Chapter 8 #3
He starts the bike and quickly drives off onto the campus road. His hand finds mine at the front of his leather jacket, and he clasps our fingers together. I hope it will be a long ride.
Unfortunately, it only lasts fifteen minutes.
He stops the bike outside what looks like an old sports hall.
He takes our helmets off and hooks them on the handles.
I wait for him to help me down, but instead of just giving me his hand, he puts both of them under my armpits and lifts me up.
My way down is slower than I expect as he slides me against his body, lingering when our noses touch.
We exchange one breath, before my feet touch the ground.
I hold on to him for a moment, needing time to overcome how everything he does, even the smallest gesture, feels so intense.
He gives me my clutch back, and we walk toward the building.
I try to read the sign over the discolored wooden entrance doors, but it’s too deteriorated.
I think it’s an archery range. I know Ezra is very skilled with arrows.
I’ve never seen him shoot one, but I’ve heard Lori and Rague talking about it.
Is he going to show off for me? The only image I have in mind of an archer is Robin Hood, and I always found him sort of ridiculous with the outdated clothes and weird pointy hat.
We stop at the front desk inside. We leave our jackets.
Ezra talks to the guy for a moment, and then we move to the shooting room.
It’s large and wide with ten round colorful targets lined on one side.
A sharp scent I can’t quite recognize is mixed with the smell of straw used for the targets.
We go to the designated area for bows, quivers, and the rest of the gear.
Ezra chooses a bow from the ones hanging on the wall.
The same guy from the front desk appears and gives it to him.
“See how it feels,” he says, passing it to me.
“What? Me?” Does he want me to use it?
He just stares.
“I’ve never used a bow before. I have a gun,” I let him know.
“What gun?”
I unzip the bag and hold it open so that he can get a look at it. Only looking doesn’t seem to satisfy him because he grabs it and takes it out. The range is deserted, even the guy who helped us disappeared, so I think we will be fine.
“A ninety-two series. Weighs less than a kilogram with an effective range of eighty meters,” he says, pointing it at a target. “Highly precise and lethal. The size and height are just perfect for you to use. Uri?”
I nod. “He taught me to shoot with Raph. I carry it with me when I leave campus.”
His jaw ticks for some reason. “I’ll give you a better one,” he says, sliding the gun in the back of his pants under the jacket.
“Hey, give it back!”
“Don’t need one when you’re with me,” he simply states, then he grabs the bow and quivers and moves toward one of the lanes.
I follow him, not understanding what is going on. Sometimes Ezra is a real conundrum.
He takes my bag and hands me the bow. “How is it? Too heavy for you?”
“No.” It’s not light since it’s made of some kind of metal and wood, but I can manage.
“You need to stay in the shooting line,” he instructs me.
The target is around ten yards away. “Take the arrow and place it on the arrow rest, yes, there. Snap the nock on the string directly under the nocking point, here.” He moves behind me and, covering my hand with his, he pulls the string back, hooking the back of the arrow on the string.
“You don’t need to stand completely sideways.
Hold your shoulders down, align your elbow with your wrist. And keep your beautiful eyes on the target,” he whispers the last phrase right in my ear, making my hand shiver so much that it lets go, and the arrow flies into one of the nets between the targets.
“Shit!” I grumble as he tuts.
“Try again.”
I position the arrow on the bow and try to focus, but the rich smell of pine and ash coming from him is distracting.
“Can you take a step back?” I ask without turning around.
“Never, Little Chick.” His lips brush the tip of my ear, which seems to be connected directly to my dick. “You need to tune out everything else.”
I huff. Like I could ever tune him out.
When I feel his hand on my ass, I snap, “Stop teasing me.” But I can’t stifle the smile on my face. My mega-handsome boyfriend can’t keep his hands off me while teaching me his favorite…killing technique. Why wouldn’t I be happy?
Instead of backing off, he pushes his groin against my ass. “Once the tip of the arrow lines with the target, let go of the bowstring.”
I hear a creak, the tension sound coming from the bow as I pull the - back and release. It spears the air fast and then pierces the lower edge of the target.
“I hit it!” I jump in the air, filled with joy as I look at the arrow.
I turn toward Ezra and in the midst of the excitement, wrap one arm around his neck and climb him to stamp a kiss on his mouth—at least that was my intention.
