Hot Shots 1: Test Shot

by Cari Quinn

  But Aidan remained attentive, his arm a possessive support around her waist as they mingled with the other couples. He never left her side, and every time their eyes met, his were warm and loving.

  Could their night with Sawyer have brought them closer together? Maybe reaffirmed for Aidan what he had? She could hope.

  As soon as they arrived home, she set her purse on the table in the foyer and shrugged out of her light jacket. The night was a bit chilly, but that wasn’t why her nipples hardened to peaks the instant she glimpsed Aidan’s hungry look.

  “Don’t stop there.” He reached up to undo her hair from its French twist. “I want you naked.”

  Her mouth went dry. God, this whole evening had been like a dream come true, minus her abject exhaustion. How long had she been waiting to hear those words from him? It had been so long since he’d approached her for sex. Even longer since she’d heard that undercurrent of urgency in his tone when it was just the two of them.

  When there wasn’t an audience.

  Before she could begin to strip, he did it for her. He tugged at the fancy mother-of-pearl buttons on her blouse, then yanked both it and her bra off her arms. Her short black skirt came off next, though he didn’t give her thigh-high garters a glance before he whirled her around and sculpted her bare ass in his hands. “Wet for me?”

  She shivered from the pull of his lips on her neck. “You have to ask?”

  His chuckle, so dark and dirty, caressed her skin. “Such an eager little thing you are. So last night didn’t take the edge off, then? He didn’t give you everything you need?”

  Just like that, the pulse between her thighs stopped.

  Thank God he hadn’t checked for himself how ready she was, because the mention of Sawyer doused her libido. Not what they’d done. She’d loved every minute of their lovemaking. It was all the emotional crap she still hadn’t managed to sort into orderly piles on the shelves in her mind that wreaked havoc with her sex drive. And everything else.

  “I’ll always need you.”

  He didn’t question her hesitation, just chuckled again and grabbed hold of her breast. “I want your ass.”

  She closed her eyes at the thrill that shot straight to her clit every time he twisted her taut nipple. “Oh yeah?” She rocked against him, massaging the rigid cock tenting his dress pants. “You wanna fuck me right here?”

  “Right here.” He pushed apart her thighs and dragged his thumb over her seam, grunting in either pleasure or disappointment at what he found. “I’ll be right back.”

  Once he’d gone, she bit her lip. Definite disappointment. He always used to tease her that she made all the lube he’d ever want. Not tonight. But what did he expect? As excited as she was that he was turned on, even she needed more foreplay than a few pulls on her breasts.

  She especially needed not to think about Sawyer.

  Aidan returned a moment later, lube and condom in hand. She figured he’d go right for the goal without taking any time for detours. He surprised her by nibbling his way across her shoulder while he slipped his slick fingers into her pussy.

  She moaned and arched into his touch, clenching around the two digits he plunged into her. “Mmm. There’s my girl, warming right up for me.”

  “You know I always do.”

  “Mmm-hmm. You’re mine, aren’t you, Layla?”

  “Yes.” She shut her eyes and lost herself in his strokes. Having his body so hot and hard against hers felt beyond perfect. She’d missed him so much, even when he slept in the bed beside her. This was how things were supposed to be. The two of them together, trapped in longing. Trapped by—

  Trapped.

  Her eyes opened as Aidan drew back and uncapped the lube. His damp fingers probed her rosette, testing her excitement. Normally, she urged him to hurry. She couldn’t wait to have him inside her, stretching her with his cock. But this time, the rip of the foil package sounded more like a threat than a promise. When the blunt tip of his erection circled her back entrance, she tensed.

  Biting her lip, she fisted her hands and widened her stance in the hopes of hiding her body’s reaction. If she shut him down now, who knew when he’d come back for more? She just had to relax. Focus on how good she’d feel once he was lodged in her ass and she couldn’t concentrate on anything but that unrelenting fullness.

  But he noticed. He always noticed.

  “Layla?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Go ahead? Like you’re a glory hole at some club?” He grasped her shoulder and turned her around so that she had no place to hide. “What’s wrong?”

