Hot Shots 1: Test Shot

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Hot Shots 1: Test Shot Page 7

by Cari Quinn

“Yes.”

  “And you know I want you.” He reached across the table and held out his hand, waiting until she gave him hers before continuing. “So damn much.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah.” The way he licked the inside of his lower lip caused an instant throb between her legs. “But if you’re not ready, if you need some more time to think, we’ll table this for another time. Or never. Your call. And if he can’t deal with that, I’ll tell him to go to hell for you.”

  His words ignited her libido in a heartbeat. “How is it that you’re single?”

  “Well, let’s see. High school sweetheart broke my heart when she joined the Air Force and said she needed to spread her wings—literally. After we broke up, it was beer and babes for me until I moved here.”

  “And since then?”

  “More beer. No babes.” He grinned and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “Think I’m getting too old for the club crowd. I want to be settled, I guess, and I know the odds that I’ll find the woman for me in a bar is slim.”

  Her stomach twisted with an all-new ache. For him, and for herself, though she wasn’t even sure why. “So this is…what, to you?”

  “A few hours of enjoyment with a woman I like. And what comes with her.” Another quirk of his lips. “Sounds good to me.”

  She swallowed and squeezed his fingers, wanting him to understand that she didn’t do this kind of thing lightly. Needing him to get that. “I wish we could be friends. After. Is that too much to ask?”

  “No. I think I’d like to be your friend, Layla Palmer.” He cocked his head. “What’s your middle name?”

  “Estelle. My mom’s middle name.”

  “Layla Estelle. As feminine as feminine gets. Fits you.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Rocky.” He laughed at her expression. “My mom liked the cartoon dog.”

  “She must be so proud of you.”

  “Considering modeling nude for cash? Oh yeah, I’m sure she’d be overjoyed.” With a final squeeze, he let go of her hand and went back to what was left of his dinner. “But they need the money, and I’m a stubborn son of a bitch. I’ll make it work.”

  “Not all of what Hot Shots does requires nudity. We can aim you toward the tamer jobs. Book covers for some of the erotic publishers, for example. A lot can be done with light and shadows.”

  “I’ll do what needs to be done if I decide to sign with you guys.”

  “Sawyer, if it’s not for you, don’t do it. I’m serious. You need to follow your gut. If it doesn’t feel right, walk away.”

  He forked up the last wedge of steak. “Now who’s sweet?”

  “Can’t take the Nebraska out of us, I guess.”

  “Guess not.” He stared at her, not smiling. Just looking into her, way too deep. “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m pretty sure we both need not to think tonight. I bet we can help each other with that.”

  “I think you’re right.” She stood and began to clear away Aidan’s dishes. “Finish your dinner,” she said when he rose too.

  “It was wonderful, thank you. But any more and you’ll need to roll me out to the street. Besides, I’m ready for wine.” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “And you.”

  That she didn’t shiver was a miracle. “The wine’s chilling. Go on and get it, and I’ll take care of cleaning up. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

  “Uh-huh. I ate; I can help clean up.” He nudged her aside with his hip as he gathered his own dishes. “Goes faster with two, anyway.”

  Really fast, she discovered. They sat down in the living room less than ten minutes later. Aidan hadn’t reappeared yet, but she knew it was just a matter of time.

  She dragged her fist over her midsection. God, she was nervous.

  “We didn’t talk about your limits,” Sawyer said, stretching out his mile-long legs. He’d grabbed a seat on the floor near the fireplace and looked right at home on the thick white carpet. Looked like he could be a damn sexy underwear model, actually.

  And she’d be getting to see that underwear—and more—very soon.

  “Other than your admonition for me to be careful, which you said didn’t mean to be gentle,” he added, taking a swallow of his wine before setting it on the hearth.

  She sipped hers and perched on the edge of the coffee table, careful magazine arrangement be damned. Right now, she had bigger concerns. “I’m okay with most everything.”

  “Define most everything. Please.” At her silence, he held up a hand and started ticking items off on his fingers. “All positions? All toys? A little tying up?” His summery blue eyes darkened, and she knew he was getting to the good stuff. “Blowjobs? Anal?”

