swirled her fingertips through the come dripping down her belly. She brought the slickly coated fingers to her mouth, licking at the salty offering. “Mmm.”

His powerful gaze never wavered. Not even when she traced the seam of his lips with her wet fingers and demanded, “Taste.”

Without hesitation Quinn drew her fingers deeply into his mouth and sucked.

Her sex clenched. Her blood seemed to sizzle and pop beneath her skin. Who was this wild man? She managed a raspy, “Quinn.”

“I know, darlin’ wife. Home. Now.” He gently deposited her on the ground. Hat on, their clothes somewhat back in order, he guided her to the truck.

On the road home, Quinn reached for her hand, but didn’t urge her to sit next to him. Nor did he speak, which caused a heightened sense of sexual awareness in the confines of the silent cab. Her stomach flipped whenever the coarse pad of Quinn’s thumb stroked the pulse point on the inside of her wrist.

After he’d parked in front of the house, Quinn turned off the engine, but didn’t attempt to get out of the pickup. He lounged against the door. Not in a relaxed manner, but tensed, like a coiled snake about to strike.

“What?”

His very hungry, very male gaze executed a methodical sweep of her body, from the tip of her nose to the toes of her boots. “Strip.”

Not the response she’d expected. “Right here? In the truck?”

“Yep.”

“But—”

“Huh-uh. Here’s that darker edge, Libby. I ain’t foolin’ around when I say take off your damn clothes.

Now.”

“In a striptease?”

“If you like. I don’t care just as long as you get nekkid. Fast.”

The demand was so unlike Quinn.

Isn’t this what you wanted? To witness the dark side of your lover you suspected he kept hidden from you?

Absolutely.

Libby tentatively unbuttoned her blouse. Once she’d taken it off, she looked to him for further instruction.

“All of it. Bra, jeans, thong.” He grinned. “Have I mentioned how much I love seein’ nuthin’ marring that sweet ass except a single string? Them bright pink ones are my favorite.”

She swallowed hard. She’d assumed he hated the changes she’d made in the last year, since he hadn’t said a word, good, bad or otherwise. Seemed she’d been mistaken.

What else had she been mistaken about when it came to her husband?

“Libby?”

“Fine. I’m doing it.” First, she yanked at her boots. She’d been in such a hurry to leave the massage studio she’d pulled her boots on over her jeans. After peeling off her socks, Libby glanced over at him.

“Bra next. I wanna see your tits bouncin’ and swayin’ as you’re wigglin’ outta them skin-tight jeans.”

Her face flamed at the mental picture he’d painted. “Quinn!”

“Don’t act so surprised. You gotta remember how much I love your tits.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Or am I gonna have to give you a very intensive refresher course? ’Cause I am so all over that.”

Good Lord. She couldn’t believe how hot his dirty talk and highhanded behavior made her. Her thong was soaked. She rubbed her thighs together as she sought the bra clasp in the middle of her back. Libby slipped the satin straps down her biceps. Once her arms were freed, she playfully flung the lacy bra in Quinn’s face.

“God, I forgot how pretty your ni**les are.” Quinn licked his lips. “Get them britches off.”

Libby rested her shoulders on the door and wiggled her hips. As her fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, she hoped her cottage-cheese thighs wouldn’t jiggle as much as her boobs. She shimmied the denim and her underwear down her legs, past her knees and calves, kicking them to the floorboard.

Quinn didn’t utter a peep. Libby stayed motionless, red-faced, heart pounding, blood racing, perched naked as the day she was born, on the front seat of his truck, in broad daylight.

“Libby. Darlin’, look at me.”

She slowly elevated her chin. Quinn’s face glowed with pure male heat. And his eyes. Lord, his indigo eyes were filled with such love and need, that her soul nearly burst.