Chapter 26 - Gavril
How was this possible? I had meant to be firm, even ruthless, with Lilia. But instead, I ended up leading her toward my soundproofed shooting range at the back of the property. She followed eagerly, too excited to do more than quickly rinse the dust off of her and change into clean clothes.
I turned around to see her marveling at the small orange grove between the house and the shooting range. The leaves were waxy, dark green, tiny buds on the verge of blooming into the white flowers that scented the air in spring.
“Southern California real estate is among the most expensive in the US,” she stated, reaching up to pull down one of the branches, then letting it spring back up. “You must have acres and acres. I didn’t even think it was possible in this area to have so much land.”
Why did I swell with pride? “It was several different properties that I combined into one,” I told her. “It took a lot of wrangling for permits and a hell of a lot of money to get it all the way I wanted it over the past year.”
“I keep forgetting you haven’t been here much longer than me,” she said, waiting while I unlocked the doors of the shooting range. “Don’t you ever miss Russia?”
“Don’t you?” I asked, instead of answering. The only thing I missed was the relative ease of my existence compared to here in LA, but she might have taken it personally if I said that.
“Not since Varvara’s been cooking for me,” she said with a grin, as if she hadn’t just been dragged back from another escape attempt. As if she never stuck a knife in my guard’s side.
And I was acting as if neither of those things had happened, and we were enjoying the day as if we never gotten into that argument about her job only a few hours ago.
How was it possible? She was a far cry from the trembling mess I rescued from that auction stage.
The interior of the range was quiet and dark, and I snapped on the bright, overhead lights to reveal the targets at the far end of the building. A cache of guns was stored out here, not just for training and practice, but it never hurt to always have a weapon handy.
Lilia listened raptly as I pointed out the parts of several types of weapons, taught her how to check that they were loaded, how to load them, and finally told her she could grab a pair of sound-dampening headphones and safety goggles.
She seemed disappointed that she didn’t get to immediately start out with a semi-automatic, and frowned at the small handgun I chose for her.
“The bullets kill all the same,” I said, standing behind her to help her aim.
She leaned back, nestling her soft little ass against me. I didn’t hold back a groan, and even with her headphones on, I swore there was a hint of a smile on her face as she gave one more wiggle before she was ready to aim.
Her first shot went high, then she stopped fooling around, trying to drive me wild. The next couple hit the target, and after a while, she was doing some respectable shooting.
“That would have seriously taken someone out of the fight for a while,” I said when I pushed the button to pull the target up to us. “That would probably be a kill shot, but you know it was lucky, because I could tell you were aiming lower on this one.”
She looked frustrated, but running her fingers over the holes in the paper target drained the color out of her face. “A kill shot,” she repeated, swallowing hard.
“Do you want to continue?” I asked briskly, in coach mode, even though I wanted to reassure her that as long as I was around, she’d never have to make such choices that might involve taking another person’s life.
“I think so,” she said. “I like shooting the gun, but the thought…” she sighed. “I don’t know, forget it. I was never cut out for this anyway.”
I didn’t like the hopeless tone, the rounding of her shoulders. Placing the gun aside, I turned her to face me. “There’s nothing weak about your lack of interest in crime or violence, Lilia,” I said firmly. “Your personality traits aren’t flaws. The things you enjoy aren’t a waste of time.”
She looked shocked to hear something like that come out of my mouth, especially since I had argued for the opposite during some of our movie nights. But I was telling the truth now and spitting mad about how she must have felt ostracized for her differences, growing up among ruthless killers.
“If anyone ever made you feel otherwise, they were wrong,” I said.
Her face changed instantly. “No one did,” she said, loyal as ever to her family. “No one was ever anything but supportive.” The way her eyes drifted back in time, and the wistful twist of her lips, told me that wasn’t strictly true, but she’d go down defending them.
“I admire your loyalty,” I said, wishing it was toward me, but having too much pride to tell her such a thing.
“Your whole family’s loyalty,” I admitted begrudgingly.
“As much as they’re a force I have to dismantle, there’s no way I can’t respect the way they run things.
” If only the Los Angeles Collective could take some notes.
