This time, I ignore the slight sinking feeling in my chest, and I tell my inner logic to go to hell. At least for now.
Just let me have right now...
“You okay?” Dean asks, as he slips into the car.
“I’m fine.” I shut my eyes as he leans over to kiss me. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere close. It’s not that far.” That’s all he offers, a mischievous grin on his lips.
I lean back in my seat as he pulls onto the street. As he turns on the music and a band from our past begins to play, I wonder if now would be a good time to talk.
“Just tell me what happened to you that made you act that way toward me all of sudden?” “Do you know how badly you hurt me?” “Do you even care?” “Do you know that I still love you, as much as I don’t want to?”
I go over each of the conversation options in my head, but neither seems fitting enough. And by the time I settle on, “Can we please just have ten minutes to get whatever we want off our chest at some point tonight?” Dean is pulling into the parking lot of ‘Portland Police Training Facility.’
“Did you leave something at work?” I ask.
“Not at all.” He parks the car and gets out, walking over to my door. “Just trust me.”
He walks me inside and leads me down a few sets of steps into a basement. When he hits the lights, I can see what appears to be a colossal stock room. There are never-ending aisles stocked with bullet proof vests, radios, and flashlights.
Leading me past two double doors, he hits the lights once more and I realize we’re in a gun range.
“You want to teach me how to shoot you?” I ask.
“I highly doubt you’ll ever want to do that.” He pulls me into one of the small glass firing rooms and points at the target that’s far away from me. “Even if you were capable, I’m pretty sure you’d miss.”
“Want to bet?”
He ignores my question, not looking threatened at all. “Lift your hands up.”
I oblige and he takes a vest from the shelf next to me and places it onto me. He secures the straps tightly, and then he places a pair of tinted wraparound glasses over my face.
Grabbing a pair of sound blocking earbuds and a pair of pink earbuds, he looks at me, “You’ll be able to hear me through these, but do not take them off until we’re a hundred percent done here. Clear?”
I nod and he hands them over to me. When I put them on, I notice him grabbing a vest for himself. I watch him get into everything extremely quickly and I briefly wonder if he’s brought any of his dates here.
“I haven’t,” he says, shaking his head. “Just you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The fact that you clearly still have a problem talking out loud to yourself.” He smiles. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here.”
I blush and he pulls out a rack of small guns. He looks as if he’s determining which one I’d be best suited to handle, and then he picks up a small silver firearm.
“This is a Beretta, a semi-automatic,” he says. He shows me how to hold it, how to check the clip, and the correct way to pull the trigger.
“We’ll start with this one and move up to different ones as you get more comfortable.” He gives me the gun and gestures for me to turn around and face the target.
Standing behind me, he places his hands on my hips and whispers, “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at any point.”
My hands shake as I reposition the gun. I stand still for a while, forgetting all the instructions he gave me just minutes ago. All I can concentrate on now is the slight impression of his cock against my body, as he leans into me and the faint and intoxicating scent of his cologne.
“Spread your feet apart slightly, square your shoulders and squeeze the trigger when you’re ready,” he whispers. “That’s it.”
It takes me a minute to feel comfortable in the firing stance, but when he gives me the directions again, I pull my finger against the metal and the shot rings out loud and clear against the empty space.
I shoot the gun again and again, feeling an exhilarating rush every time, and before I know it, the gun is only making a weak clicking noise. It’s out of bullets.
I turn around and notice him on the verge of laughter.
“What?” I ask. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Would you like to shoot some more?”
“I would. How long do we have here?”
“All night.” He picks up another gun and kisses me. “This time, try not to shoot all of the bullets into the floor...”
Chapter 28
MIA