But, fuck, we went down hard.
My body crushed to hers, my much bigger frame likely knocking the wind out of her just as much as the impact itself did.
There was no time to think about that, though.
Not as the bullets rang out.
I’d been in the criminal underworld—and specifically as an arms dealer—long enough to know that the rapid-firepop pop popbelonged to the kind of assault weapon that could do unimaginable damage to anyone in its path.
That many rounds meant that many chances to strike a target and snuff out life.
My body braced, every muscle tightening, some part of me waiting to feel a bullet slice through flesh, to wedge, to do major damage. Another several months in bed. Or, worse yet, in a casket.
Still, better me than Gracie.
So while I knew she would be more comfortable, I didn’t dare lift up at all, didn’t risk a single inch of her body being exposed to possibly catch a bullet.
More bullets exploded from the gun. Most seemed not to reach any local targets at all. But others made thudding sounds as they sliced into trees. Or into the barn itself. And hopefully not into the bodies of the women or the male stripper inside.
My pulse was thready and frantic. And I was pressed tightly enough against Gracie to feel her own heartbeat thundering in her chest.
There was a peeling sound as, I imagined, the car pulled off.
But I didn’t move.
Not yet.
Not until I was sure it was safe.
But I did brace some of my weight onto my forearms, pressing up enough to let her take a deep breath.
She did, her chest rising up to press back into mine.
And, fuck, I noticed.
Way more than I should have.
The soft press of her round breasts against my chest.
I blamed noticing them earlier for how fucking acute my focus was on them right then, despite the danger.
One breath.
Two.
Three.
And on that third inhale, it seemed like the shock gave way to an adrenaline crash, making a shiver course through her and her nipples to pebble up and poke against me.
My stomach tensed.
My cock twitched.
And I prayed to fuck she didn’t notice. Even though my pelvis was pressed hard to hers.
I needed to put more space between us before my cock started to get a mind of its own and thicken, strain, become impossible to hide.
I put more weight onto my forearms and pushed further up, just enough so our chests no longer brushed.
