25. Lyle
25
LYLE
" R elax, no one's around," I murmur, pulling Quinn onto my lap. The truck’s cab feels snug, cozy even, as the heater fights against the encroaching cold. I scoot the seat back, giving us more room. She looks around nervously.
"You sure? What if someone drives by?" Her voice wavers slightly, a mix of excitement and anxiety.
I chuckle, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at me instead of scanning the empty road. "Babe, it's like a ghost town out here. And trust me, these windows will be fogged up in no time."
She bites her lip, then finally nods. I take off her toboggan, freeing that cascade of auburn hair I can’t get enough of. My fingers thread through it as I pull her closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that feels like it could set the truck on fire.
Quinn shifts on my lap, her hips pressing against me in a way that sends shivers down my spine. I start to pull off her hoodie, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath. "You always this bold?" she teases between kisses.
"Only with you," I whisper back, grinning. "You bring out the best in me."
Her laugh is soft but genuine. "Oh really? Is that what we're calling this?"
I nip at her bottom lip playfully. "Definitely. Call it creative inspiration."
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t resist as I slide the hoodie over her head and toss it onto the passenger seat. Her hands find their way under my shirt, cold fingers making me jump.
"Hey now," I protest lightly, "those hands are freezing!"
"Then warm them up," she shoots back, a smirk playing on her lips.
I capture her mouth again, more insistently this time.
“Too many damn layers,” I mutter, trying to get my hands under Quinn’s long sleeve shirt without much success. “This is like trying to unwrap a present with mittens on.”
She laughs, the sound like music to my ears. “Well, maybe I can help with that.” She pulls back just enough to yank her shirt over her head, revealing a black lace bra that makes my pulse quicken.
“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” I murmur, my hands immediately finding her breasts. They’re warm and soft under the lace, and I can’t resist taking her bra off too. It lands somewhere in the darkened truck cab as I start kissing and nipping at her skin.
Her breath hitches as I move lower, my lips tracing a path down her chest. “Your turn,” she says, her voice husky.
She tugs at my jacket, practically wrestling it off me before helping with my shirt. Her fingers trace the lines of my tattoos, each touch sending sparks through me.
“I always wondered what these felt like,” she murmurs, kissing along my chest.
I shiver at the sensation of her lips on my skin. “They’re all yours to explore.”
She grins up at me, that mischievous glint in her eyes making me want her even more. Her fingers play over the inked patterns on my arms and chest, each touch like fire against my skin.
“Any favorite?” she asks between kisses.
“The one you’re touching right now,” I reply, grinning. “But it changes by the second.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop exploring.
“Lift up a bit,” I whisper, guiding her hips. Quinn kicks off her boots, and I help her out of those skin-tight leggings. She’s left in a tiny black thong, tied at the sides, and it’s driving me wild.
“You’re killing me here,” I murmur, fingers deftly untying the sides of her thong. It falls away, leaving her bare and beautiful in the dim light of the truck cab.
Quinn’s breath catches as she lifts herself up, giving me just enough room to slide my pants and boxers down. My dick springs free, landing against my stomach.
Her eyes widen, a mix of surprise and something like terror flashing across her face. “Uh... wow.”
I cup her cheek, forcing her to look into my eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”
She nods, taking a deep breath. “Alright.”
“Good girl,” I say softly. “Reach over to the glove compartment. There should be a condom in there.”
She stretches across me, fumbling with the latch on the glove compartment. Her bare skin brushes against mine, making my pulse race even faster. She finds the condom and sits back up.
“Now put it on me,” I instruct gently.
Her hands tremble slightly as she opens the packet. She looks at me for reassurance.
“You got this,” I encouraged with a soft smile.
Quinn rolls the condom over my length with surprising skill for someone who seemed nervous moments ago. Her touch is tentative but thorough, sending jolts of pleasure through me.
“Perfect,” I say once she’s done. “Now come here.”
She straddles me again, positioning herself above me. Our eyes lock, and I can see both determination and vulnerability in hers.
“I’m ready,” she whispers.
I guide her down slowly, feeling her warmth envelop me inch by inch. “You feel fucking amazing,” I groan.
Her hands grip my shoulders as she adjusts to the sensation. “Fuck Lyle, so do you,” she replies breathlessly.
I grip Quinn’s hips, feeling her warmth and softness against my hands. “What’s that song? ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy’? Show me how it’s done, baby.”
