Strong, Silent Type (5 page)

“Please.”

“What?” Quinn was in a fog of lust. His need to prove he could still satisfy his mate became a single-minded pursuit.

At her whispered plea, “Faster,” Quinn lost it. Pumping his fingers inside her, he growled in her ear,

“I wanna fuck you like this, darlin’ wife. Face down on the dining room table, no foreplay, just hard, fast fucking. Poundin’ into this pussy until you scream.”

“Yes. God.
Yes
.”

“Give it to me, Libby. Come around my fingers. Prove to me you love the way only
I
can make you come.”

Libby gasped.

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Lorelei James

“Ssh. When we’re home you can cause a ruckus, but this time be quiet.” He whispered, “And don’t that just make our naughty little secret so much raunchier, knowin’ you gotta be still when your whole body is buckin’ for release?”

“Quinn…I’m gonna—”

“Come. Now.”

Another gasp escaped Libby’s sweet mouth as her orgasm exploded. Quinn felt it everywhere, a rhythmic pulling around his fingers, a steady throbbing where her clit pressed into his hand, even the skin on her back pulsed the same cadence. He stared greedily as her climax inundated her.

On a final sigh, Libby slumped to the table.

Quinn removed his hand from between her thighs and loomed over her. “Look at me.”

She blinked at him.

“I love the way you taste.” He placed his fingers inside his mouth and sucked noisily. Then he traced her lips with his wet fingers. “Taste yourself.”

Heat flashed in Libby’s eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, she parted her lips, sucking his fingers to the knuckles. Quinn growled at feeling her hot little tongue swirling around the rough skin. He withdrew his fingers, flipped her over, and took her mouth savagely.

The kiss was out of control from the start. After several blissful minutes, Quinn managed to find his sanity before they fucked right there in AJ’s massage studio. He slipped his lips free from hers and placed them against her ear. “Get dressed.”

“But—”

“We’re done here, Libby. Get dressed. Fast.” He drew in a deep breath. “Please.”

In such close proximity, he felt—rather than saw—her nod. Unable to control his need for her or his raging hard-on, he presented his back to her, trying like hell to ignore the sexy sounds of her uneven breathing and the rustle of her clothing.

Libby cleared her throat. “I’m ready.”

He clasped her hand and ushered her outside without another word.

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The wind whistled, blowing leaves and debris around their feet. Although Libby’s mind was hazed with pleasure, she hated that Quinn was dragging her off like a disobedient child.

She dug her bootheels into the sidewalk and jerked them to a stop.

Quinn whirled around.

Everything feminine inside her cheered at his scorching look. His gorgeous blue eyes were nearly black, not from rage, but from passion, which increased her determination to set things straight before they took another step—literally or figuratively.

Testily, he said, “What?”

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Why did you haul me out of there so damn fast?”

“Guess.”

Yippee, he was back to one-word answers. “Were you embarrassed about what just happened?”

“No. Were you?”

“No. It was hot as hell.” Libby’s gaze dropped to the front of Quinn’s sweats. Bingo. Damn impressive tent. She smirked. “Are we leaving because you have a hard-on?”

“Yep.”

“That’s all?”

“Jesus, Libby, will you get in the goddamn truck so we can talk about this at home?”

“Nope.”

Quinn stared at her as if she’d morphed into a three-eyed, green-tentacled alien life form.

“So it’s okay for
you
to get
me
off in public, but I can’t return the favor?”

“What?”

Libby grabbed him by the shirtsleeve and towed him around the corner of the building. Luckily, this side of the two-story brick structure faced an empty lot. She pressed her back against the sandstone bricks and tugged him. Well, she tried to tug him, but the solidly built man wouldn’t budge.

“What are you doin’?”

“Seducing you. Fair’s fair, Quinn. I wanna get you off. Right here, right now.”

“Good Lord, woman, what’s gotten into you?”

Lorelei James

“You’ve gotten into me, remember whose fingers were in who?” Libby wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hoist me against this wall and rub your cock on me until you come.”

She could picture her husband mentally compiling a list of pros and cons. “We’re outside. Anyone could see us.”

“So?”

“Libby.”

“What? Can you blame me for wanting more of the wild man I met behind the curtain?” Libby rubbed her lips over the baby-smooth line of his jaw and he angled his head, allowing her better access to all the tasty spots. “You’ve held back with me, Quinn. Sometimes you’ve shown me a glimpse of that beast inside you. If we’re really going to try and make this work, no more secrets between us. No more politeness. No more PC behavior. No more hiding behind a mask.”

He squinted at her. “If I lower my mask, you’d better be prepared to lower yours too.”

“What do you mean?”

“That means I wanna see some of the shine worn off the perfect rancher’s wife halo you wear like a tiara. Hell, I’d love to
knock
that crown right off your pretty, proper little head.”

There was the opening she’d longed for. Masks off, gloves off, the real down and dirty side to each of them, squaring off with no rules. She said, “Deal.”

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 cock 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.”

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Strong Silent Type

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 cock 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.

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Lorelei James

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 nipples 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.

“You are beautiful. You’ve always been the most beautiful girl in the world to me. That hasn’t changed in fourteen years. The way I feel about you hasn’t changed. It never will.”

“Quinn—”

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Strong Silent Type

“That said…” He distractedly adjusted his cock. When he realized she’d been staring at his crotch, his palm repeatedly stroked the bulge between his legs. “Oh, little wifey mine. I’m likin’ this naughty side of you. I like it so much, in fact, that I’m gonna give you fair warnin’.”

“About what?”

Instead of answering, Quinn removed his hat. Stripped off his T-shirt. Toed off his shoes and socks.

But he left his sweatpants on.

“Fair warning about what?” she prompted.

“Fair warnin’ that after you run into the house, I’m gonna be hot on your heels. And when I catch you, I’m gonna fuck you right where you stand.”

Her heart thumped a whole lot faster.

“You wanted to let the cat outta the bag and here I am, more than ready to pounce.”

Oh God.

“So if I’m the cat, I guess that makes you—” his gaze swept over her impatiently, “—the mouse.”

Ah hell, she was so screwed.

And she loved every second of it.

Quinn showed his teeth in a ravenous smile. “Now’s your chance. Run little mouse, run.”

Libby opened the truck door just as Quinn lunged at her. Modesty forgotten, she raced up the walkway naked.

***

Three. Two. One.

Quinn leapt out of the truck.

He ignored the burn and sting of the concrete on his bare feet. His focus was on one thing.

Libby.

Finding her. Fucking her. Marking her. A possessive, red haze, more animal than man, fogged his neural pathways. Every pounding footstep echoed in his head as a mantra:
mine mine mine.

He tore up the porch steps and shouldered aside the front door. The kitchen zipped by in a blur. He sprinted past the dining room table into the front room.