What really happens is I hit his nose and chin with my face, making us both jerk back.
Thankfully Ezra’s arms curl around my back and butt, saving me from falling.
Not in the least discouraged by my over excitement he finds my lips and gives me what I want.
“You did.” His eyes are sparkling when he pulls back. Gods, but I’m lucky.
“This is fun!” I exclaim, and as he lets me down I take another arrow just to let it drop on the floor. I pick it up, but when I straighten up, the bow is between my legs and I almost trip over it. Ezra catches me from behind, helping me to avoid yet another fall.
He starts talking like my ungraceful move never happened. “Try to keep your breaths as low as possible this time. Even if a butterfly sits on your nose, you won’t lose focus.”
I nod. Concentration is key. The next arrow is too high. Ezra is very patient, though, and he keeps talking to me in a calm tone.
“I love this,” I confess, lowering the bow to my side. “Even though I’m shit at it.”
His eyes search my face as his hands fall on my hips. “Archery takes time.”
“No. What I love is you teaching me something. I’ve never had that, you know, someone taking their time with me.
I don’t know if anyone told you, but my situation at home was not the best.” A bitter laugh leaves my lips.
“Oliver tried, but he was just a kid, and he spent most of his time working and protecting me from my father. He was a horrible man, with a rotten soul.” I didn’t let the resentment toward him fester and turn into an even darker feeling.
I just buried my anger with him the day he died.
His hands squeeze my hips. “I know everything already.”
“You do? Well, it’s frustrating since I don’t know much about you.”
He seems to ponder my words. “My father killed my mother and then committed suicide when we were kids. After that, we moved in with our uncle. He sold us to be part of the experimental project a few months later. After I escaped, I tracked him down and killed him.”
Some people would be horrified by his confession.
I feel that same horror, but only toward the injustice he suffered and his uncle.
His death by Ezra’s hand doesn’t affect me.
He deserved it, some people really do, because when true evil corrupts your soul the only way to go is down.
I don’t think I’d ever be capable of taking a life, but I understand it’s necessary sometimes.
I give him another kiss, letting my lips linger against his as I whisper a thank you. I know he doesn’t usually open up, and it makes me feel special the way he tries.
The next arrow goes closer to the center of the target. And I keep shooting until I get it. Bullseye. I celebrate with a little dance, accidentally shaking my booty against Ezra’s dick. He answers with a bite on my neck that makes me almost moan.
My arm is aching now, after all the shooting. So I gave him the bow and the last arrow. “Show me how it is done.”
“Alright.” His lips twitch, but as soon as he aligns himself with the target, I have a glimpse into Ezra the assassin. Menacing, striking, dangerous, and sexy as fuck. He exudes danger and mystery, fire and ice. Fuck Robin Hood, he’s got nothing, absolutely nothing on him.
The muscles on his shoulders bulge and flex as he moves his arm back, his strong fingers are steady, eyes unblinking. I’m doing my best to tame my tingling, aroused body while I can’t take my eyes off him.
He’s about to shoot when his gaze turns to me, he shifts the bow to the left, and shoots. The arrow hits the farthest target across the room, right in the center.
My jaw drops, and my eyes keep going from his arrow to his smiling face. I think I know what Lori means when he talks about ovary explosions. Ezra leaves the bow on the counter and comes back to me, while I’m still standing here.
“Wow.” It’s the only word I can utter.
He kisses my nose. “Hold on to your glasses.”
Before I can ask why, I’m thrown over his shoulder and taken to the front desk, where he grabs our jackets and then resumes his walk.
Only when we reach his motorbike does he put me down, ass on the seat.
My head feels a little dizzy as he slides his big body between my legs, spreading them almost to the maximum.
He puts the coat on me, gives me my bag and wears his jacket.
It’s a little colder outside, but the fire he started inside me is still going.
“We will grab a bite to eat next, and then I’ll take you home and fuck your ass until my balls are empty.” He slaps my thigh and then turns my visibly trembling body face forward. This man has such a way with filthy words.
He’s about to mount in front of me when I scream, “Wait!” Flattening my hand on his chest to prevent him from sitting, while the other hovers over the bike seat where a small ladybug has landed.
I move my finger near it, urging it to climb on, but the little beetle changes direction. So I try again.