Chapter 15
Elijah
Ultimately, the argument over her attire just wasn’t worth it.
Besides, she does kind of have a point. An attacker isn’t exactly going to give her time to swap her heels for a pair of Converse.
Plus, it’s pretty impressive how well she moves in those things and.
..well, they’re undeniably hot. I especially like the skirts when she throws her leg over the back of my bike, and I glimpse her pretty underthings that she makes no attempt to hide.
And I’ve never seen someone so impervious to helmet hair.
She’s confident. Absolutely beautiful and fully aware of that fact.
There’s absolutely no doubt that she’s aware of the effect she has on people.
Not just men, but people. She has this way about her.
People see her and inevitably look for an opening to talk to her.
She’s magnetic. This is my excuse for why my hands have been drawn to her all day.
Her hands, her hair, her hips, hell, even her feet.
She has the most beautiful, delicate little feet I’ve ever seen.
Last night in the pool, I made it clear that we’re in a relationship.
Vaughn made it clear that kissing and touching are both accepted behaviors, so I no longer practice the painful art of honorable distancing. So far, no complaints.
I have my hand on her hip as we walk into the shooting range. It’s important that everyone knows where this girl goes, I follow.
“Eli.” A middle-aged man with a thick Texan accent calls to me from behind the front desk.
All the regulars here know me by name. This guy, in particular, has known me since I was old enough to come in without an adult. He’s looking back and forth between Vaughn and me. I’ve never brought a woman in here. Abe and I...well, she’s the first woman that’s clearly been MINE.
“Hey, Dennis. Got us a couple lanes ready?”
“Ah, yeah. Sixteen and seventeen are ready to go.”
Heads turn as Vaughn’s heels click all the way back to our lanes, and I feel their continued stares on our backs as we pass. I’m tempted to ask them if there’s something I can help them with, but it’s probably best that Vaughn doesn’t see that side of me just yet.
I set the large black gun case on the counter in lane sixteen. This is Vaughn’s lane. We may only need the one, but I reserved two just in case. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in the small armory I’ve been carrying. Inside the case are four handguns and four clips.
“Are we practicing? Or have we decided to take on city officials in an impromptu hostile takeover?”
My low chuckle reverberates in the small space.
“You can never be too prepared. Choose your weapon.”
Vaughn steps closer, examining the selections.
There’s a gleam in her eyes. She’s excited.
This is a first for her. A first for us.
How many more of these firsts can I squeeze into a lifetime?
A lifetime. Or however long I can keep her, anyway.
Guys like me don’t get old. I wonder what an older Vaughn will look like.
Will she still spit the same venom? Or more? Undoubtedly, more.
“This one.”
The Desert Eagle. Not bad. Not bad at all.
“Pull it out. Get a feel for the grip.”
The next few minutes are spent explaining range etiquette and the qualities of a proper stance.
This means I get to touch her. Touching her is my favorite thing.
Keeping both hands firmly on her hips, I slide one foot between hers and push her heel-clad feet, shoulder-width apart.
Widening her stance. The act of moving her legs open wider does something to me.
Everything about this girl does something to me.
Placing my hands on her shoulders, I pull them back toward me and square her up with the target.
My hands slowly slide down her arms, and I feel her begin to melt into my hold.
“Easy there, Little Devil. Body alignment, remember?”
Suddenly, her body jolts back into the correct form. She hadn’t realized what she was doing. I did. Loved every second of it. It tells me that I’m not the only one fighting to rein it in.
“Like this.” My hands are covering her smaller ones on the gun. “Use this notch here to aim.”
“Eli, I had no idea you were giving private lessons.” The thick Southern twang in octave sugary sweetness comes just before a dainty hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me to turn toward her.
“How do I get myself on the schedule, honey?”
Turning, I come face to face with the owner’s daughter, Gemma.
“Gemma, hi. How are you?” My voice is awkward even to my own ears, but her touch feels...wrong.
“I’m great. Just here helping daddy out with some of the insurance stuff.” Her words are so drawn out, I’m not sure how much of her Southern accent is real and how much of it is put on.
Gemma’s eyes flit to Vaughn and widen the slightest bit. Gemma is a pretty girl. Beautiful, possibly. Still, she’s no Vaughn Webb. There’s only one of those.
I put my hands back on Vaughn’s hips and move her to my front, using her like a shield.
“Gemma, this is Vaughn. Vaughn, Gemma.”
“Nice to meet you, Gemma.” If Vaughn is bothered by Gemma’s close proximity, she doesn’t let on.
Gemma’s eyes narrow, and her smile is faker than her accent when she says “Pleasure. Anywho Eli, how do I get on your training schedule? I’d love to learn from a pro like you.
Ever record in here has one Washington or the other listed on top.
” Gemma’s flirty tone, hair twirling, and lip biting are so painfully obvious.
Her eyes have flitted down to my hands on Vaughn’s hips several times.
She knows this isn’t a shooting lesson, and it’s clear that she doesn’t mind disrespecting Vaughn. I just can’t have that.
“Oh. Sorry, Gemma. This isn’t a private lesson. I belong to Vaughn here. All requests on my time have to go through her.”
Vaughn’s body stiffens briefly in my hands before melting fully into me. The back of her head hits my chest, and she says, “Sorry, Emma. I’m afraid I don’t share. Nice meeting you...sugar.”
There’s the venom. I liked it before, but when it’s used in possession of my time and of me...I love it. I lean down and kiss her neck before running my nose up to her ear.
“Ready to get back to it? I already need to get you home and out of these heels.”
She leans into me. “I thought you like the heels.”
“Hmmm. Maybe we can keep the heels.”
We’re carrying on as though Gemma isn’t standing there, fuming over our behavior. Honestly, I think she’s more pissed that Vaughn called her Emma than anything else. She may not even realize it was intentional. I do, and I love it.
Without pulling my face away from Vaughn’s neck, I address Gemma again.
“It was good seeing you, Gemma. We better get back to it. We have to finish before lunch. My girl isn’t the same when she’s hungry. Vaughn’s giggle reaches my ears at the same time that she pushes her body firmly into mine, and I let her guide me back into our stall.
We don’t turn back to witness Gemma’s retreat, but I feel the animosity rolling off her in waves as the distance grows between us.
Vaughn is a...decent shot. She’ll get better. I know this because she can’t get worse. Fortunately, the venom is still pinpoint accurate and as lethal as the woman who wields it.