Chapter 24 Target Practice #3
“Does this ruse usually work for you?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.
His body morphed around hers. The nearness of him not only blurred her vision but also the lines of places she didn’t want to cross.
Especially with Mikko. He was close enough that she could feel his heart steadily beating against her upper back.
His height dwarfed her frame, an uncanny feeling considering she was on the taller side.
“What?”
He was too close—
“Teaching women to shoot all while feeling them up? Accusing them?”
Now he really laughed, the sound low and bright amidst the gloom of the range.
“Every single one of my touches has been professional and only to enhance your posture.” He was incorrect, but as her tongue formulated a scathing response, he spoke again.
“Besides, malyshka, you’d know the difference between these touches”—his right hand left its resting place at her waist and slowly trailed up over her ribs again before faintly tracing the underside of her breast, making her forget to ask what that accented word meant—“and these.”
Higher and higher he went, his fingers deftly grazing over her collar bones. Anika was swept into his spell. Maybe this was how he got everyone to fall into place within his world. Maybe she was just as stupid as all those who came before her.
Fuck.
With his breath tickling the flyaway hairs lingering near her temple, Anika lost her will to focus.
The sounds of gunfire and people in neighboring booths faded out, replaced only with the dull thrum of her blood rushing through her ears.
Her mouth dried up as he circled her shoulder before his finger slipped between her shoulder blades and traced the divot of her spine once more. It was simple, yet too much.
“Along with these touches,” he lilted, his voice deep and wicked. The faint sweep of his lips across the nape of her neck had warmth pooling between her legs.
I should’ve fucked someone before this, she internally chided. Now, I can’t tell if I’m horny or…
Or what? Enjoying herself? Fuck that.
Down, down, down he went until she couldn’t tell if this was another cruel dream or reality. Until she realized her brain had free will, she could tell him to stop, and yet…she didn’t. In all honesty, she wanted him to keep going. It’d been so long since she’d been teased and touched properly.
“I believe you owe me an apology, Anika.”
“Do I?” A breathy response, but she hoped both of their ear muffs prevented him from realizing.
His hand hovered between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her cargo pants, a sinful promise waiting to be accepted. His finger hooked onto her pants. “Mhmm, for saying you’d shoot me.”
She audibly swallowed. “I was…joking.”
Mikko leisurely traced the outline of her waistband. “Were you?”
Her mouth popped open, “no” sitting right there on her tongue when he stopped momentarily. Anika’s knees trembled, both from adrenaline and fatigue.
“I think we should play a little game,” he said, “and maybe we can say all is forgiven, hm?”
“I hate games,” she murmured.
His response came too quick, too close. “Too bad.” His finger notched up her spine as his mouth softly pressed against her skin above her shirt collar. Goosebumps erupted in his wake. “For every number I say, you shoot. If you get five head shots, we stop. If not, well…”
She’d be forced to go on forever no doubt. Fuck him and his games. “Deal.”
“Good girl,” he praised, and the throbbing between her legs responded to those two little words. “L 3.” It was the only signal she got, but she fired nonetheless.
Bang!
This time, it hit the target, remarkably. It wasn’t a head shot, but she could settle into this new norm, make it a routine.
“Close, but not good enough”—he began the ascent on her spine—“Th 11.”
Another shot; this one clipped the jaw of the silhouette on the paper. Anika yearned to press her thighs together, to relieve the pressure building in her core, but Mikko’s feet ensured her stance didn’t waver.
“I’m feeling nice,” he said, “I’ll count that one.” Up, up, up he went. “Th 7.”
Anika exhaled, then—
Bang!
She let another round lose, desperately trying to keep still, but her arms were shaking with weariness, and her body was quivering from Mikko’s mixed signals.
“There’s two, look at you go.” His fingers steadily slipped into another divot of her spine, the next vertebrae already falling from his lips. “Th 3.”
“I hope you remember this next time you break into my house,” Anika gritted out before shooting again. It was another chest shot, her progress taking a step backward while her underwear dampened. He rhythmically tapped on one single vertebrae.
“I will, but I also know where you keep this little gun,” he countered. “Th 1.”
Barely having enough time for her rebuttal, she chose to shut up and concentrate instead.
Clink!
The shell casing bounced off the floor near her feet, but all she could see was a third head shot. “Impressive. Two more to go. C 7.”