  “All fine,” she said, already breathless.

  “Even anal?”

  She nodded and flattened her hands on her knees. She’d tugged down her dress about sixteen times now. “I like it.”

  “Really.” He stretched out the word until she grinned despite her nerves.

  With one more bolstering gulp of her wine, she set the glass aside. She’d already drunk more than half. She couldn’t complain about the vintage or the crisp floral notes, not that she’d paid much attention to either. “Yes. I’ve only done it with Aidan so far, but…yes.”

  “What about me going down on you?” His voice thickened. Deepened. “You’re okay with that?”

  “Of course.” She pressed her thighs together and knew he’d noticed when the corner of his mouth kicked up. “Do any women actually say no?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Then you must not know the right women.” She gave him a flirty look under her lashes. “Or else you’re not too good at it.”

  He accepted her challenge silently, crossing the floor to her on his hands and knees. She had to stifle the urge to moan long before he drew himself up and cupped her jaw. “Want me to demonstrate? Or is that against the rules?”

  “What rules?”

  “Aidan’s not back yet.”

  Guilt churned in her belly. She hadn’t even thought about Aidan since she’d stepped into this room. “I don’t know. He hasn’t really told me what they are.” Hearing herself, she frowned. Didn’t she have some say in this? Aidan had come up with the idea, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t expand upon it. “He can come down whenever he wants. Or interrupt.”

  “Very true.” Sawyer’s thumb coasted down her throat to where her pulse beat rapidly. He had big, capable hands, the kind she could easily see hauling lumber or nailing…things.

  Hopefully he’d be nailing her soon.

  She reached back to start undoing her laces, but he quickly took over the task. He moved in close, crowding her with his chest and his thick biceps. Surrounding her with his earthy scent. “No cologne again,” she mumbled.

  “No.”

  “No aftershave either.”

  “Not my thing.” He stared right into her eyes. “Am I ruining the fantasy? Should I have gussied up?”

  She laughed at his word choice. “No, I like you as you are.” She sucked in more air as he pulled at her laces. “You’re fast with those.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time separating women from their clothing.” He winced. “Smooth move, loverboy.”

  Layla laughed again and moved in to nibble the fascinating hollows underneath his jaw. Now he was the one to breathe in sharply. “We can be honest with each other.”

  “Good. I’m glad. So it’s okay for me to say that I really want to taste you, right?”

  She closed her eyes and let her mouth continue learning his skin. Stubble scraped her cheek, and her nose bumped his chin as she mapped him without benefit of her vision. “I really want you to.”

  He lapsed into silence while he worked to free her from her dress. Air wafted over her skin with each undone lace, until finally, he moved back. Her eyes flickered open just in time to catch the dazed wonderment on his face as he revealed her bare breasts.r />
  “A bra seemed unnecessary,” she began, only to find her words snatched by his mouth pressing down urgently on hers.

  Heat. So much heat. His desperation flowed into her, stirring her own. Fanning the fire he’d coaxed inside her from the first look they’d exchanged.

  His lips weren’t gentle, though his fingers were as they teased her nipples. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and threw her arms around his neck to haul him against her. He came willingly. Her knees jammed into his ribs while their mouths slanted together, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  She needed to be close to him. Wanted to crawl inside his skin. Whether she was escaping her own worries or running toward someplace that felt safe, she didn’t know. Nor did she care.

  With a sound akin to pain, he ripped himself away and fastened his lips on to one erect peak, tugging on her with rough, potent pulls. Pleasure streaked through her body, eliciting a shiver. Encouraging a wave of them. She threw her head back, so far that she glimpsed a flash of blue in the doorway.

  Aidan.

  Sawyer must’ve felt her stiffen, because he jerked back and dragged his hand over his mouth. He was panting. They both were. Irrefutable evidence that they were a heartbeat away from going past the point of no return. Assuming they hadn’t already.

  Seemingly at ease, Aidan strolled past them and tightened his gray terrycloth robe. “Don’t stop on my account.”

