The shot was louder than I anticipated, echoing in the enclosed space like a whip crack. My hands jerked from the recoil, and I let out a breath. Lowering the gun, I stared downrange at the perfect hole in the upper left-hand corner with a mix of relief, anxiety, and an almost jittery kind of excitement.

Sure, my aim was far from flawless, but I’d hit it. I’d actuallyshotsomething.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed.

He beamed with a feral gleam in his eyes. “Right?”

I couldn’t help but smile. The adrenaline coursing through me made my hands shake, but it wasn’t the same kind of fear that had gripped me before. This was something different, something more alive.

“Do you want to go again?” Tommas asked, his voice laced with encouragement.

I considered it, peering down at the gun. The weight of it no longer felt as burdensome, and the idea of getting another chance to improve was tantalizing. But my arm, still healing from the bullet wound, throbbed from the strain.

“Maybe just one more,” I said, not wanting to let this newfound courage slip away, but also aware of my physical limits.

I ended up shooting two more times, and though neither shot hit the target anywhere near the center, I was simply thrilled they both pierced the paper.

“Good job.” Tommy beamed, his smile crooked in all the right ways. “I knew you’d be a natural at this.”

I flourished under his praise, the grin on my face permanently affixed.

Finished with our impromptu training session, he took the gun from me and unloaded it with swift, practiced motions. He set it on a nearby counter and walked over to a cabinet.

“Tell you what,” he said, opening it to reveal several shiny brand-new handguns. “Take your pick.”

My eyes widened. Each one gleamed, pristine and lethally beautiful. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged with that casual nonchalance he wore so well. “You need something that fits you.”

I bit my lip, staring at the array of weapons. The thought of owning a gun, of having that kind of power and responsibility, was daunting. But there was also a thrill to it, that same sense of taking back control.

“Take your time and don’t be afraid to pick them up. See what feels best,” Tommas instructed, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

I inspected each of them before picking up a matte black pistol that looked a little smaller than the others. It was lighter, and the weight of it felt more balanced than the gun I’d just trained on. I could picture myself holding it with confidence someday, aiming and firing with precision. Maybe even defending myself if it ever came to that.

“This one.” I showed it to Tommas.

Uncrossing his arms, he straightened and took it from me, inspecting it himself. Those irresistible lips quirked to the side. “Excellent choice. It’s a good fit for someone with smaller hands. A lot easier to handle than what you’ve been practicing with.”

The way he looked at me, with approval and praise, warmed me from the inside out. That heat spread, and my perfume erupted.

Those same eyes darkened with visceral need, and he leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “But maybe you should test it, just to be sure. Come on.”

I let him guide me over to the range again, placing me front and center. The long line of his body pressed against my back, and his arms encircled me, aligning with mine, careful not to bump or rub against my injury while he helped me hold the gun.

Breath ghosted against my ear, his lips grazing the outer shell as he murmured, “How does that feel?”

My brain short-circuited momentarily, and I hummed. “You feel incredible.” I loved having him this close, every inch of us touching, his hard planes melding with my softness. My thoughts were barely coherent, the insatiable blaze within me climbing to new heights.

Tommy chuckled, and the low, deep, rich tone went straight to my clit. My thighs squeezed, and more of my perfume filled the air.

“I meant the gun, Butterfly, but my ego is damn pleased you enjoy having me this close.”

Sharp teeth nipped at my ear, and I gasped.

“I think I like you pressed against me a littletoomuch.” My cheeks heated with the realization that my scent was positively saturating the room.

“No such thing.”