Strong, Silent Type (Rough Riders 6.5)
Page 19
“Quinn! You can’t drive like this.”
“Like what? Bein’ horny as hell with a hot woman bouncin’ on my pole as we hit every damn pothole on Main Street?” He grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
She whapped him on the chest before returning to the passenger side.
He wiggled his hat back on his head and threw the gearshift in reverse.
When they hit the outskirts of town, Libby casually asked, “So, since you didn’t get to fulfill your fantasy earlier today, do you have any others you wanna share with me?”
Quinn shot her a sideways glance. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
“I’ve got no problem sharing a fantasy, but you go first.”
“Okay.” He shifted in the seat. “I wanna f**k you while you’re wearin’ nuthin’ but them tight, black suede chaps with the long fringe runnin’ down the sides.”
“That’s it?”
“I’m a simple man. Your turn.”
Libby wondered how he’d react to her fantasy. Would he get angry? Go along with it? Think it was weird? Or stupid?
“Lib?” he prompted. “No more secrets, remember?”
She blurted, “Let’s pretend we’re strangers. You picked me up in a bar after we slow danced and shared a couple of smokin’ kisses. You’re taking me back to your place to have your wicked way with me.”
“You wanna do this now? Tonight?”
“Yeah. And when we get home—I mean there—I wanna spend the night in the horse trailer.”
“Deal. But if we were strangers and so hot to have each other, I bet you’d be sittin’ closer to me.”
Relieved at his willingness to play along, she slid next to him. She flipped the radio on low and Dwight Yoakam crooned a mournful song about love gone wrong. Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder and lazily rubbed her bicep.
Libby stroked the corded muscle of his thigh beneath his soft sweatpants. With every sweeping pass her fingers drifted higher, lingered longer. She’d forgotten how much she loved touching him and hearing the soft catch of his breath whenever she did something he liked.
She glanced at him. Quinn’s knuckles on the steering wheel shone white in the dashboard lights.
Talk about tense. What could she do to relax him?
A naughty idea popped up. Smiling, she hid her face in his neck. “Mmm. You smell good.”
His answer was a low groan.
Encouraged, Libby continued nuzzling his throat, letting her fingers wander until they reached the swelling between his thighs. She traced the length of his erection. The only barrier between his c**k and her hand was a thin piece of fleece.
Dragging openmouthed kisses to his ear, she whispered, “Help me slide these down so I can touch you bare.”
Immediately, Quinn gripped the back of the seat with his right hand and lifted his hips.
Libby hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled the sweatpants down to his knees. She curled her hand around the girth of his c**k and squeezed.
He hissed. Loudly.
Hmmm. What other noises could she elicit from her normally silent cowboy?
Still kissing his neck, she played with his cock. Feathering touches from tip to root, circling her thumb through the pre-come to tease the sweet spot below the head.
After giving his jawline one last nip, she lowered her face into his lap and replaced her hand with her mouth.
“Sweet Jesus, woman, what are you doin’?”
Libby scooted back slightly for a better angle and cranked her head around. “If you don’t know I must be doing it wrong. You want me to stop?”
“No!”
“Thought you might say that.”
“It’s just, I never thought you’d…” He looked down at her. “You’re a wild one, eh?”
“Yep.” When Quinn kept staring at her, she reminded him, “Eyes on the road, buddy.”
“Ah, shit. Sorry.”
She worked him over. Licking the head with little whips of her tongue, then pulling him into her mouth an inch at a time until her lips were against the base. She breathed through her nose, filling her lungs with the musky scent that was uniquely Quinn. Then Libby released all that male hardness, loving the sleek feel of his tight skin moving backward across her tongue.
A muttering curse sounded above her, but she paid no attention. She kept the deep-throating rhythm, letting her saliva coat the shaft. The darkness, the heat rolling from his body, the constant wet glide of her mouth on his rock-hard cock, soaked her panties to the point she knew Quinn smelled her arousal.
She loved this. His sense of surprise. The confidence she could please him. But mostly she reveled in the knowledge that passion this intense still existed between them.
Quinn’s hand had somehow landed on her head. His hips were bumping up, a signal he was close to blowing.
Libby switched to shallow strokes. Lightly holding his dick at the root, her hand moved up to meet her mouth moving down. She applied more suction to the head.
“Goddamn, that feels so f**kin’ good.”
She hummed around his c**k as her head bobbed faster.
“Oh hell yeah, baby, almost there.”
Sexual power raced through her. Libby wanted his climax. She wanted to taste it, to bathe in it, to glory in it, because goddammit, she’d earned it.
“Uh. Fuck. There it is.” Quinn groaned, his fingers increasing the grip on her hair.
His c**k throbbed against her tongue with each hot spurt. She swallowed, keeping her lips wrapped tightly around the head until the very last pulse.
He sighed. His body went slack against the seat. After a bit, he said, “That was amazin’. ’Cept, I almost wrecked the truck. Twice.”
Flush with success of pleasing her man, she gave his c**k one last kiss and lifted her head. She gazed out the window and noticed they were about a mile from the turnoff home.
Quinn reached for her hand. He opened his mouth. Snapped it shut. Apparently he was too stunned to talk.
Good. That was the type of silence she preferred from him.
They parked alongside the horse trailer. In the darkened truck, Quinn stayed still. Libby wanted to crawl out of her skin at the renewed tension.
“I want you like crazy.”
A shiver raced up her spine at his husky tone.
“But I want you on my terms. So if you get outta this truck and follow me into that trailer, we’re gonna do things my way. Everything. No arguin’. If you wanna back out, say so now.”
Practical Libby would demand to know the parameters. But tonight, she wasn’t Libby. She was a temptress who’d given a stranger a blowjob in his pickup. Plus, she was damn curious to know what Quinn meant by his “terms”.