Page 90 of Rugger: The Huntress

“You.”

At the end of the staircase, she reserved movement and rested her eyes on mine. Worry lines creased her forehead. I reached down from the second step and smoothed them out one after the other.

“You’re a very smart young woman, Gazelle. The smartest, most clever woman I’ve met in my thirty-four years of life. You’re sharp. You’re lethal. You’re educated. Those are only some of the reasons I’m drawn to you.

“I’ve made my stance and my conviction on the matter has been very clear. I’m willing to do some things I’ve never done to get some things I’ve never gotten. Have some things I’ve never had. Experience some feelings I’ve never experienced. That includes you.

“I won’t let you convince me, with that immaculate brain power of yours, that you haven’t figured that out yet. You have, Gazelle. And, even if you don’t understand why or want to believe your knight has come, start now. At this moment.

“Because, fairytales come true for the girls who chose to learn the anatomy of a Ruger instead of building dollhouses as a jit. You’re just as deserving as the ones who have spent their entire life fantasizing about the very day their distress summons their savior.

“The best part about your story is the fact that you don’t need saving. You need to be sucked and fucked and favored. And, I’m here to give you just that. No questions asked. No holding back. No fear, baby. Just feelings.”

“Sonnie–”

She kissed the skin of her teeth before pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. My dick hardened at the sight of her teeth. I had something better to go between them.

“I’m a shooter, Rugger. A trained shooter. I don’t miss. And, neither do you. If I’m going to risk my life on anyone, it has to be you. I don’t mind being compromised when the woman I’ve been compromised for can clear a platoon in her sleep.

“I don’t give a fuck about my identity or my freedom when I’m fucking a ghost. Not by term but by classification. You don’t see her coming, but you know good and fucking well when she reaches you. The hot lead leaves you no other choice. And, even when you don’t see her, you feel her. She’s that damn good.

“If they come, then let them. There will be black limos lining the street every fucking day of the week for months. There won’t be enough space in the morgues to keep the bodies we’ll send cool. I will not let my chopper breathe until everything coming towards us stops. I will kill everything moving, Rugger. Every-fucking-thing.”

I descended the two steps between us, lessening the distance. When I was close enough, I cupped her chin and glared into those big rounds of hers.

Skills aside, she was precious cargo. She was hardly a woman. Her emotional maturity didn’t exist. She didn’t know how to feel. What to feel. When to feel. Or, what to do when those feelings surfaced. They had been birthed right within those irises and she had no clue what to do with them.

I’d lived my life on the run from anything that kept me grounded,rooted. She wasn’t alone. But, with the way my body reacted to her presence, I knew that this wasn’t something I could run from. So, I ran toward it. Toward her.

Together, we’d figure the rest of this shit out. Together, we’d mature. Together, we’d experience. Together, we’d explore. Together, we’d jump. The cliff was rocky and the fall was steep, but I had no doubt that we’d end on both of our feet.

“And, I won’t have to tell you where to find my collection when the time comes because you’re well aware. You smell the gunpowder, Gazelle.”

I wasn’t a fool. Her courtesy hadn’t convinced me she had come into my home blindly. The way she moved through it the first night she entered the door, I knew she’d studied the plan and remembered it with accuracy.

A smile coated her lips before she pushed upward and met mine. Discrediting her genius for my sake wasn’t necessary, but it was admirable. And, for the effort alone, she would get a few points in my book.

“I didn’t ask to be shown to it. I asked to let me see it,” she corrected, “There’s a difference.”

“You’re right, but your weapon of choice is the only one you’ll be seeing tonight.”

“I won’t complain,” she mumbled against my lips. “Can’t complain.”

Her sultry tone swept the hairs of my arms toward the sky. I didn’t have another second to waste. I lowered my frame to solidify my balance. Once grounded, I hoisted her into the air and took the steps one at a time.

With her forehead pressed against mine, she used the opportunity to take my tongue into her possession. Like a lollipop, she sucked the tip before the rest disappeared into her mouth. Our lips crashed against each other, sealing our connection.

On the second level of my home, I carried Gazelle into the master suite. The king-sized bed, designed for our long limbs and frames, awaited our arrival. Gently, I placed her on top of the comforter as if she was a fragile find at an antique shop.

My dick protested for freedom in my jeans. Parting was good in theory, but convincing my body the time had come was a different story. The disappointment at the mere thought gutted me.

Fuck.

I made the difficult decision to separate our bodies. My priorities quickly changed at the sight of her clothed body. Her freedom carried far more value than mine.

I unbuttoned her pants and slid them down her stilts. Her shoes tumbled to the floor with the soft fabric landing on top of them. Breathlessly, she pulled the string of the contraption around her waist, allowing me to remove it with ease.

One.

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