Chapter 69
Rachel
“So why did you want to come to the shooting range?” Dante asked after signing us both in. I raised one shoulder in response, still glaring daggers at the stupid cunt who hadn’t let me in to begin with.
Apparently it was all a mix up. When I left and returned to America, Riley was doing his job as peacemaker and had sent my photo around to every place he thought I could use to my advantage or to help me get revenge. Which included the shooting range.
Fucking moron. If I wanted to shoot Dante, I didn’t need to become a bloody military grade shooter. All I would need to do is seduce him, bullet to the head. Done.
I wasn’t here for Dante. I was here because the next time someone pointed a gun at me—or worse, at my kids—I wanted to be ready.
“Rachel?” Dante said, nudging my shoulder with his. “You’re grinding your teeth again. And please stop throwing that poor man death glares. He was just doing his job.”
“Whatever,” I snapped, rolling my eyes. “Can we just go in, please?”
“Um, excuse me,” the same man called over. “I’m going to need you to get that temper under control. I can't let you in if I can't trust you not to—” his words were cut off with a yelp as Dante sighed and pulled a gun from his back pocket.
“Listen, mate, if she was in any danger of losing her temper with you, you’d be dead long before now. She doesn’t need a gun. Now can you just…” he gestured to the door with the gun and the man scrambled to his feet to unlock it, stepping way out of the way so we could get past.
“Are you going to answer me now?” Dante said, slamming the door shut behind us without so much as a thank you to the worker.
“I was bored.” I wasn’t going to repeat Greg’s words to him.
Because I knew Dante would react to them, and what Greg had said wasn’t wrong.
In fact, it just reaffirmed what I already knew.
I needed to take more notice of my surroundings, and I needed to be able to protect myself.
Especially if I was out with the kids. When the Riders had attacked me and Shark, I had been lucky the kids hadn’t been with me.
I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life relying on the good fortune of luck.
Luck was a fickle little bitch.
“You’re always bored. Last time you had nothing to do, you decided to knife every one of my pillows and stuff them with stink bombs.”
“That was Vienna’s idea…” I said with a small smirk. “And I just fancied a change of scene, that’s all.”
I walked over to the bench and grabbed a pair of ear defenders and goggles, and put them on, giving Dante a quick pose.
“Sexy,” he murmured.
“Good afternoon, folks. I’m your safety officer today—”
“Out,” Dante snapped, pointing the gun at the officer who had just walked through the door.
“I need to give you your debriefing—”
“Out! I won’t ask again,” he cocked the gun this time, sending the man scrambling out. “Let’s see what you’ve got, darlin’,” he grinned at me.
I walked over to the bench and picked up the gun, taking aim at one of the targets. I fired off a couple of rounds, and then turned to look at Dante’s response.
“Better than you used to be,” he said.
“Better than riding through the club grounds on the back of an enemy’s motorbike and aiming at anything in sight?” I said, reminding him of the war we had once been in.
“Yeah, that too. But,” he said, coming to stand behind me.
He pressed his front against my back and wrapped his arms around me, cupping my hands to help me steady the gun.
“If you aimed it like this, and took a deep breath,” he whispered in my ear.
I did as he commanded, my chest jutting forward as I inhaled deeply.
“Hold it for a second, and then shoot.”
I did, letting go of the trigger at the exact moment I released the breath.
“Better,” he murmured. “Now go again.”
I aimed the gun once more, only this time, Dante’s hands didn’t steady mine. They slipped under the bottom of my shirt, massaging the bare skin of my stomach.
“I don’t know what it says about me that I’m so fucking turned on to see you shooting that gun, Rachel. But my cock is hard as fucking rock. Show me what you’ve got, baby.”
How the fuck was I supposed to concentrate with that type of talk in my ear?
His voice was low and deep, his hands exploring my torso, veering dangerously close to my tits, my nipples already pebbling in anticipation.
I aimed the gun and took a deep breath, and he rewarded me with a kiss to my neck, sucking on the frantically beating pulse. My response was to fire God knows where, hitting the wall and not my target as my arm jerked, and he chuckled deep into the crook of my neck.
He removed one of his hands and I felt him reach for something, and then gasped as the cold metal of his own gun was against my skin. He ran the barrel up and down my side, still feathering kisses along my neck.
“Shoot again,” he demanded. “Relax your shoulders.”
“Easier said than done!” I snapped back on a shaky breath.
“Relax,” he murmured, reading my hesitation. “It’s not loaded. You think I’d risk anything happening to you?”