  Sawyer shoved a hand through his hair. “I was in a hurry. She didn’t initiate this.”

  “I appreciate your instinct to defend my fiancée’s honor, but I assure you there’s no need.” Aidan sprawled on the couch, his robe falling open to reveal the dark mat of hair on his chest. She’d spent so many nights with that hair tickling her face as she drifted off to sleep. “Now by all means…” He waved a hand and settled into the cushions. All he needed was a bowl of popcorn. “Please continue. Just pretend I’m not here. Unless you’d rather I really not be.”

  Layla blinked at him, her vision as spotty as if she’d been blinded by a bright light. Sawyer had one hell of a mouth. “Of course we want you here.”

  “You do. I’m certain he’d be happy to get you alone.”

  She waited for Sawyer to issue the standard denial, but he didn’t bother. “You’re right,” he said, tone even. “Since that’s not on the table, I’m fine with this.”

  Proving it, Sawyer edged closer and filled his hands with her breasts, thumbing them with leashed need while he licked his way into her mouth. “Open,” he whispered, just before she did.

  His kiss was hungry and hot, his fingers steady and sure. They plucked at her with the experience he’d indicated, each movement designed to heighten her arousal. Slowly, he caressed her tongue with his own, driving deeper and harder until she would’ve sworn there was no part of her she wouldn’t let him invade. No part she wouldn’t offer before he could ask.

  Dimly, she realized he’d released one of her breasts to part her thighs. Her extremely sticky thighs. Embarrassment tried to fight its way through the syrupy heat of her excitement, but it didn’t have a chance when his thumb brushed her narrow thatch of wet curls. “Trimmed, not shaved.” He spoke against her lips. “I like.”

  Then he found her swollen clit, and her hearing shorted out. All except for her own long, broken moan when he darted lower and sank the digit inside her clutching pussy, claiming her with one certain thrust. At the same time, his forefinger circled her rosette. She drew as tight as a bow even as her legs fell open like the stage curtains on opening night.

  His dark chuckle bubbled over her skin. “You do like being touched back there.” He brushed his lips over her cheek. “I should’ve brought lube.”

  “I have some.” The words escaped an instant before she caught her slipup. I have some. Not we. “Upstairs in our bedroom.”

  “I’ll get it.” Aidan slipped past them as silently as a ghost. “Along with anything else you may need. Keep going.”

  “He’s like a perverted activities director,” Sawyer muttered, making her giggle. How she could laugh in this situation, she had no clue. But he made it easy.

  “He wants me to have a good time.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s magnanimous and all, but why can’t he give you a good time without an audience?” Sawyer’s perceptive blue eyes narrowed on hers. “I wouldn’t have any trouble.”

  Her heart gave a hard twist, and she swallowed over the dustiness of her throat. “We’ve been together four years,” she said, hoping that offered enough explanation. It wasn’t enough for her either, but she hadn’t exactly said no, now had she?

  He flicked his tongue over her frowning lips. “What’s your point? I’d devise enough ways to make love to you to keep you occupied for a lifetime.” Instead of giving her time to respond, he flexed the thumb still snug inside her pussy. Her sudden clench of muscles provoked his raw groan. “Ah, baby, you’re going to rock my world, aren’t you?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  Her frown fled when he leaned in to slowly sip from her mouth. “Let’s see if I can rock yours first,” he murmured.

  Chapter Five

  “Lube delivery,” Aidan announced.

  Sawyer drew back from Layla, the snarl in his throat vanishing at the basket Aidan dumped on the rug in front of the fireplace. It contained a virtual treasure trove of implements of sexual pleasure. Tubes of lube, strips of colorful condoms, toys of every size and shape. Handcuffs, silk scarves, and a few other items he couldn’t identify upon first look.

  “What’s up with the condoms? You got something against white?”

  “They’re pretty.” Layla’s light laughter climbed up Sawyer’s spine. “I got a whole bunch of them from one of our customers.”

