Hot Shots 1: Test Shot

by Cari Quinn

  “Is that your excuse?” She rubbed her fist between her breasts. “Sorry. Guess I’m on edge.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for.” He waited until she swung her wary gaze his way. “Nothing,” he repeated softly, willing her to understand how much he meant it.

  “You don’t realize what you’re saying.”

  “Yes, I do. Don’t punish yourself for things that aren’t wrong.” I’m the one who deserves to punish myself, not you. Never you. “Trust me when I say that however you’ve felt, whatever you’ve done, has been justified.”

  “It has?”

  He hated, absolutely abhorred, the tremble in her voice. “Yes.”

  “I looked at your phone.”

  He’d never had to fight so hard not to look away. “I know. The text was still on the screen when I grabbed it this morning.”

  Doing this was a big risk, but one he needed to take. If he didn’t make a move soon, he would lose Layla. That text she’d discovered had only underlined why he needed to stop deliberating and start acting. He wasn’t giving her what she needed any longer. That might change. He was doing everything in his power to make it change, including the avoidance therapy that had sent him—them—across the country. In the meantime, he wanted to give her a gift, one he suspected she’d love once she dropped her inhibitions.

  “Why did Tricia send you that text so late?” Her cheeks pinkened, making her freckles stand out in sharp relief. “I didn’t realize you were so close.”

  His throat constricted around the words he knew he should say. The truth. Every day he held it between them, the wedge grew. But even knowing that, even understanding that he was driving them further apart, he couldn’t tell her. She’d been his mirror for so long. To look in her eyes and admit what he still couldn’t acknowledge to himself… He couldn’t do it. Not while he still thought they had a shred of a chance to go back to the way things had been.

  “I’ve been close to the Kilmartins for years,” he said instead of what burned on his tongue.

  Her mouth pinched at the corners. “Apparently I never realized how close.”

  She’d never guessed a lot of things. Or at least he hoped she hadn’t guessed. “I haven’t been unfaithful to you,” he said, his tone harder than he’d intended. Probably the guilt talking. His definition of unfaithfulness wouldn’t match Layla’s; he knew that much. But he held fast to that thin wire of safety like a drowning man would grip a rope. If he let go, he’d lose more than her. He’d lose his lifelong vision of himself. “You can stop looking for evidence. It’s not there.”

  “I never said it was. And I wasn’t looking for proof you were cheating. I was searching for reassurance that you weren’t!”

  “You need to trust me.” Trust that I’m fighting for us with everything I am. “Just like I trust you.”

  She shrank back as if he’d slapped her. “Why wouldn’t you be able to trust me? Have I ever given you reason to think you weren’t my whole world?”

  “No. Never.” Even last night, he’d pushed her to admit what he wanted for his own ends. Now he’d make those ends benefit her, as well. “Are you attracted to Sawyer, baby?”

  Denial flared over her features. Then she pressed her quivering lips together and stared hard at her lap. “We hardly ever have sex,” she whispered. “What did you expect?”

  It was his turn to fight the urge to deny. They still made love, albeit sporadically. But going from practically every night to a few times a month was a huge drop-off. Pretty damn close to no sex. “I expect you to be honest,” he said, closing his eyes as the statement echoed in his ears.

  Hypocrite.

  “I don’t want to lose us.”

  “We’re not losing anything.” He forced his eyes open and laid his hand palm up on the table, waiting for her to place her hand in his. As soon as she did, he curled his fingers around hers. “But we may gain something. Maybe we need to…refresh things.”

  Maybe you need more than I can offer right now.

  “Why? Everything was so perfect. We were happy.” The jaggedness of her tone made him want to rip his hand away from hers and punch it through the wall. She was so right. They’d been happy. And if he’d occasionally wondered what he was missing, he’d had so much that it hadn’t seemed important.

  Until it was.

  “Weren’t we happy, Aidan?” Her big brown eyes pleaded with him.