  Glory hole? What was that? “Nothing.”

  “Why are you lying to me?”

  “I’m not lying.” She reached for his cock, her hand sliding in the lube he’d already drizzled on the condom stretched over his length. “You’re talking way too much.”

  “Am I?” Moving so fast she had no time to prepare, he locked his hand around her throat and drove her backward until her back slammed against the wall. His fingers tightened while he pressed his body to hers, holding her in place with his fulsome erection and his cold stare. “Then we’ll settle this a different way.”

  She whimpered as he hiked up her hip, but it wasn’t from fear. They’d gotten rough before. Very rough. Close to crossing a few lines, had she actually had any places where he wasn’t allowed. That knife’s edge of fear brought her to the highest peaks, because she knew she could dangle over the edge and he’d never let her go.

  “Yes.” When he pushed into her pussy with one strong thrust, she hissed it. “Yes.”

  He wasn’t careful. Wasn’t reverent or romantic or any of the myriad other adjectives she’d once believed were the property of those in love. He fucked her like an animal, hammering into her so that bruises seemed to bloom inside and out, a million small contusions that couldn’t compete with the pounding he inflicted on her heart.

  She reached for her orgasm with both hands, flinging herself into it with the conviction of the damned. Finally. A scream burst from her, the sound cutting off abruptly from the crush of his mouth. She siphoned his breath when she lost hers, each drag of his cock along her sensitive nerve endings creating a whole new riot of sensations inside her. The explosion nearly rocked her off her toes. Then he was coming too, so hard that she had to burrow her nails into his side to keep from being driven wholesale into the wall with the force of his strokes.

  They collapsed together, shuddering like addicts. Hanging on to each other to keep from pooling on the floor.

  It was over too soon. Before she’d readied herself, he was drawing back, mumbling apologies and excuses. None of them made sense. She didn’t need him to apologize for their first true coming together in what felt like a lifetime. Didn’t want him to. After what they’d shared, only silence fit the aftermath. But he filled it with those fumbling, meaningless words, and when she didn’t respond, he left her shaking in the front hall with her clothes scattered around her.

  They didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

  Sunday, he went to meet with some students for coffee, and she paced through their townhouse, unable to settle. She must’ve glanced at the phone a dozen times, but she didn’t pick it up. Sawyer wouldn’t want to talk to her. She didn’t know what to say in any case. As she’d had no idea what to say to Aidan when he strode out the door that morning, briefcase in hand and a polite smile on the face that had been filled with such erotic madness the day before.

  When he returned that evening, dinner was waiting. She’d made a vegetable stew, served with thick slabs of bread. He didn’t touch the carbs, as she’d figured he wouldn’t, but had a beer with dinner. By the time their silent, awkward meal was over, she wished she’d joined him.

  “You want to call him. I can see it in your eyes.”

  She glanced up from the remnants of soup she’d been chasing around her bowl with her bread. “There’s no need. It won’t make things better. He probably hates us. Me.”

&nb
sp; “He’s a goddamn man, Layla. Doubt he’s sitting around pouting.”

  “Oh, and men don’t have feelings? Is that it? They don’t care when people use them and toss them aside?”

  “Is that what you did? I must’ve missed that.”

  “No.” Her lips trembled so she pressed them together. “I didn’t use him. I just…”

  “What?” Aidan’s tone gentled.

  She made herself meet his gaze. “He’s not like us.”

  “What does that mean?” No censure, just curiosity.

  “He’s…softer.” He’s like I used to be. Before you. Before the me I became with you. But she couldn’t say that, because that was no more fair than how they’d treated Sawyer. She had responsibility to bear in all of this.

  Because she’d wanted Sawyer. She’d ached for him in her bed before Aidan had voiced the question. At first, he’d just been a sexy guy in a magazine. And then, when she’d glimpsed herself in his eyes, when she’d reached out to him and found more there than defied explanation, she hadn’t wanted to let go. Even if it hurt him.