  “Charming.” He almost asked why they still used condoms so long into their relationship, then decided it was none of his business. Maybe she couldn’t take the pill. Or maybe their supposed trust of each other only went so far.

  “We’re extremely careful,” Aidan said, as if he could read Sawyer’s mind. “We’re not ready for children.”

  “But we will be,” she put in, so quickly that Sawyer almost got whiplash looking back at her. “After the wedding, we’re going to start trying.”

  No reply from Aidan on that one.

  “Have you set a date?” Might as well keep the oddity of this conversation going. Didn’t all threesomes start off with a discussion about family planning and wedding dates?

  “We’re thinking next September.” She laughed again, though this time it sounded forced. “Sorry, you don’t really care about any of this.”

  Because he cared entirely too much, Sawyer shook off the unease curling in his gut and returned his gaze to the basket. “A ball gag? Really?” He glanced at Layla, reassessing once more. “You guys use that?”

  “She loves it. Don’t you, sweetheart?” Aidan tugged on a swatch of black draped over one handle. “Loves the blindfold and cuffs too. Don’t let the innocence fool you.”

  She pushed back a stray curl. “We experiment a lot.”

  “And that’s what I am,” Sawyer prompted. “A new experiment.”

  “Yes.” Aidan strode forward and lowered his hand to Layla’s pussy. With several deft flicks of his fingers, he had her writhing against his palm. “You’re doing a good job. She’s already on the brink of orgasm.”

  “I barely started.”

  Aidan gave him an enigmatic smile. “I told you she’s a gift.” With that, he retreated to the couch.

  Sawyer closed his eyes briefly, needing a moment to get himself in line. As much as he wanted Layla, he had to agree with her. None of this felt right. Her and him, yeah. Somehow they fit. But Aidan bringing them sex toys and checking her arousal like a twisted gyno didn’t work for him. Big-time didn’t work. Maybe he was too romantic or something. Or else he just didn’t know how to share.

  “Sawyer?” Her cool fingertips skimmed his chin. “Are you okay?”

  He forced himself to look at h
er. Her mouth soft and used, her chocolaty eyes filled with wary anticipation. And hope. Turning away from her wasn’t an option.

  In lieu of answering, he reached up to unclip her hair. The long waves fell free around her shoulders, making her appear younger and so vulnerable it almost hurt to look at her. Somewhere in her innocence, he saw his own. And that innocence had nothing to do with sex.

  “Beautiful,” he said, wrapping several ginger strands around his fingers. He gave them a playful tug. “You’re beautiful, Layla.”

  She didn’t smile, but she lifted her lips to his. He sank into the kiss while he twisted her dress farther down her torso. Her breasts popped all the way free of their flimsy restraints, and he bent to suck them in turn, drawing both her flesh and her fruity scent inside him. So sweet, with that edge of tart to make things interesting. Just like the woman herself.

  He yanked her dress off and set it aside, taking as much care as he could considering even moving sent more blood rushing into his cock. Once he returned, he spread her legs wide, hoisting them up so that he could move right between them and press their bodies together. They both whimpered.

  Ah God, yes. If he’d believed they fit together before, here was the proof. His body had become the needle of a record player, following a groove it instinctively knew how to play. “Feel that,” he said against her cheek, rubbing his clothed groin ever so gently against her damp cleft. “Feel how hard I am for you.”

  “Yes.” With a soft moan, she reached around him to slip her hands under his sweater. He wore nothing beneath, and the tentative caress of her hands had him biting off an oath. “Get naked.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Grinning, he hauled his sweater over his head and let it fly. He shed his khakis and his boxer briefs with maximum speed, not counting the hiccup when they caught on the sneakers he’d neglected to remove. Her laughter, so fun and free, lessened his momentary embarrassment instead of increasing it. By the time he was nude and on his knees in front of her again, he knew the delight in her eyes was reflected in his own.

  She gripped his shoulders in both hands and let her gaze travel ravenously from his face down his chest to his stomach. Lingered on his cock. She wet her lips, shifting as if she couldn’t keep still. Her attention never left his erection.

 

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