She laughs, the sound breathless and full of desire. “Is that what you want, cowboy?”
“Hell yes,” I murmured, guiding her down onto me. She starts to move, her rhythm tentative at first but quickly growing more confident.
“Like this?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.
“Exactly like that,” I groan, lifting my hips to meet her thrust for thrust. Each movement sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I can tell she feels it too.
Her tits bounce with every thrust, and I can’t help myself. I lean forward, capturing one of her nipples in my mouth. She gasps, her hands tightening on my shoulders as I suck and tease with my tongue.
“Lyle,” she breathes, her voice a mix of pleasure and need.
I switch to the other nipple, giving it the same attention while my hands roam over her back and hips. Her movements become more frantic, each thrust harder and faster than the last.
“Fuck,” I mutter against her skin. “You’re incredible.”
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. “Keep going Quinn Dupree. Don’t stop.”
She nods, determination flashing in her hazel eyes as she rides me harder. Our bodies move in perfect sync, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I tell her, my voice rough with need.
Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red at my words. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
I grin up at her, loving the way she banters even in moments like this. “Nice one Cowboy Cassanova.”
She laughs again, but it turns into a moan as I lift my hips higher, meeting her with more force. The truck cab fills with the sounds of our pleasure – gasps, moans, the creak of the seat beneath us.
“I’m close,” she whispers, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Me too,” I groan. “Don’t hold back.”
She doesn’t need any more encouragement. Her movements become desperate, each thrust pushing us both closer to release.
“Lyle!” she cries out as she comes undone around me.
The sensation sends me over the edge too. I bury myself deep inside her one last time, groaning her name as I find my release.
We collapse against each other, both of us breathing hard and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Quinn rests her forehead against mine, our breaths mingling in the cool air of the truck cab.
“That,” she says between breaths, “was amazing.”
“Yeah,” I agree with a lazy smile. “Who needs a heater when you're on top of me?"
I lean back against the seat, savoring the moment, feeling Quinn's warmth still lingering against me. But reality quickly catches up, and I realize we can’t stay here forever.
"Alright, superstar," I say, gently nudging her off my lap. "We better get dressed before someone comes looking for us."
Quinn giggles and rolls off me, reaching for her discarded thong. "You think anyone's actually gonna come out here in this weather?"
"Probably not," I admit, pulling my pants back on with some difficulty. "But let's not take any chances. We don't need another headline."
She grins, pulling on her leggings. "Just South of Mason's drummer caught with pants down—literally."
I laugh, shaking my head. "And the opening act caught red-handed. Sounds like a TMZ special."
We fumble around the truck cab, grabbing clothes and getting dressed in record time. It's hot and stuffy in here now, our combined body heat making it feel like a sauna. I don’t bother putting my shirt back on; just throw my jacket over my bare chest.
Quinn slips into her hoodie but leaves it unzipped. Her hair’s a mess, but it looks damn good on her. “Ready?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say, reaching over to wipe a smudge of lipstick from her cheek. “You look perfect.”
She snorts but doesn’t protest as we tumble out of the truck and into the cold night air. The sudden chill is a shock after the heat inside.
“Damn,” Quinn mutters, hugging herself for warmth.
“Come here,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as we start walking back to the tour bus.
The snow crunches under our boots as we make our way down the quiet road. “Think anyone noticed we were gone?” she asks.
“Nah,” I reply with a grin. “They’re probably too busy getting wasted.”
We reach the tour bus just as a gust of wind whips through the parking lot, sending shivers down our spines.
“Let’s get inside before we freeze our asses off,” I say, pulling open the door.
Quinn steps up first, glancing back at me with a playful smile. “After you.”
I follow her inside, immediately hit by the warmth and familiar smell of the bus—leather seats, cologne, and a hint of beer from last night’s party.
“Home sweet home,” Quinn says sarcastically.
“Better than that truck cab,” I joke back.
She flops onto one of the couches while I grab us both some water bottles from the mini-fridge.
“To surviving another day on tour,” I say, handing her one.
“To surviving each other,” she counters with a grin before taking a sip.
We settle in comfortably on the couch, close but not quite touching—content in this shared silence after everything that just happened.
“Thanks for tonight,” she says softly after a moment.
I smile at her sincerity. “Anytime.”
And with that simple exchange, everything feels right again—at least for now.