Strong, Silent Type (Rough Riders 6.5)

Quinn needed to get inside her. Now now now pounded in cadence with the blood throbbing in his cock.

Libby twisted her hand in his T-shirt, stopping him. “This gone. I wanna feel your skin on mine.”

Yank. Off it went. He latched onto her hips and pulled until her legs hung off the table. He jerked his sweatpants to the tops of his boots and his c**k went sproing like it was spring-loaded. He circled the opening to her pu**y once and plunged inside to the root.

She hissed. Her upper body bowed up and she slid up half a foot from the force of his thrusts.

He scooted her back down. “Grab onto the edge. Hands above your head. Like that. Oh hell, yeah, exactly like that.”

“You’re watching my tits bounce, aren’t you?”

Quinn laughed and drove into her hard. “Uh-huh. Goddamn that’s sexy.”

“Just as long as you aren’t so busy watching you forget what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“And what is that, darlin’ wife?”

“Fucking me until I scream.”

The noise leaving his throat was half-grunt, half-snarl and all possessive male. He obliged her with thrusts that rocked the table and his legs quaked from the strain.

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

He gave her everything he had. A heart-thumping, sweat-inducing, hip-pounding, teeth-grinding, primal mating. As he anchored her hips, his avid gaze moved from the steady bounce of her br**sts to where they were joined. It was hot as sin to see the wet proof of her excitement coating his dick as he pulled out, then feeling the tight clasp as he slammed home. Again and again and again. Every thrust seemed to bring him deeper into her.

When he noticed Libby biting her lip, he leaned over her. “You okay? Too much?”

“No.” She arched into him. “Your chest hair on my ni**les drives me crazy. And God, you’re hitting the exact spot pressed against me like that.”

“Like this?”

“Yes.”

“Harder?”

“No.”

“Faster?”

“Yeah.”

Quinn clasped their hands together so they were matched palm to palm. “Fly apart for me.” He added a little grind at the end of his upstroke and she gasped.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh, more— yes! ”

His hips began to piston, each stroke brought forth more sweat and more labored breaths and a more desperate race to the finish. When Libby squeezed his hands and cried out, Quinn felt that deep, rhythmic pulsing of her body sucking at his c**k like a separate mouth.

Closing his eyes, he let himself fall into the moment. As his c**k emptied, he was reminded how perfect it felt being with Libby, naked in body and soul. Quinn buried his face in her neck and clutched her tightly, silently swearing to never let her get so far out of his reach again. “God, I love you. Don’t ever leave me…I can’t…”

“Ssh. I know. It’s okay. I’m here. We’re both here.”

After they’d leveled their breathing and their heart rates returned to normal, she shuddered beneath him. He raised his head to peer into her eyes. “Cold?”

“With two hundred pounds of hot rancher on top of me? Hardly.”

“Am I too heavy?”

Libby shook her head.

He kissed each nipple and pushed upright. Studying her face for signs of pain, he slowly pulled out.

“Sore?”

“No. And even if I was, I wouldn’t mind. Because you just fulfilled one of my fantasies.”

“Really? On the kitchen table?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Well, hot damn.” After Quinn tugged his sweatpants in place, he helped her sit up and noticed her eyes darted to the pile of dishes beneath the rumpled tablecloth. “Sorry I ruined supper.”

“Don’t be. Being with you, having you look at me like that…”

“Like what?”

“Like you used to. Like I was everything.”

Quinn rested his forehead to hers. “You are everything to me. You always have been. I’m sorry it got to the point where you ever doubted that.”

“Me too.”

The moment, while brief, seemed to reinforce a connection between them Quinn hadn’t realized was broken.

Libby’s stomach rumbled.

“Since I wrecked supper, and you’re clearly starving, can I take you out?”

“Good Lord, I’m a mess. By the time I get myself cleaned up, every place within thirty miles will be closed.”

“You do look kinda mussed. But it’s a well-fucked, well-kissed kinda mussed.”

“Quinn McKay!”

He loved that indignant tone, mostly because it was all for show. “Tell you what. Let’s go to the Tasty Treat Drive-in. We don’t have to get out. I can sneak a couple kisses between feeding you curly fries. Like we used to.” He nibbled on her lips. “And we might finally christen the damn truck after six years.”

Libby leaned back. “We’ve had sex in your truck.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Yes, we have.”

“When?”

She appeared to be thinking. “Shoot. I thought after some big McKay bash you and I…” Libby looked him expectantly.

“We did. But that was my old red Dodge years ago, not this one.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Just remembering the first time we had sex in your pickup.”

He cringed. “I’m surprised you ever had sex with me again.”

“It wasn’t that horrible.”

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t romantic. Woulda been better if we’d waited and done it in my bed rather than on a pickup bench seat in the middle of a damn pasture. You deserved better.”

“I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with you.” A wistful look crossed her face. “Sometimes I think we’ve come so far…and then I look at you and still feel like that unsure sixteen-year-old girl.”

That jarred him. “Unsure about me?”

“No, unsure on why you picked me.”

“Why?”

“The McKay boys’ reputation for preferring wild girls. I’ve never been wild.”

“I ain’t ever been like my cousins when it comes to skirt chasin’. Didn’t interest me.” He allowed a small grin. “On the other hand, I’m likin’ that you’re finally gettin’ wild with me.”

“But, you could’ve had any girl.”

“Don’t matter. I didn’t want any other girl besides you, Libby. Then or now.”