Trucker Wife's Midnight Stalker - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Vincent finally upgraded to a semi-truck—his dream rig. And just like that, I became his co-driver wife.
Late that night, as his thunderous snores filled the cab, I was pressed against the passenger door, wide awake. Through the windshield, my anxious gaze lingered on his sleeping form.
This thing is a monster.
I swallowed hard. "Honey, this truck is huge. But now you'll have even less time for me."
I knew exactly how much it cost. The loan meant longer hauls, harder work—more nights alone.
My name's Bianca Valentine. Vincent and I met in college, married right after graduation.
And ever since our first time? I was hooked. Craving him more every damn day.
But then he became a long-haul trucker. His company assigned him a co-driver—some stranger—and banned me from riding along. Our time together shrank to stolen moments.
Every time he came home, I'd cling to him, desperate. But exhaustion always won. He could never keep up with me anymore.
And now? Another loan. More debt. More distance.
Would I just become some forgotten housewife?
The thought twisted inside me, sharp and bitter.
Suddenly, Vincent stepped close, his warm breath tickling my ear.
"Look at you, all pouty." He grinned. "Afraid you'll miss me too much?" His fingers brushed my waist. "Guess what? You're coming with me this time—my co-driver wife. Surprise."
My body lit up like a live wire.
Vincent pulled me against him, his voice rough. "You're riding with me for this delivery."
His gaze burned as he chuckled low.
"See how big this rig is? Like a damn bedroom on wheels."
His teeth grazed my earlobe. "And those windows? Imagine doing it with the whole world watching. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"
Before I could answer, he yanked me into the cab.
The engine roared to life. "Let's roll. Time to pick up the cargo."
We loaded up locally and hit the interstate.
Maybe it was the new truck. Maybe it was how long it'd been. But Vincent couldn't keep his hands to himself. His fingers traced dangerous paths, leaving me squirming in my seat.
By dusk, we pulled into a rest stop, parking between two other semis.
Vincent didn't even bother with the curtains.
Anticipation surged—until I saw movement in the truck beside us.
The rest area lights blazed bright. Anyone could see inside.
I shoved at his chest. "Vincent, stop! There's someone—"
"Heh. That's what makes it exciting, baby."
He was too far gone to care.
And soon… so was I.
Just as pleasure crested, I caught sight of him—a young guy in the next cab. Shirtless. Muscular. Watching us with dark, hungry eyes.
His gaze locked onto mine, syncing with Vincent's rhythm until my skin prickled.
Shame melted into something hotter. My moans grew louder.
Too soon, Vincent collapsed beside me. The stranger was gone.
Vincent smirked, satisfied.
I bit back frustration. He'd finished before I'd even peaked.
As soon as I caught my breath, I hissed, "Let's go. Now."
Being seen once was bad enough. A second encounter? No way.
Vincent chuckled but turned the key. The engine growled back to life.