  “I’m selfish,” she whispered. “So goddamn selfish.”

  “Because you want more.”

  She didn’t want it to be true. But she couldn’t lie, not to Aidan. He looked at her with such compassion she could only nod.

  “So call him. Give him the choice.” He reached out and stroked her inner wrist, his blunt fingertips settling her chaotic pulse like a careful hand on a skittish horse. “It’s not selfish to be honest about what you need, Lala.”

  “What about us?”

  “I’m right here.” More stroking, so gently. Her rapid breaths slowed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re not angry?”

  For once, he didn’t motion for her to come to him. This time, he rose and crouched at her side before pulling her into his arms. “I opened the door.” He kissed her hair, her cheeks. Down her jaw until their mouths brushed, and she knew he could taste the wayward tears she hadn’t realized she’d cried. “We’ll walk through it together.”

  “I love you,” she managed, holding him close. She wouldn’t ever let him go.

  Want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you? One man’s not enough; now you want two?

  “And I you. With all my heart.” He drew back and smiled. “Go call him, sweetheart. Let him have the option of what he does next.”

  She nodded and rose with him, her hand in his. “He might say no.”

  “He might. I doubt it.” He drew a fingertip down a loose spiral curl that insisted on escaping from her bun. “I think I’d like to join in this time.”

  Since when did he ask for anything? He just took. Just bulldozed and insisted and convinced. Made her believe he knew her secret thoughts before they’d even formed. Usually, he was right.

  “Of course,” she murmured. “Assuming Sawyer says yes, we’ll put it on the table.”

  “Discuss it all like reasonable, mature adults.” He smudged the damp half-circles under her eyes while his warm, steady breath dried her cheeks.

  “You forgot horny.”

  His grin made her grin in return. “I never forget that part, sweetheart. Go call him.” He waved a hand at the dishes on the table. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Jeez, he was asking instead of demanding and handling cleanup? A banner day.

  Gratitude flared inside her as she tugged him in for a quick kiss. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed. We’ll all benefit.” He smacked her ass, and just like that, the domineering Aidan she knew and adored was back. “Now make that call.”

  * * * *

  He’d asked to participate. That either proved he loved his fiancée more than he feared losing her, or that he had no clue of his own limits.

  It didn’t take Aidan long to decide his answer lay beyond trap door number two.

  They were sensational together. The way Layla laughed so easily in Sawyer’s presence coupled with Sawyer’s simmering, slow-building intensity highlighted exactly how right Aidan had been that she needed more than he could give her anymore.

  Only now he was beginning to question what he’d given her in the first place. Love, yes. Orgasms, sure. But had her abiding desire to make him happy overridden all the little incompatibilities he’d refused to see?

  His desire to have the life he’d always pictured for himself with her had overridden everything else. For a time. For the first few years of their relationship, his love for her and their deep friendship had filled him up to the point he hadn’t noticed anything lacking. He wouldn’t let himself. She was his world and the key to the life he—and his parents—had always envisioned. The parts of his past he refused to acknowledge wouldn’t hurt her as long as he never lost sight of the goal.

  And he never had. His focus on keeping Layla happy, on building the seemingly perfect hetero relationship, had never wavered. In turn, he’d discovered a different sort of joy, the kind that came from abiding trust and a commitment to seeing something through no matter what.

  He’d believed they would find their way together and that sheer will would overcome any difficulties in their path. Her longing for children, for one. He’d been honest about his ambivalence but maybe not honest enough. He should’ve told her he doubted his feelings on the subject would ever change. Wanting something wasn’t enough to make it so.

  God, had he ever learned that.

  So why was he testing himself? To prove just how spectacularly he could fail?

  She’d dressed in a frilly white cotton nightgown, the kind that made a man think she might be equally at home on a pillow at his feet or stirring a big pot on the stove. If that man didn’t look into her dark, hungry eyes. But Sawyer did, the moment he crossed the threshold of their bedroom and took her in his arms.

