Page 86 of A Better Place

“Mm-hmm. Sure you are.”

I shrug my shoulders. “So, you were saying?”

“You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

“Not really,” I admit.

“Pay attention,” he admonishes, his voice serious, but the smile on his lips tells me he’s just as happy as I am with focusing on other things.

I watch him closely as he shows me how to hold the gun, load it, cock it, all the different aspects. Teaching-mode-James is hot. I’m also starting to realize that maybe I shouldn’t be around when James and Jack cook together because him doing this? Makes me tingly.

“Ready? I want you to know how to use a gun if I’m not around. It’s no different than learning to box. I’m not saying you need to start carrying a weapon around, but knowing how to use a firearm is simply protecting yourself. You’re strong. You’re fierce. You got this.”

Ah hell.

“I got this.”

He reaches over and moves my headphone so it’s back on my ear. I watch as he fires once, hitting the target just outside of the red center circle. The sound reverberates through my body but barely registers through my ears.

“Holy shit,” I say out loud, but this time I really mean it. My eyes are wide, and my body is vibrating, but if I thought Teaching James was hot? Doesn’t even come close to how sexy it is to see him in protective gun-firing, kick-ass mode. What Will said about endorphins and shooting? Spot. On.

“What was that?” James asks as he turns around to face me.

“Nothing,” I squeak and move my headphones so I can hear him again.

“Your turn,” he says, bringing me in close, our chests brushing up against each other. He shifts his body, his hands making a burning trail around my stomach and chest until he’s standing behind me, his chest to my back. His hands slide up my arms to my neck and slowly pushes my sweater off my shoulders. He leans over and throws it on the chair along with his shirt and jacket then smirks in my direction when I glance his way.

He reaches around me, placing the gun in my hand then circles his strong hands around my biceps. He lifts my arms so they’re in position, moves my hands and fingers so they’re gripping the gun correctly, and wraps my forefinger around the trigger.

His hands make their way from the tips of my fingers to my hips, wrapping around my body, pulling me closer to him.

“Just making sure your stance is good,” he whispers, his breath tickling my neck and the facial hair that covers his jaw scraping against my skin.

Have mercy, it’s like we’re in the middle of our own erotic dance.

“Mmm,” I mumble, not being able to form a full or coherent sentence. Meanwhile, his movements are smooth and confident, enticing and alluring, his lips skimming over my neck softly, and I roll my hips into him, the best kind of foreplay ever.

“Carly,” he whispers into my ear.

“Hmm?”

“We’re here to shoot.”

“What?”

He chuckles. “We’re definitely coming here again,” he says louder before standing up straighter.

His hands grip either side of my waist as he stands behind me. He kisses the back of my head once, twice, three times… and lingers.

“Ready?” he asks, his mouth still pressed to the back of my head.

“Uh-huh.”

“To shoot,” he clarifies.

“Ha ha.”

“Alright, show me what you got.” He moves his hands only briefly from my hips to put our headphones back in place, then moves them back down.

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