“Is the third rule to always do what you say?” I tease, before catching myself.
His brows knit together. “What the fuck are you talking about? The third rule is to never rest your finger on the trigger. Do you want to learn or not?”
“Yes, sorry.”
Outlaw goes over the basics. Figuring out my dominant eye and then the different parts of the gun while I do my best to follow along. Then he gets right up behind me. His arms come around so he can show me how to hold the gun with both hands. The grip is thick, obviously made for someone with hands like his, not mine. “Hold it like this. Yeah. You don't really use your thumbs, but try to squeeze between your index finger and your palm. Keep it as steady as you can.”
He has me get into a staggered stance, shows me how to hold it, bracing my grip so I don't lose control, and to hold it so it doesn't twist when I pull the trigger. With every new position, he guides me with his hands, on my wrists, on my upper arms, on my hips. His hand brushes over the front of my shirt, and of course it's right across the nipple, which comes alive with a tingle that shivers its way through me all the way down to my toes. I need to focus, but there’s something sexy about a man who's obviously very skilled at something, and is giving you his full attention while teaching you.
There's so much more to firing a gun than I realized. The movies make it look like it's all point and click. But finally, he sets up a few differently sized rocks on the larger one we’ve been usingas a table, and has us move about 10 yards away. He positions us with his chest flush with my back and his arms right along my arms and steadying them. Is it me, or can I feel his heart beating?
“Just close your left eye, align the sights and pull the trigger,” he says, his no-nonsense voice right in my ear. His breath hot on my neck. I swallow thickly and squeeze the trigger.
The hammer slams home loud enough to make me jump, even without being loaded. I don't know why I expected a big explosion. Maybe all the anticipation is making me skittish.
“Good. Do it again.” He repositions my wrists just a little. “Right there.”
His choice of words makes me think of Shadow ordering me to take him in my mouth last night. This might be easier if Outlaw’s voice didn’t make me feel like we’re doing something way dirtier than we are. Especially when he's wrapped around me like this.
I pull the trigger two more times, without jumping this time. Click click. I actually feel a little proud when he grunts in approval.
“Alright, I'm gonna load the gun. Remember the rules?”
I nod. “Always treat a gun like it's loaded. Don’t point at anything I don’t want to shoot. Don’t rest my finger on the trigger.” I kinda think he’d approve of Shadow’s third rule, too, but I’m not going to bring it up again.
He pulls the pistol from my fingers and slips the magazine in with an ominous click. Then I get it back in my hands.
“It's heavier.”
“Full mag, of course it is.” He wraps his warm hands around mine, giving me support. “Take your time. Aim at the biggest rock like I showed you.”
“Okay,” I say, so incredibly nervous. I know it's going to make a lot of noise this time and kick back at me. Only his steady grip calms me.
“Draw a deep breath, hold it and flex your core and shoulders, make yourself as stable as you can. Then pull the trigger.” His voice is right in my ear.
I do my best and when I think I'm ready, I put my index finger in and squeeze.
The gun explodes. Even knowing what to expect, I still scream in surprise. “Did I hit it?”
He laughs. “No, but I’ve seen worse first shots. Let’s try that again.”
Outlaw supports my hands again, and this time I brace better, remembering the power of the gun from the last time. I promise myself not to scream this time as I aim down the sights. Then I squeeze.
This time when the gun barks, at least I see where the bullet hits. It wasn’t the rock I was aiming at, but I’m getting closer. Next time for sure. With a smaller gun, I think this would be way easier. It’s actually a little fun. “Okay, let me try on my own.”
Outlaw doesn't say anything for a moment, but then he backs up a step, letting me go. “Okay.” He sounds a little uncertain, but lets me try.
Determined, I get into the stance as he's shown me, aim right down the barrel, and pull. The rocknextto the one I was aimingat shoots off into the distance with a loud crack. “Did you see that?” I won't win any shooting contests anytime soon, but at least I can fire the gun without losing complete control now. I spin around with a huge grin on my face.
Before I can react, he's on me, grabbing my wrist and forcing it down so the gun points at the ground. He has me disarmed in no time. “Always fucking treat the gun like it's fucking loaded!” he yells, then his face twists in pain and he looks like he’s about to be sick.
“I—I'm sorry. I wasn’t thinking…” I mean, he's right, I should've been more careful with the gun, but I wasn't prepared for him to explode like that. “Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down?”
“Just go back to the others and don’t cause trouble,” he snarls, hand on his side and walks away, leaning to favor his injured side.
“Outlaw!” I yell at him. “I'm sorry. It was a mistake.”
“It’s fine,” he growls, not even looking my way. “Go tell Shadow to bring me my shit.”