  They didn’t waste time on talk tonight. Within moments, the nightgown was off, and Sawyer had shed his own jeans and T-shirt, leaving Aidan the only one still relatively dressed as he watched them from the sitting area.

  “I want you on top.”

  “Mmm. Eager, aren’t we?” She tossed back the hair Sawyer had freed right off and stroked his cock from root to tip. He had a beautiful dick that matched the rest of him: golden, sleek, and ready for action.

  Aidan shifted in his seat, the robe he’d donned opening in deference to his own erection. All cocks were not the same, he’d realized. He’d never lived with a man other than his father, so there hadn’t been ample opportunities to study them. Even in college, he’d never had a male roommate. He’d hoped avoidance would work to quash the curiosity fostered in a junior high school locker room.

  That had worked until Josh.

  Lately he’d seen others. He didn’t look long, but he couldn’t deny himself brief glimpses. Or the noises of furtive lust. He found them and more, in the alley between the shops he visited most often in Times Square. There he absorbed the sounds of arousal, those slick, frantic jerks of moist flesh. Sometimes he’d watch while one man shoved another’s cheek to the brick that sided the alley while he fumbled his stiff length inside his lover’s ass. By then Aidan’s own length would be pulsing, his briefs uncomfortably warm with the arousal that seeped free without conscience.

  As it seeped now, while his fiancée, the woman he’d loved and lay beside for four years, pleasured Sawyer with her able, agile mouth.

  Her red hair fountained around her shoulders, as untamed as the laughter she gave Sawyer between moans. They seemed to get off on teasing each other. Her pert little ass wiggled while her head bobbed, and her breasts cushioned Sawyer’s dick. Now and then she lamented her generous curves, but Aidan thought they suited her lush personality. Sawyer definitely seemed to delight in exploring them.

  “Nebraska, up.”

  “Why?” She frowned when he dragged her head off his shiny, swollen hard-on.

  The view was incredible, and Aidan shifted again at the subtle contraction in his balls. Soon it wouldn’t be subtle. He’d have to either
jerk himself to completion or he’d have to join them on his and Layla’s sea-sized bed and face certain temptation.

  Her pussy, as slick and inviting as it was, wouldn’t lure him. No, his distraction would be that throbbing rod of Sawyer’s, almost innocent in its proud, upright stance. Not knowing a predator was afoot, one who’d just as eagerly toss Layla aside to snatch what he wanted as he would fist his own throbbing dick.

  “This buffet should be for two.” With a grin, Sawyer flipped his position until he’d stationed himself between her pale thighs. She laughed and returned to her own task, swallowing Sawyer with a slurp that made Aidan groan. Jesus.

  She flicked her pink tongue over the head of Sawyer’s cock, watching Aidan all the while. Smiling when her fiancé gripped his shaft and began to time his strokes with the pulls of her mouth.

  Sawyer’s ass bunched tight from her attention, and he reciprocated by devouring her luscious sex. The noises of their oral loving crescendoed in Aidan’s ears, driving him to the brink before the ache even registered in his wrist.

  Layla clutched Sawyer’s hair and writhed against his lips, oblivious to the erection that had slipped free of her mouth to lurch so close to her cheek. Aidan couldn’t claim the same. That long pike drew Aidan’s focus, causing a surge of arousal so potent his legs spasmed though he was sitting down.

  He exhaled. Why had he said he wanted to participate in this again? To torture himself more? Sawyer was ruler straight; he’d made that clear. And though Aidan was reasonably certain a corpse would be attracted to a guy as well-built as Sawyer, it wasn’t even Sawyer himself who ignited his hunger. He’d had a taste of what he longed for, and now the beast refused to remain chained in its cage.

  Seeing Sawyer in the throes of climax—with his woman, no less—just served as a reminder of everything he would never have. Not orgasms. He loved sleeping with Layla, but so much of that was about his love for her rather than the sex itself. He’d never experienced sex with a man, not the full monty. Never would. By choice, even if it sometimes felt like a noose that would strangle him.

  “Switch positions,” Aidan demanded as Layla reclaimed Sawyer’s hard-on.