It’s impossible, he’s a giant compared to me. The farthest I can reach from here are his biceps, so I shuffle around and get to my knees, albeit slowly because my ankle still hurts like a bitch. I can, at least, reach his elbows in this position as he holds the gun straight out in front of him, aiming for one of the targets on the hay bales.
On my knees, I can see over his shoulder, the way his arms are bent ever so slightly and his hands are steadier than I thought possible. He inhales and I expect him to hold his breath there, but after his exhale, the small movement of his finger pulling the trigger causes a recoil that I can feel in his muscles as they tense, relaxing again just as quickly. Then he does it again, and again, and again…each one hitting the center of the targets as he works his way along the row.
The way he shoots is full of confidence and, strangely, a kind of grace.
He turns his head toward the shoulder I’m peeking over, his face so close to mine that I can count his eyelashes.
“You can let go now, Sweet Bee, unless you wanna cling on to me like a monkey all afternoon, but that would defeat the purpose of us being here.” Of course this asshole makes things awkward.
“Smartass.” Unwrapping myself from him, I maneuver back into a sitting position because my ankle is beginning to throb a little.
“A smartass who’s teaching you to shoot.” That smirk he so loves to give is firmly in place as he reloads the gun. Although, looking at the clip, it wasn’t empty.
I can’t see how many bullets fit, and I’m honestly not that interested. I know I should be, this is literally a deadly weapon, but for some reason I trust Tanner to not steer me wrong here.
“Take it.” He hands me the gun, which is still warm from his grip. It’s also a lot heavier than I thought it would be. “Swing your legs off the side of the trunk. You’ll have to do this sitting down for now.”
I do exactly as he instructs, lifting my arms as I face the targets.
“Don’t ever use a weapon without checking it for yourself first.” Grabbing the gun over my hands, he brings it back down to my face. “This is the safety. It’s on right now. Check the clip like this.” He takes the gun and shows me, focused on the task at hand before giving it back. “Don’t anticipate the recoil when you fire. Shooting to the left and down is a common mistake for beginners. And open your fucking eye, you’re not a pirate.”
The information is going in one ear and out the other, but I nod and smile, pretending I’m listening.
“Can I shoot now?” Twisting my head to stare at him, I keep my arms outstretched toward the first target.
“Do it.” He raises a brow like he’s challenging me to keep eye contact.
Okay…challenge accepted.
I pull the trigger without looking, my best attempt at badass. However, a badass I am not. It feels like a tiny explosion has just gone off in my hands. I may be exaggerating, but I was not expecting that.
Tanner smirks—a-fucking-gain—and shakes his head. I could almost imagine him rolling his eyes, but he’s not me.
“Do you feel big and clever now?”
“Yes. I do, actually.” I fire a couple more shots in the general direction of the targets with no idea whether I’m hitting any or not.
“Maybe we shouldn’t start with guns.” He reaches to take the gun away. Probably a good idea, to be fair. I have definitely thought about pointing it at him.
I wouldn’t shoot, of course. For starters, my ankle is too fucked to drive myself or walk home from here. No other reason.
“What’s next, Sir?” Saluting him, I flutter my lashes and smile sweetly.
His expression turns dark, dangerous, and it’s accompanied by a growl so animalistic that I almost check around me to look for a beast. He holds the gun at face level and inspects it, looking from the metal to me and back again.
My eyes widen because I have read enough dark romance novels to have an inkling as to what could be going through his mind and I think it’s exciting me. Is that fucked up? Yes. Do I care? No.
“Do you want me to fuck you with this?” His voice has a deep rasp to it with a direct link to my nipples, but I’m frozen.
Do I answer honestly? If I do, will he judge me?
Huffing a laugh, he puts the safety back on and places the gun in his large bag. “Noted.”
My skin prickles with heat and a little embarrassment, but I push that down as he pulls out a leather pouch. He unrolls it to reveal a selection of daggers, quickly removing one and tossing it at a tree. It sticks, solid in the trunk, then he passes one to me.
“Throw it.”
“Did you leave your manners at home today?” With the dagger now in my hand, I’m full of confidence that I have no right to feel. I’m pretty sure it’s the result of Tanner rather than the dagger, but I’m going with it.
