“Now slam the magazine in, hitting it with your palm to make sure it’s in correctly.”
I fought the shiver rolling down my spine at the timbre in his voice, smooth and deep. It did nothing to mitigate my nerves, only heightened my awareness of him and made my trembling worse until his hands settled on my shoulders and rubbed firmly. “Relax, Addi. You’ll get over this part. We’re not even to the fun part yet.”
The fun part was his hands on mine when we were somewhere more comfortable with a lot fewer clothes on.
This was nerve-racking.
A flash of the red welts still healing on my wrist became visible beneath my long sleeves, and I gritted my teeth. Never again will I be that helpless victim.
I rolled my shoulders and blew out a breath. Then, like Shawn had shown me, I slid the magazine in and slammed it with the heel of my palm.
“Good girl.” A thrill of satisfaction mixed with arousal flashed deep inside of me, and I licked my lips. “Now, we’ll hold it like this.” He took my hands, guided me on how to hold the weapon correctly, and stood behind me. His body caged me in, his chest a hard wall at my back, forcing me to stand straight.
Once he had my hands curled, my left one cupping the bottom of the grip and curling around my right hand, he explained, “See those two white dots at the end and the one up top? Line those up so all three white dots are in a straight line, focus on the middle dot, and then all you have to do when you’re ready is flick off the safety on the left side with your thumb and pull the trigger with the index finger of your right hand.”
He tapped his fingers on each side as he spoke. I flicked off the safety and curled my right finger on the trigger.
The dots turned blurry and then cleared as I blinked.
“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, placing my ear protection back on. “On your exhale, pull the trigger.” His voice was muffled, but I heard him clearly. “Remember, this is a small gun, small gauge of bullets, but the gun will still have a small kickback, flicking the barrel up slightly. Aim the white dot wherever you want to shoot on the target, breathe in, pull on the exhale. Got it?”
“No.” I shook my head, grinning. How did people ever become so used to this they used a gun as an extension of their body? The way Luca had aimed and shot like he’d been born with a weapon, the men who had fired back—hell, even the casual way Shawn handled his at the end of the night.
I held a weapon in my hand that could potentially kill someone. Becoming so used to using it I could become so casual with it baffled me.
“You can do it. When you’re ready, okay?”
I nodded, thought through all the instructions he’d given me. Aim, dots, breathe, shoot. Simple.
After a few moments, Shawn moved back, and I missed the heat and weight of him behind me, but his hands settled at my hips, holding me steady.
He let me take my time, growing comfortable with the weight of my gun in my hand.
Like everything else we’d been through, Shawn was taking this at my pace, my comfort level.
It was that realization that settled me. I lifted the gun, blinked through blurry white dots until one settled bright and clear. I pointed it directly at the red and black circular ringed target twenty-five feet away from us, exhaled, pulled.
The muffled but still loud bang rattled me along with the small jerk of my wrists.
And then it was done.
I all but dropped the gun on the table before me, shocked.
I just shot a gun.
“Nice hit.” Shawn’s approval rang in my ear, and I bit my lip.
I squinted, eyed the target in front of me, and found the tiny hole, two inches to the right of the red bull’s-eye.
“Wow.” I grinned back at him over my shoulder. “I am good at this.”
Shawn threw his head back and laughed, distracting me with his delicious, corded throat.
“Let’s go then, sniper,” he teased, tightening his hold on my hip. “Show me what you’ve got.”
My nerves vanished, quickly replaced with anticipation and making me tremble.
I could rise to this challenge.
After all, my life might literally depend on it.
“You’re on.” I glared at him, earning me another laugh.
With Shawn’s muffled laugh ringing in my ear, I faced the target and picked up the gun.
“That was amazing.” I took a huge bite of my half-pound bacon cheeseburger and groaned at the taste of it and the memory of the shooting range.
We were at his kitchen table, having grabbed food on the way home. I’d wanted to stop in, but Shawn said it wasn’t safe, so I settled on a takeout order from a local whiskey tavern restaurant with a gorgeous outdoor patio I was desperate to eat at some day.
For now, I was content to sit across from Shawn as he shook his head, amused by my excitement. We’d left the range an hour earlier, and the first thing I’d asked was when we could go back.
He’d been right. Shooting a gun was a blast, and now I felt silly for all the years I spent so nervous around them. Sure, they were deadly weapons, but once I got used to the feel of it and the rush of hitting a target, my nerves turned to something else.
I felt powerful. And it was a heady sensation.
If Shawn thought I was sexy before, I was pretty certain he thought I was a hundred times more sexy now. He couldn’t wipe away the heated look in his eyes, especially once I finally hit the bull’s-eye three shots in a row.
My aim got worse when we switched to higher caliber guns, but I had the target from the twenty-two tucked away in the back seat of his truck.
I was framing that baby. Taping it to the wall next to my bed.
Because hot damn—I never would have thought learning how to shoot a gun would make me feel like a badass warrior.
Shawn mixed a fry in some gross dip, a mixture of mayonnaise and mustard he swore was delicious, and popped it into his mouth. “I told you you’d love it.”
“It was pretty…” I searched for the right word. It didn’t take long. “Empowering.”
His thick brows rose in surprise, and he chewed another fry.
The food was incredible, even if being reminded of why I’d gone to the shooting range in the first place almost made me lose my appetite.
I blotted the corners of my mouth with a napkin. This burger was one of the best I’d ever had, but I’d barely been able to finish it, hadn’t touched a single fry.
“So, what do we do now?”
Without work, without much of a social life, the outing had left me more restless. I’d had a small taste of freedom again, and now it was dashed. We’d done nothing except work out, which for me mostly included walking on his treadmill and watching Netflix because I’d never lifted a weight in my life. I’d binge-watched so many high school vampire shows in the last few days I was starting to think they truly existed.
Shawn pushed his plate out of the way and leaned forward, running a hand through his hair before he settled his forearms on the table.
“I have an idea of something we could do.”
The look in his eyes created a spooling heat low in my stomach. “Yeah?” I asked, and my voice had turned breathy. Husky. “What’s that?”
“How about—the first person to make it to the shower and get naked gets to choose what we do after?”