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I can tell she’s still afraid of the gun when Carlos releases another clay, but I press my body into hers, urging her to lean forward. When she pulls the trigger, I hold her steady, helping her absorb the shock and keep the butt of the gun in its proper position.
“Better, right?”
She lets out a breath. My body leaps. “Much.”
She missed the clay again. But her stance and aim are already improving.
She misses again. And again.
She gets frustrated. I take a turn and hit three clays in a row. I have her stand behind me, her front plastered to my back, my blood roaring as I try to show her how it’s done.
When I slide my safety back in place, Bel squeezes my ass. I yelp. She laughs.
It’s her turn. She misses over and over, but she keeps at it, keeps trying, determination in the square of her shoulders and the firm line of her mouth.
She’s always been this way. She told me once she’s never been the smartest person in the room (I do not agree with this assessment), but she is one of the hardest working.
One of things that makes her so damn brilliant is that she’s a fast learner.
My blood is roaring now. I’m sporting a half chub, and it’s murder trying to hide it as the minutes tick by.
Time goes too damn quickly when we’re together.
At last, toward the end of our lesson, she nabs a clay. When it shatters, she screams, and I have to remind her she’s got a live firearm in her hands.
She puts on the safety and hands the gun to Carlos. Then she promptly leaps into my arms wearing the biggest smile I’ve seen on her yet. Yesterday morning’s heaviness is a distant memory.
I wrap my arms around her. She wraps her legs around me.
“That was fun,” she says, burying her head in my neck. “Can we never do it again, please? My arm feels like it’s about to fall off.”
I laugh and tighten my arm around her waist, pressing her groin more firmly against mine. The arousal gathered there throbs.
I shouldn’t.
But I already know I’m gonna take her back to my place and take off her clothes. I hope she doesn’t have to be home for the baby soon.
It is absolutely not appropriate to be in this condition around my employees. But Carlos is, as always, great at reading the room. He politely thanks us and disappears with our guns and ammo.
I nudge my erection—it’s there now, full mast—between Bel’s legs. Her breath hitches, fingers finding purchase in the hair at the nape of my neck.
She flexes her thigh, using her leg to pull me closer.
I nip at her earlobe, then kiss her temple.
She touches her forehead to mine and blinks, tangling our eyelashes.
The way we’re touching each other—it’s at once new and familiar.
“Your mom say she could stay until the end of the month?”
Bel nods. “She’ll have to work remotely for the last week. But yeah, we really lucked out.”
“I have some ice back at my place I could put on it. Your arm.” I lean in and kiss her mouth, hard and hot, my tongue toying with the seam of her lips. “You got time?”
Bel nudges her nose against mine. “Not much. Make it quick?”
“Done.”
I drive my golf cart like a lunatic to my house. Bel is on me in the hall before the door closes behind us. Her impatience, her eagerness, puts a big old smile on my face.
She pushes me against the wall, hard, and goddamn if my dick doesn’t scream bloody murder against the prison of my jeans. She crowds me, kissing my neck as she slides her hand inside my shirt. Her fingers are warm on my stomach. They toy with my happy trail and the ridges of muscle that bisect my belly.
She’s learning me, and I love it.
Then her hands are on my fly, her fingers working the zipper, and now they’re around my dick.
It’s my turn to take charge. Otherwise, I’m gonna come in five seconds flat.
Bucking my hips, I make the kiss mine as I back her into the wall, crowding her with my body. She moans, and I unbutton her jeans and yank them down her thighs. She’s wearing these pretty little sheer black panties. I can see the sweet lips of her pussy through them, and I wanna yell, so I do.
“You shaved!”
She lifts a shoulder, not at all shy. “It turns me on to try something new. Which I’m hoping will help the lubrication situation.”
“I love it.”
“The bare pussy?”
“No.” I look up at her. The burn in Bel’s eyes is what I live for. “Shit that turns you on. That’s what I love. Your pussy is perfect shaved, not shaved. It’s yours, so I love it.”
I mean what I say. So I firm the muscles in my core and roll back my hips, pulling my dick out of her grasp. She cries out, but I’m already on my knees, trailing my mouth down the slope of her belly.