  “Yes. We were. We’ll be happy again. This is just a transition. And you know what you have to do when you’re making a transition?”

  “Hang on like hell?”

  As usual, she made him smile even when he was sure he couldn’t. That was his Lala. She was a song hummed in quiet happiness, a little bit of joy in a world where there wasn’t much. “That too.”

  “What else do you do?”

  He cleared his throat and rubbed her knuckles. She had to know he’d protect her, didn’t she? To the best of his ability, he would keep their relationship safe, despite what it meant for him. “You open yourself up to possibilities. Try new things. See what fits you now.”

  “You fit me.” She wet her lips, her eyes unnaturally bright. “You always will.”

  “This isn’t about what we are, as much as what we can be. I want you to experience pleasure again. I want to be able to give it you, even if right now I can’t.”

  Her fingers stirred in his. “What does that even mean? Why can’t you give me pleasure? You did just fine last night. Is there—are you—”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me,” he soothed. “Not physically. I haven’t been coping that well with the stress of work and moving. Mentally I’m not in the place for anything but occasional sex right now. I’m sure it’s only temporary, but maybe we should try something new.”

  “Something new like what? Do you want to bring another woman in our bed? Is that it?”

  If only.

  When he didn’t reply right away, she yanked her hand out of his. He didn’t fight to hold her in place, because the restless energy pouring off her demanded movement. If she didn’t pace it off, she’d likely burst into tears.

  His dancing around the subject and talking in riddles wasn’t helping. Spelling out exactly what he meant was the only way to go.

  “No. Not another woman, Layla.” Her given name sounded strange. He so rarely used it. “I want to watch you have sex with another man.”

  Chapter Three

  Layla stopped moving and wrapped her arms around herself. The September night was humid, but in a finger snap, she’d gone ice-cold.

  “Just like that. You put that out there between us.”

  “I alluded to it last night.”

  “Alluding is one thing, stating it flat-out another. What am I supposed to say?”

  “Do you want to?”

  She pressed her hand against her face. This wasn’t happening. Her fiancé couldn’t be saying this as rationally as if they were discussing having Brussels sprouts or broccoli with dinner. “My parents have been married over thirty years. Both of my brothers are happily married. As are your parents and your older sister.”

  “We’re engaged, are we not?”

  Christ, that impervious tone of his really twisted her shorts sometimes. “And you think it still counts as a commitment if we violate it by screwing whomever strikes our interest?” He didn’t answer for so long that she ground her teeth together just to fill the silence in her head. “Goddammit, don’t just sit there and stew.”

  “I’m not stewing. I’m trying to figure out how exactly you expect me to discuss how I feel when you shut me down at every turn. I wish to hell I could be the saint you apparently want to marry. Newsflash.” He scraped his chair back from the table. “I’m not.”

  “I don’t want a saint. I want the Aidan you were before we moved here.” Annoyed, frustrated, scared beyond belief, she stabbed her fingers against her eyes to stave off her tears. “I want to rewind a few months. That’s all I want.”

  “Me too. God, you
don’t know how much I want that.”

  The fatigue she heard in his words caused her to turn to face him, as much as she wanted to run out of the room and keep going. But to where? Her parents weren’t a few miles away anymore. Her older brother Stuart wouldn’t be driving by in his Mustang on his way home from work to cop some of their dinner. Her high school best friends, Cindy and Donna, no longer lived on the opposite side of their subdivision.

  She’d given up living close to them to move here with the man who looked very much like the person she’d fallen head over heart in love with but might as well have been a stranger.

  “Let’s say I said yes. Then what? Where does it stop?” She gripped her throat. “When we break up and you move out?”

  His lips quirked, and for a quick, irrational moment, all she could do was swallow hard at his gorgeousness. That dark hair, clipped short except in front, falling into eyes that were a muddy cross between brown, green, and gold. His olive sweater made them more green, though she hadn’t noticed the shadows beneath them before. Why did he look so damn exhausted?

