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Why did she look so guilty? “Can I see?”
“What time is it?” Libby asked, avoiding his question.
“Almost eight. Why?”
She unplugged the printer cable and powered down her laptop. “I thought it’d be fun to play cards.”
“I’d be up for a game of strip poker.” Quinn waggled his eyebrows.
“I was thinking a game of hearts and you were thinking with a hard-on.”
“I can’t help it. All the smokin’ hot sex yesterday, in the shower this mornin’, and my mind is runnin’
on one track.”
“Hold that thought. And get your money out. After I’ve finished packing I’m gonna whip your butt in poker.”
Quinn froze. “Finished packing for what?”
“I’m going to Cheyenne tomorrow for the state library conference, remember?”
“First I’ve heard of it.”
“I thought I’d told you.” She shrugged. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”
“How long you gonna be gone?”
“All week. There’s two days of training and then the actual conference. I’ll be back Friday afternoon.”
He flipped the station to an outdoor hunting channel and stared at the screen without seeing it.
“Maybe I oughta go with you.”
Libby kissed his forehead. “Don’t scowl, it’ll give you wrinkles. Besides, Cheyenne wouldn’t be fun for you, stuck in the hotel all day.”
“But the nights of hot motel sex would make up for it.”
“I’m assigned a roommate.”
Quinn hated when she went to conferences. She was too damn busy during the day to call him and too tired at night. He was lucky if they talked one time.
“Speaking of… I have to leave at the crack of dawn, so I’d better get going.” She flounced out of the room.
That sucked. He dropped his head back on the couch and gazed at the ceiling. Had Libby deliberately misled him?
You two weren’t exactly talking before last Friday.
True, but they’d done a helluva lot of talking since then. Then he remembered her insistence they not make promises for the future beyond the weekend, because she might need more time to think it over.
Evidently, Libby always intended on taking that time, in Cheyenne—whether he liked it or not.
Quinn didn’t like it one little bit.
But he’d damn sure give her something to remember him by before she left. He managed to cool his heels for ten minutes before he went upstairs.
The suitcase was open on the floor. The suit bag was spread out across the bed. Both were almost full.
Quinn leaned against the doorjamb and watched Libby scurrying around.
She finally noticed him. “Why are you skulking in the doorway?”
“Can’t a man appreciate his wife?”
“Sweet-talker.”
“I’m tryin’. How much packing you got left?”
“Almost done. Just have to pick shoes, but I’m tempted to take one pair.”
“Need help?” He ambled toward the closet.
“Nah. I’m good.”
Libby paid no attention to him as she mumbled and pawed through her dresser drawers.
Her side of the closet contained fewer clothes. It was easy to find what he wanted. Quinn unhooked the heavy material from the metal hanger. After she’d zipped up the suit bag and set it next to the suitcase on the floor, he tossed the pair of black suede fringed chaps on the bed.
She slowly turned around with an odd look in her eyes. “Umm. I think those are inappropriate for a librarian’s conference, don’t you?”
“Good thing you ain’t wearin’ ’em for nobody but me.”
“Quinn—”
He loomed over her in a half a heartbeat. “Put them on. No arguin’. No panties. No shirt. No bra. No socks. No boots. Just the chaps. I’ll be back in five minutes. You’d better be undressed and ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready for whatever I tell you to do.”
Libby blinked at him. A few seconds passed and she nodded.
Quinn retreated to the bathroom. Seemed an eternity before he trekked back down the hallway to their bedroom.
She was sitting on the bed and jumped up the instant she saw him. “Was I supposed to be standing?”
“You’re fine.” Quinn shut and locked the door. He closed the blinds. Turned off the overhead light and flipped on the bedside lamp. Rolled back the quilt, exposing the sheets. Then he faced her. Crowded her, really. “Hands by your sides.”
She dropped the arms she’d crossed over her chest.
“Lord almighty, lookit you.” And what an eyeful Quinn got. His wife made his pulse race and his c**k hard. “Turn and let me see the view from the back.”
It appeared Libby might argue, but she swiveled her hips, tossed her head and twirled around.
“Holy mother. That’s the sexiest damn sight I’ve ever seen.” The leather hugged her legs. The cut of the chaps highlighted her rounded, naked ass. The thick strap spanned the curve of her lower back and brought to mind bondage games he’d salivated over in p**n flicks, but hadn’t thought he’d ever get the chance to try. He’d like to tie her up. Bind her hands in all sorts of tempting ways—above her head, behind her back, in front where the ropes would rub against her—
“Quinn?”
His gaze whipped to hers. Another time he’d remind her of his expertise with ropes. A small smile crept up. “Lemme see you shakin’ that badonkadonk.”
“What?”
“I wanna see your ass swingin’ and the fringe flappin’.”
“But—”
“Do it, Lib. Make me wild to get my hands and mouth all over you.”
“For being a man of few words you sure do use them well.”
“I’m a new man, darlin’ wife.”
At first, her hands were clutched into fists by her side, but eventually she hitched her shoulders back and raised her arms. Cupping each elbow, her arms created a square above her head. Libby twitched her hips side-to-side, adding a quick snap at the end, causing the fringe to slap against the leather and her skin.
Quinn groaned at the erotic swish-swish-snap sound. “Keep goin’. I’m gettin’ all kinds of worked up.”
Libby widened her stance, performing a bump-and-grind routine that’d cause a stripper envy. She rolled her pelvis as she shimmied forward and peeped at him upside down from between her legs. She cooed, “How’m I doing, cowboy?”
