Chapter 23 #3
He moved his hand up Knox’s stomach and felt his inhale hitch against his palm. The reaction sent a thrill through him, a surge of satisfaction.
He knew he should step back, put some distance between them. Keep things professional. But he couldn’t seem to make himself let go, couldn’t resist the urge to explore further, to find each small response Knox couldn’t hide.
“Go again,” he murmured.
The third shot cracked. It landed high in the eight-ring, close enough that triumph flickered through him. He’d expected Knox to pick this up fast, had seen how quickly he absorbed new information, but watching it happen still pleased him.
“You keep drifting,” he said, letting his lips skim the rim of Knox’s ear. Heat sparked between them, a tremor moving through Knox that Dominic felt against his chest. “Keep your elbow relaxed and wrist locked.”
The next shot punched just slightly off-center. Knox exhaled on a shaky laugh, the sound drenched in adrenaline and something darker.
Dominic felt the ghost of a smile pull at his mouth. “That’s it,” he praised, the sound more possessive than he meant.
His hand drifted higher, skimming over Knox’s ribs, and he felt the shiver that ran through his frame. It was intoxicating, the way Knox responded to his touch, the way his body betrayed him even as he tried to maintain his composure.
Dominic knew he was playing with fire, crossing lines he shouldn’t even approach. But with Knox warm and pliant under his hands, and the heat building between them with every passing second, he found it harder and harder to care about the consequences. “One more,” he whispered.
Knox tried. He really did. Dominic could feel the effort in the tension of his shoulders, the way he pulled in a breath and tried to steady himself, but the round snapped wide. Not even close.
Dominic bit back a laugh. “Losing focus?”
“You’re distracting me, you ass,” Knox hissed. He tilted his head enough to look back at Dominic, blue eyes sparking with equal parts accusation and something else entirely.
A tangle of emotions lodged in Dominic’s chest: amusement, desire, affection. A dangerous combination he had no business feeling. “Next lesson,” he said, sliding his free hand down to Knox’s thigh and nudging it outward. “Control the distraction before it controls you.”
Knox’s answering breath was nearly a groan. “That—” He swallowed. “That isn’t helping.”
“It’s not meant to.” Dominic let the smallest smile pull at the corner of his mouth.
He’d already shoved past every sensible boundary he’d set for himself.
One more breath of recklessness wasn’t going to tip the scales.
He leaned in again, lips grazing Knox’s ear. “Focus, Wolfe. Pretend I’m not here.”
An incredulous laugh slipped out of Knox. “Impossible.”
“Try.”
Dominic eased back half an inch. Just enough room for Knox to move the way he needed. But he kept his palm flat over Knox’s stomach, fingers curving into muscle that flexed under his touch.
Knox drew a shaky breath and pulled the trigger. The shot went so wide it didn’t touch the silhouette.
Silence stretched a heartbeat.
Then Dominic laughed—a real one, sudden and unguarded, startling even himself.
Knox twisted in his hold, cheeks flushed, but the mortification lasted only a second before it crumpled into reluctant amusement. “Congratulations,” Knox said, lowering the pistol. “You’ve officially ruined my aim.”
Dominic’s chest still shook with the aftershock of it. It felt dangerous, like tasting a drug he’d had the sense to avoid for a long time, and discovering he liked it far too much.
Stop now.
He skimmed his knuckles beneath the hem of Knox’s shirt instead, enjoying the way the boy’s breath hitched at the contact.
“Maybe the problem isn’t your aim,” he murmured. “Maybe you just need a better example.”
Knox arched a brow, bravado creeping back into those ice-blue eyes. “Then show me, Rivera.”
The challenge lit Dominic’s blood. He didn’t reach for the rental.
If he was proving a point, he’d do it with the gun that felt like an extension of his hand.
He reached to the small of his back and drew his own pistol—sleek black steel, clean-lined, and perfectly balanced.
“Watch,” he said as he flicked the safety off with a click.
The range fell away until nothing existed except white silhouette and its dark heart.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Three shots, one obliterated center. He thumbed the safety back on and put it away.
“Show-off,” Knox said, but the grin that followed was pure admiration. The pleasure that rolled through Dominic at that look was immediate. He shouldn’t care what Knox thought, yet the spark in those eyes hit harder than the recoil.
He meant to look away, to pull the moment back to safer ground, but the stare caught him like a hook. The range, the targets, the spent casings on the floor—all of it slid out of focus until there was only that.
Walk away, some part of him ordered.
The command never reached his muscles. Every rule and every warning fell mute in the space between them, and there was only Knox.
He couldn’t look away.