  God, was he hiding something big from her? Something way beyond sex?

  She crossed the room and knelt beside his chair. He turned toward her, his jaw tight with tension, as she lifted her hand to his cheek. “You can tell me anything. We’ll work through it. If you’re sick, if something’s happening, I want to be there for you. Nothing’s more important to me than you, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing.”

  He didn’t respond, not at first. Then he cupped his hand over hers on his face and smiled, his features softening. “I’m fine. Because of you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Me too.” When he laughed, she shook her head. “I mean—you know what I mean.”

  “Yes. I do. I also know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy and satisfied.” His extra emphasis on the last word in that sentence made her blush. “If you’re certain you don’t want to experiment, that’s fine. This is about you and your needs.”

  As her silence extended, he scooped his hand through her hair, loosening it from its perma-clip. She rarely left her hair down anymore. The feeling was so unusual she actually shivered from the sensation of the long waves falling around her shoulders.

  “You’re not as traditional as you think. Look at your job. Your family and friends couldn’t believe you’d taken the position at Hot Shots. Huge difference from working at a kids’ talent agency. But you didn’t hesitate to go for it.”

  “I hesitated a little. Then my curiosity won out. I didn’t know if I could do the job,” she said, arching her neck so that he would resume stroking her hair. She had an incredibly sensitive scalp, and it had been way too long since he’d touched her that way.

  He took the hint. “Are you kidding me? You’re great at it. You must’ve suspected you might be, or you wouldn’t have tried it, Ms. Perfectionist.”

  A laugh bubbled out of her despite the nerves still swarming in her stomach. “Our lives were changing so much. It felt right to do something wild. Wild for me, anyway. And besides, even if it hadn’t worked out, there are always other jobs.”

  Hearing herself, she sighed. Maybe she was making too big of a deal about this. She and Aidan had always skated on the edges of some sexual lines, and she’d enjoyed everything they’d ever tried. If he wanted to take things to the next level, maybe she should stop clinging to the way things used to be and give it a try. She trusted him, didn’t she? If he needed more from their sex life, at least right now, what did it hurt to see where things went?

  They were still going to get married. Still spend the rest of their lives together. Experimentation was fun, a way they could grow closer together as a couple. She had no reason to be afraid.

  “It’s just about the physical,” she said quietly.

  If Aidan consented—or in this case, if he initiated the act—it didn’t count as cheating. They were just pursuing new avenues to spice up their sex life. Nothing dirty or wrong or immoral about it.

  “It’ll be more than sex. I won’t let any man near you who doesn’t know how to give you more pleasure than you ever dreamed.” Slowly, he dragged his fingers through the length of her hair, bringing her nipples to stiff points. God, he knew exactly how to make her hot. “I have very stringent demands for the man we select. Don’t worry that you’ll end up disappointed. I’ll make sure you won’t.”

  On the verge of purring, she let her eyelids slide shut. “You’re a very persuasive man.”

  “I am.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you. Your worry bone, your mind, your sweet heart.”

  She grinned. He’d always said she’d been given both a worry bone and a funny bone, and he had a skill at tweaking both. She’d balked at some of the things he’d suggested between the sheets until he whispered those magical words “trust me.” And he hadn’t disappointed her yet.

  “You forgot to mention my kinky soul,” she teased.

  “A very important part of you to love.”

  He hauled her into his lap for a scorching kiss. His tongue glided between her lips and swirled around hers, caressing every part of her mouth with sensuous patience. Easing back, he cupped her between her thighs and gave her pussy a hard squeeze.

  A moan slipped out of her, followed by another when he repeated the move. She was his, and he proved it every time he touched her.

  “Did you sign Sawyer yet?”

  His words didn’t connect right away. He hadn’t kissed her like that in so long. With affection, yes. But with sizzle? As if just caressing her lips with his made him hungry? No.

  She wanted more.

  “Sawyer?”

