Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“First things first, you always treat your gun like it’s loaded. You never shoot until you’re sure of your target and everything beyond it. Nod if you understand.”
I nodded. I did understand. But I was too busy with the sensation of his body pressing against mine to actually comprehend.
“We all have a dominant eye. Mine was taken by Achilles. Yours is your right eye. Its pupil moves first when you read lips. This is the eye you’ll always keep open. Nod.”
Another jerk of my chin. I felt his erection digging into the curve of my lower back. He made no attempt to shift away, but also didn’t draw any closer.
Would it really be so bad if we had sex the way he preferred? It wasn’t like I had anything else to compare it to. And something in me wanted to please my husband.
“Your goal is to form small groups at the same point to check your accuracy. Choose a spot on the target.”
“The center of his chest,” I answered verbally. He nodded, his stubble brushing against the side of my neck.
His scent. His touch. His very existence made me drunk.
“Pay attention to your wrist. Here.” He adjusted my hands. “This’ll help you avoid jams. Watch your stance, baby.” He kicked my legs apart, and the movement was so confident and erotic that something inside me clenched and heated.
Baby.
“The wider your legs are, the firmer your core. Now I want you to show me a good, steady grip. Yeah, just like that. You’re ready.”
Evidently, I wasn’t.
My first shot hit the target’s head. My second—his shoulder. The third one got his throat, and the fourth finally got the center of his chest, through sheer luck rather than technique. Tiernan walked me through my many mistakes. He had good input. Too bad I couldn’t concentrate on anything when his body was glued to mine, his hands encasing my own, his scent wrapping an invisible hand around my throat, squeezing erotically.
Desire.
Just like that, I understood perfectly all the Roman legends and Greek mythology stories about empires falling and heroes sinning for lust.
The session lasted for another hour before Jace knocked on the side of our booth.
“Callaghan. You’re up.”
Tiernan nodded and motioned with his hand. A clean target sheet was placed in front of us. This one was rolled all the way to the back, twice as far as the length I trained with.
Tiernan unloaded my gun, emptied my chamber, and handed it back to me. He nudged me aside, the loss of his body against mine leaving goose bumps across my arms. I stood back and watched as his target started moving, jerking from side to side on its cord. Tiernan raised one steady hand, and in two-second increments, shot the target in the head eighteen rounds with chilling accuracy.
By the time they rolled the target toward us, there were only two bullet holes in the center of the forehead and nowhere else. He basically rammed through the exact same spot over and over again.
“Legend.” Jace slumped against the wall, a postorgasmic look on his face. “Fucking legend.”
Tiernan turned toward him, tossing our earmuffs into his hands. “Out.”
Jace floored it out of our booth.
“What’s wrong?” Tiernan swiveled to scowl at me.
“Why do you think something is wrong?”
“You’ve been staring.”
Blush crept up my cheeks. I was completely taken with a man who did no more than tolerate my presence in his life so my family could help him.
He didn’t choose me. He was forced into this union.
“I’m just annoyed with myself for doing so poorly,” I lied.
Explaining I was daydreaming about him kissing me silly was out of the question.
“Seen worse.” Tiernan unloaded his pistol. “Your brother Enzo couldn’t shoot an elephant if it sat right on top of him.”
I gave him a chiding look.
“You’re lying.”
His stone-cold expression remained stoic. “Why do you think he prefers knives?”
“You’re jealous because he’s good with his hands.”
“And I’m not?”
“I wouldn’t know. You haven’t touched me much.”
His smirk was mocking, amused. “Are you flirting with me, wifey?”
I pushed at his chest, my face unbearably hot. “Hardly.”
“Looks to me like you are.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. It’s working.”
“Maybe guns aren’t for me.”
“Guns are for everyone.” He threw me an incredulous look. “Especially the wife of a man who just killed the Russian pakhan.”
“Is that why I have so many bodyguards?” I asked. “Because of the dead pakhan?”
“Why the fuck else?”
“Because of what happened to me.”
“That won’t ever happen again. You’re mine now, Lila.”
“But the Russians can still hurt me,” I pointed out. “Maybe the answer is not to be married anymore.”
I gave him my back, stomping out of the booth. I wanted to escape this feeling. This urgency. The need to touch him. To conquer something inside him I wasn’t even sure existed.
Tiernan clasped me by the wrist, yanking me back to him. My body slammed against his, my full, tender breasts colliding with his abs. He glowered at me, a hint of disgust pulling the corner of his lips down.