Page 2 of Rugger: The Huntress

S&W.

SD 2.0.

40 Caliber.

Market value of $350.

Weighs 22.7oz

A bitch’s gun.

Compact.

10 rounds of ammunition.

Polymer grip.

Polymer frame.

Disgusted, I accessed the short list of details about the amateur piece of steel.

Pathetic. I cringed, disappointed for the second time tonight.

There won’t be a third.

“Here,” Lionel insisted, replacing his fingers around the grip with mine.

Slowly, I adjusted to the feeling of the cheap piece of steel in my hand.

“Now you have.”

“Is this the one you use to catch the bad guys?”

My arousal began seeping from the seat of my panties. The scent was heavenly. From the flaring of Lionel’s nostrils, it was apparent he could smell it, too.

“No.” He shook his head.

I shoved the gun against his skin, pointing at his chest.

“Hands up,” softly, I demanded.

Both hands went in the air as his right cheek fattened from the smirk on his face.

“All I have is what you’re sitting on, officer. And, you can have that.”

It’s not enough.

“Fair enough.”

I moved the gun from his chest. Underneath his chin, I rested the muzzle. Contentment paraded around me. It took every ounce of strength I was in possession of not to close my eyes and rejoice.

Invigorating.This feeling was almost beyond explanation.

“What else do you have?”

I used my thumb to toggle the safety.

“What else do you want?” He chuckled.

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