Test Shot by Cari Quinn

he growled low in his throat. “Don’t you fucking move, Nebraska.”
    “Sorry.” Of all the responses he expected, laughter wasn’t one of them. Her body shook, offering the unintended consequence of jiggling his spent cock.
    The pulse of renewed blood flow was almost painful, and he bit down where his mouth landed beside her ear. “Tease.”
    More laughter, louder now. “You like it.”
    “Hell yeah, I do.” He rolled her beneath him, grabbing her hands and pinning them on the floor above her head. She writhed, those lights of mischief still dancing in her eyes. “What should I do to you now?”
    She whisked her tongue over her teeth, playing the role of the coy tease to the hilt. “You need a while to recuperate, don’t you, baby boy?”
    “Baby boy, huh?” He locked one hand around her wrists and dragged the other down the center of her body, bypassing her breasts and the gentle rise of her belly for the inverted triangle of curls between her thighs. “We’ll see about that.”
    He plunged two digits deep inside her, holding them there while he feasted on her lips. Then he crooked them, rubbing his knuckles and the pads of his fingers over sensitive flesh he’d branded temporarily his own—if only in his own mind.
    “Sawyer, please.”
    How fast the amusement left her face. Now she was pure, straining woman, teetering on the verge. Begging him for the mercy he would never show.
    A flex of those fingers and she went wild beneath him. He streaked his thumb over her clit, and more of her juice eased his passage. Deeper he pumped. Her back bowed into an erotic bridge that drove her nipples against his chest. Then he yanked his hand away.
    Her narrow-eyed look of malice prompted his own laugh. “You had your chance to come. Now you suffer. Roll over.”
    He released her hands and waited for her to argue. But she flipped onto her belly obediently, her long hair fountaining over her back in wild corkscrew curls. Fucking hot. He buried his hands in it, not realizing that he’d happened upon one of her erogenous zones until a skim of his nails over the base of her scalp caused her to thrust her ass up in the air.
    And oh, what an ass it was.
    “I want to bite you right here.” He pulled her hair to get her to watch while he cupped one of her luscious cheeks. “Leave the imprint of my lips there so that when your panties rub over the mark, you remember.”
    “She hardly ever wears panties,” Aidan said without inflection.
    And just like that, the playful, sexy mood between him and Layla vanished.
    She curled her fingers into a fist at her side. Sawyer closed his hand over hers in reassurance. It took him a few seconds to realize the big honking bauble scoring his palm just happened to be her engagement ring. Of course.
    Dammit, what was up with his urge to shield her? He was the odd man out in this situation. She didn’t need his concern.
    “Thanks for the tip,” Sawyer said, holding her fist for one more moment before seizing her ass in both hands. “So I’ll have to be more creative where I bite her.”
    “I do wear pants, you know.” Her tone had turned cross. “And clothes in general.”
    Aidan crossed the room to them, and this time Layla wasn’t the only one who stiffened. “Pity, isn’t it?” He knelt near Layla’s head. “I know I promised to let you enjoy yourselves in peace, but I underestimated how arousing you would be together.”
    Sawyer glanced away as Aidan drew out his cock, but not before he saw the fat drop of precum hovering on the tip. He said nothing, just watched while Aidan fisted Layla’s hair and dragged her up with one swift move that made her moan. Then her mouth was full of him, and her only sounds were muffled sucking noises.
    He didn’t want to watch them together. Though he’d come over here knowing that he’d likely be part of a threesome, that had been before he’d gotten to steal part of her for himself for a while. Inexplicably, a corner of his heart