Her smile turned into a frown at the slip that I was working on dismantling her family, but she smiled again. Nothing she didn’t already know.
“Hmph,” she said, leaning back enticingly against the counter. “Except for that one thing, I suppose there’s not so much wrong with you, either.”
My shock almost had me staggering backward. “You may as well admit we’re not different,” I teased. “We’re basically the same person.”
This made her laugh, and I joined in, my eyes roaming down the front of the clean t-shirt she put on. The jaunty way she leaned against the counter made it pull against her lush curves, and it was hard to bring my gaze back up when she spoke again.
“I might admit it if you ever read a single thing that’s not some kind of business report.” She waved her arm at the gun and the target full of bullet holes. “After all, look at how much I’ve changed. Shooting at things. And you still owe me stabbing lessons.”
Hearing the words ‘stabbing lesson’ out of her sweet and previously timid mouth had me laughing again. I reached for her and tugged her close. Her hands landed against my chest, and she tipped her head back to keep looking at me.
“You’ll get your stabbing lessons,” I promised, yanking her closer.
She gasped as my burgeoning hard-on met her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she licked her lips. It felt like an eternity since the last time I kissed her, and we had parted so angry at one another, I wondered if I ever would again.
Now her lips melted against mine as she stood on her toes at the same time, I dipped my head to claim her mouth. “More,” she whispered as my hands slid down her back.
I soon realized she meant more shooting, finally pulling away to smile up at me. “Every shot is going to be a kill shot this round,” she said.
I had created a monster. With a groan, I got back to business, coaching her and guiding her arm when a shot went astray. Three more paper targets later, she had managed to aim every bullet at the head or the heart.
“I think you might be a natural,” I said.
Her face glowed, not just with the concentration she’d been using to get every shot right, but with pride. Mine must have looked very much the same. We stared at one another for a second after she set her firearm aside, then she threw her arms around my neck.
“Thank you,” she said, her breath warm against my ear.
“Is that the only reason you’re holding onto me?” I asked gruffly, my hands resting loosely at her sides. “Or are you teasing me again?”
“I don’t tease,” she said, all dignity as her feet dangled off the floor while she clung to me.
“Then you must want more of this now.” Wrapping my arms fully around her, I dragged her flush against my already swelling cock.
Watching her slowly gain confidence and quickly excel at shooting was hot. Very hot. Just like the feel of her, so close. Where she belonged. Any hint of anger that might have lingered from the meeting, or frustration that she’d once again tried to escape, was gone.
It didn’t seem possible that the same woman could both cause all my troubles and then so easily erase them with only a soft sigh against my lips.
At the same time she sliced her fingers through my hair, I reached for her ponytail, tugging her head back so I could kiss my way down her throat. This morning seemed like a year ago, like I had never tasted her at all.
“I don’t know about this,” she murmured as I backed her against the counter.
When I lifted her, she wrapped her legs around me, tilting back so I could keep kissing lower. She shifted her hips back and forth, up and down, the heat of her making me growl against her soft flesh.
“You’re right,” I said, looking around at the range. It was utilitarian, ugly, and harshly lit. There wasn’t a soft surface in sight, and the only chairs were hard plastic, shoved up around a square metal table where my men and I could clean our weapons.
My Lilia was too beautiful and too soft for this place. I’d already taken her virginity on a wrestling mat in the gym. Lifting her up, I carried her outside and into the orange grove, where grass grew between the trees.
She sighed when I lay her down, the last of the sun filtering through the leaves swaying in a gentle breeze. She was bathed in golden light, like an angel who somehow got lost and decided to rest for a while here on earth.
Oh God, her movies were starting to rub off on me. Well, she did say I had a poetic nature despite never cracking a single poetry book. And when she reached for me, the devilish look in her bright blue eyes reminded me this woman was no angel. Not by a long shot.
But she was still mine, all mine.
I knelt beside her, brushing some wayward strands of hair out of her face. She grabbed my shirt and tugged me down on top of her, once again wrapping her legs around me. Shifting her hips beneath me, she ground against my stiff cock, moaning for more.
And this time she wasn’t talking about shooting.