Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(102)
Afraid was mild to what I was feeling.
“It’s unloaded. Take it. See?” He pulled the top back and showed me an empty cavity. “Chamber is empty.”
It still looked dangerous.
“You ever fire a gun before?”
I shook my head so hard I was afraid I might shoot myself accidentally just by holding it in my palm. “I’ve pulled plenty of slugs out of people though.”
He stared down at me for the longest time while I fought my budding anxiety. “You want to learn?”
Did I? I’d thought about shooting plenty of people over the course of my life but that was always in the hypothetical daydream sense, not the actual pull the trigger sense.
Adam set the gun down on his nightstand and then took me by the hands, pulling me up. He worked his arms around me. “I think step one in learning to trust me starts now.” He tipped my chin up and gave me a very sweet kiss.
I spent the next half hour musing about him being mostly naked while watching him buzz around his house packing for our next adventure.
“BREATHE OUT,” ADAM whispered into my ear. “Then squeeze.”
It was difficult to ignore his instructions; they affected my entire body, setting every one of my nerves on a heightened level of awareness.
His arms were supporting mine, holding them up to help me aim while giving me his patience and expertise. I’d listened carefully when he had demonstrated how I should stand, how I shouldn’t fear the cold steal gripped in my hands. I knew my fears were unfounded, based solely on seeing the aftermath of what a bullet could do to the human body. Still, I needed to do this.
Every move Adam made was executed with commanding precision, adding a new level of sex appeal that I hadn’t been quite aware of before. How he was completely at ease with a lethal weapon in his hand, making him appear even more foreboding, was also a sight to be appreciated.
His hips shift as he widened my stance; the hard wall of his chest pressed into my back and braced me as I tried not to outwardly tremble.
It was important to Adam to make me feel safe and “empowered” as he emphatically stated in his truck on the way here, and seeing this additional glimpse at how enthralled he was bringing me to the indoor range where he trained was infectious.
“Use the dots, line up your sights first.” He adjusted my arms higher. “Remember; bring the gun up level to your eyes, not your eyes down to the gun.”
It was nearly impossible to concentrate while feeling the stiff ridge of his pants brushing the seam of my ass. “It’s hard.”
“No it isn’t,” he quickly admonished, missing my point but brushing his against my butt again. “Don’t doubt yourself. We’ve gone over the mechanics. You know how to load and unload it and work the slide.”
My inner dirty girl was having a field day with this. “That’s not what I meant. Well, not completely.”
“Adjust your grip. You’re squeezing too tight. Relax your fingers, babe. That’s better. Nice and easy. This finger stays on the trigger.”
The size of the gun alone was making me nervous. His lips mere centimeters from my neck was even worse. His partial erection brushing my ass was making concentration damn near impossible. “I still think I should start out with a smaller gun.”
“It fits you perfectly.”
I wasn’t sure we if we were even talking about firearms anymore. I rested into the reassuring safety of his chest again, enjoying the many freedoms that came along with being intimately familiar with someone. Innocent contact wasn’t so innocent anymore, but more of an inalienable right. I brushed my butt over his package once more just because I could.
He sucked in a quick breath, followed by a throat-clearing groan and a reciprocating press into me. “You have seven rounds in the magazine so when you’re ready you’ll chamber it and aim just like I’ve shown you. When you’re ready.” He let me go and pulled the headset up off his neck and placed them over his ears. I was on my own with Adam in full-blown teacher mode.
I was glad that the only other guy inside the range left so we had the entire place to ourselves. I felt awkward at first, like I should have had prior gun knowledge before stepping foot in this place.
The black circles on the paper human target were just twenty feet away, but felt looming nonetheless.
Adam folded his arms across his chest and gave me an encouraging nod, like an overindulging parent.
I tried to focus, aim, and breathe, while the only sound I could hear under my headset was the constant thrum of my own heartbeat.
“Doc.”
I looked over at him, instantly reacting as if he’d called out my real first name. He was smirking, holding one muff off his ear. “You look sexy as hell holding my Glock. I know the minute you pop your first round you’ll be addicted, begging me to bring you back here. Don’t overthink it. Just relax and enjoy it. It’s a hell of a stress reliever. Trust me.”
His small phrase repeated in my mind, evoking both my comfort and apprehension while I replaced the brand name of his gun with visions of his cock. “You say trust me a lot, you know that?”
His smile widened. “I just put a loaded gun in your hands. There’s a tremendous amount of trust going on here. Besides,” he shrugged, “trust is the basis for everything. Without it, relationships are superficial.”