  “Yes.” His lips curved tenderly while he stroked her hair. “The model. Remember him?”

  “Right now? Barely.” With the mention of Sawyer’s name, he flooded back in all his naked, sun-kissed glory. Those summer-blue, twinkling eyes. That heartthrob smile. “No. I didn’t sign him yet. He’s understandably wary about signing with an agent, especially an agency like Hot Shots, and we didn’t get much time to discuss specifics.”

  “Do you think he might be amenable to joining us?”

  She reared back in his arms, her eyes wide. “How the hell would I know that? Jesus, Aidan, you don’t really believe I’d be willing to sleep with the talent I want to sign!”

  “Want to sign means you haven’t signed him yet.” Aidan kissed the tip of her nose. “We both know how attracted you are to him. Why take a chance with someone else when he’d be perfect for what we have in mind?” His voice was so quiet. So reasonable.

  Mad people often sounded utterly sane, didn’t they?

  “He’s clearly perfect for what you have in mind,” she muttered. “I still don’t entirely know what that is yet.”

  Semantics. You got the gist, didn’t you?

  “I want to watch him fuck you.” She hardly had time to absorb the erotic thrill his words caused before he went on. “First, from the front, while he pins your hands down next to your head. Then from the back, as you rub your clit and beg him to drive it deeper, harder. After that, maybe I’ll have him tie you up spread-eagle on our bed and enjoy the sight of him fucking you with your purple dildo. While he fucks your mouth with his cock, of course.”

  “Of course.” She swallowed, shocked he’d really thought it all out. Every aspect. Even more shocked that her arousal was now in danger of soaking through her pants. “What if he doesn’t want to do any of that? What if I pass out?”

  His low chuckle vibrated along her sensitized nerve endings. And this was just them talking about a threesome, not actually having it. Christ. She’d simply implode.

  “He’d have a say in the matter. As would you. But I have some things I’d strongly suggest. Must-see action, if you will.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes. Doggy-style—or anal, your choice—is a must. I have to watch him enter you from behind. As you fantasized.” He palmed her hip, bringing back last night’s romp. “And th
e blowjob. I want to see you suck him off. See if you can make his eyes roll back like you always do with me.”

  She shifted, absolutely delighted to feel his hard length wedged against her hip. “I want to suck you right now.” She stroked his erection and pressed her mouth to his to absorb his muffled groan. “You taste so good in my throat.”

  “Mmm.” He cupped her jaw and rubbed her damp lower lip. “You’re going to call him. Tonight.”

  It wasn’t professional. He was a potential client, and she’d be breaking all sorts of ethical codes if she propositioned him.

  Not to mention he might not be into it. Probably wouldn’t be into it.

  They’d had a little heat between them. So what? Men and women flirted all the time. That didn’t mean he wanted to become her lover. What he wanted was work. Work she’d suggested she could get for him if he signed with her.

  He was already wary about the agency. Doing this would just prove him right, and likely get her reported to some board for immoral conduct. Then she’d get fired. Maybe even publicly shamed as some kind of deviant—

  “Layla. Stop overthinking this.” A smile played around Aidan’s mouth. “We’re going to be honest with him. No one’s being forced.”

  “I don’t want to take advantage of the situation. I’m not some sleazy casting director, and he didn’t sit on my couch. Anyway, you’re assuming he’d even want…me,” she said lamely.

  He cocked a brow. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  The flush she felt crawling across her cheeks made her scowl. “You’re biased.”

  “No. I have two eyes.” His breath wafted over her lips. “Trust me. Ask him to come over here and see how he responds.”

  “There’s no way I can sign him, then ask him to do this. I can’t.”

  “So sign him after.” Aidan shrugged as if sex and business mixed just fine. “Or let him be the judge. He’ll get the score quite well if you lay it on the line for him.” Again he squeezed her pussy, and she moaned at the strong pinch of his fingers where she was so swollen and wet. “He’ll choose you, I guarantee it.”