Another shot echoed around them. Mikko’s fingertip climbed causing her clit to throb in time with his touch.
“C 5.” The feeling of his finger resting right below the nape of her neck drove her insane. She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Bang!
A miss. This one didn’t even land within the outline, the stray hole a painful outlier amongst the rest of her shots.
“Last chance,” Mikko said, his tone unwavering despite the tension rolling off them, thick and suffocating.
“Or what—”
His hand wrapped itself around her ponytail threateningly. “C 2.”
I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…
In order for her to find peace, her past would have to be avenged. And to do that, she needed to take down those who she couldn’t protect herself and her family from all those years ago.
Her eyes aligned with her gun’s sight, leveling it to match up with the center of the target’s faux head. The trigger was already crooked against her finger, all she had to do was focus. Squeeze—
Bang!
And there, right in the middle of the head—right where she’d aimed—was a small hole. Never in her life would she have imagined making that, especially with Mikko’s presence behind her.
He huffed incredulously before giving her ponytail a slight tug. It sent electricity zipping down her spine. “Seems like distractions work in your favor.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she responded before lowering the gun. Her arms ached and her shoulders creaked as she tried to shake the tension out. But now that her thighs could touch again, she couldn’t ignore the feeling of her jean’s seam rubbing just ri—
“Who said I was?”
Shaking her head, she unloaded the clip from the handgun when his hands stilled hers. “We’re not done here.”
“What do you mean?” Anika glanced up at him over her shoulder. “I did what you asked, your services are no longer needed, professor.”
And if I stay here any longer, a morning with my vibrator isn’t going to cut it…
His eyes were shadowed from his hat, but they darkened at the nickname. “One good shot doesn’t make you a master. Do it again.”
“As much as I’d love to, I need to get home so I can shower and go to work. Not everyone can be rich like you and play pretend in an office.”
“Take the day off.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Now why would I do that?”
A beat of silence passed between them as he assessed her. “You look tired.”
Her heart stopped. “How nice of you to notice, but in reality I’m tired of you, so if you don’t mind…”
She went to step around him, but he refused to move.
“Practice makes perfect, malyshka.”
Running her tongue over her teeth, Anika composed her thoughts. “I agree, which is why I come here every week. Which is why I don’t need you to teach me. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
He finally let her move past, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t decipher in the brief moment they shared. It made the arousal pooling in her underwear painfully evident.
I’m so fucked.
She was relieved he finally listened and stepped out of her space. It was getting hard to breathe, and her heart was thudding painfully against her insides.
“I hope you had fun with my lotions at least,” she sneered, unable to resist one last dig.
He stiffened, and she swore his face reddened beneath his hat slightly, but, “I’ll see you around,” was all he said before grabbing his bag and striding away. She watched him set up a few lanes down from her.
Guilty conscience much?
Before she could think any longer on it, she packed up her own things. Work did start in a couple hours and she couldn’t be late, weird gun range interactions or not.
Determined not to be cornered by him again, she quickly walked out so she could return the equipment she’d rented. The man behind the counter was smiling while she signed out. “It’s not every day the owner of the range gives you a private lesson.”
“What?” her brain was already hazy from Mikko.
“Romanov, the man helping you shoot, he owns the range. He usually keeps to himself, coming in early or late, but this is the first time in a while I’ve seen him practice with someone else.”
No shit. “Uh, yeah…well, that was gracious of him.”
“Truly, does my old heart good to see him come out of his shell occasionally.” The man seemed genuine, his eyes glistening with kindness.
Had Mikko paid this man to act? She wouldn’t doubt it, but her intuition said differently.
Not only did Mikko own this range—because of course he did—but it wasn’t often that he was vulnerable here. Why share that moment with her?
Mind games. He had to be playing mind games.
“He should do it more often,” she started, setting the pen back atop the sign out sheet, “he’s a good teacher.” It pained her to say it, but it was either that or explain to the older gentleman that Mikko and her were playing a game transcending all normal societal standards.
“I’ll let him know you said that.”
With a nod, Anika shakily made her way to her car. After the night she’d had, the gun range was supposed to clear her head and affirm her actions, but it looked like the opposite was happening.
In the end, it didn’t matter. She’d made promises, had set goals for herself, and she’d be damned if she didn’t follow through. One bullet at a time would get her closer to the control she craved no matter how much her subconscious hesitated.
Being useless wasn’t an option anymore.