I was more thrilled at the thought that it could kill me.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
He stepped back and traced the gun down my spine before he grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head.
I shook my arms to toss the shirt to the floor, and then his front was against my back again.
I could feel the heat of him through his clothes, warming me even though I stood shivering.
He brought the gun to my chest, running it down the valley between my tits.
“Fire again. Unless you’re willing to admit you can’t?”
I fired again just to shut him up, and saw I had hit my target in the neck.
Dante moaned behind me, making my thighs clench. “You’d kill a man with a shot like that,” he whispered, lowering the gun over my stomach and then between my legs.
Fuck.
I tipped my head back as he circled the barrel of the gun over my pussy. And then, he brought it back up and pushed it down the waistband of my trousers and slipped it between my slick pussy lips.
I gasped as the cool metal made contact with my clit, the danger of what he was doing adding a thrill I hadn’t expected.
He removed the gun and then spun me around, scanning my face, checking that he hadn’t gone too far. I locked eyes with him as he pushed down my trousers and grabbed my ass, hauling me up until I was sitting on the bench.
“The safe word is ‘ceasefire’,” he told me, a sinister tone in his voice.
“Remember that, because you’re going to need it,” I said, a bubble of laughter rising at his confused look. I grabbed the gun and placed it at his temples. “You have five minutes to make me cum, or else I’m pulling the trigger. Consider it payment for leaving me wanting the other night.”
A smirk brightened his entire face. “Challenge accepted, darlin’,” he said, a split second before he dropped to his knees and buried his face between my legs.
My response was instant. Keeping the gun at his temples with one hand, I seized the back of his head with the other, pushing his face further into my pussy. I planted my feet on his shoulders and spread myself wide, giving him full and complete access.
Dante groaned into me like a starving man and flicked his tongue over my clit with slow, deliberate strokes. He wasn’t rushing. Cocky bastard was savouring it.
Testing me.
Teasing me.
“Four minutes,” I hissed, pressing the barrel harder against his temple.
His eyes lifted to mine, dark and gleaming, and then he doubled down. He sucked my clit between his lips and slipped two fingers inside me, curling them just right, hitting that spot like he knew . Like he’d mapped my body and burned the blueprints.
Fucking muscle memory. Even after all this time.
I dropped my head back with a moan, hips thrusting forward to meet every filthy thrust of his fingers. My thighs trembled around his head, and the sound I let out made my throat hoarse. It was raw. Animal. I both hated and loved him for making me feel it.
“Three minutes,” I gasped.
He growled against my cunt and shoved a third finger in, fucking me faster now, mouth relentless on my clit. My vision blurred. The pleasure was hot and messy and violent , like something was being torn out of me from the inside.
“Two minutes,” I whimpered, though I didn’t mean it. Didn’t want him to stop.
He pulled back just enough to growl, “Won’t need it,” before diving back in with brutal, punishing rhythm. He was going to make me scream. He knew it. I knew it.
And then, just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out of me and pushed his gun inside me instead.
Jesus…
My legs shook as a ferocious feeling rattled through me. The danger, the pleasure, the feeling of that fucking gun inside me. I was scared, I was thrilled, and I was about to come fucking undone.
He pulled the gun out and pushed it back inside relentlessly, shoving my body further up the bench. I looked down at him, his mouth working my clit, his tongue flicking over every tiny, sensitive nerve.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
And then—white-hot heat exploded behind my eyes. My legs snapped tight around his head. The scream ripped out of me, unbidden and loud, echoing through the shooting range.
“Dante!”
His name. Screamed. Just like he fucking said.
I sagged back onto my hands, my chest heaving.
My body was a wreck.
Wet, shaking, oversensitive.
But I kept the gun steady against his temple, even as I blinked down at him with a dazed smirk.
“Thirty seconds to spare,” I said.
He grinned, a sardonic smirk that told me he knew exactly how much time he had, and had pushed me to the limit deliberately. “Wasn’t worried.”
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, lips brushing where he’d just wrecked me. And then he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave me a once-over like he was memorising the sight of me ruined.
I turned toward the door without answering, still shaky on my feet. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d got to me. Not again.
Because once again, despite my resolve, he had me caving. I came here to shoot, and he had me coming.
I was a slave to my fucking desire, and I was sick of it.
But he followed close behind, brushing his fingers down my spine as we walked. “Next time you put a gun to my head, darlin’, make sure you’ve got something bigger than a grudge to back it up.”
I didn’t respond. Just pushed through the door and left him grinning like the arrogant, dangerous, addicting son of a bitch he was.
And the worst part?
I couldn’t stop smiling.