Page 57 of Anton

“Like this.” His breath brushes near my ear. “Hold it tighter.”

His voice alone should be illegal.

I try to focus on the tree or the gun, on literally anything other than the hard feel of his body behind me or the way his fingers fit over mine just right. My body betrays me, warmth cascading through me while my nipples grow taut against my top.

Fantastic. Apparently I can’t even get through a damn shooting lesson without wanting to jump him.

I try my best to do what he says and actually follow his instructions.

“Good girl. Just like that.”

Oh God.

Sir, that’s not helping…

“You will shoot that tree straight ahead.”

I nod, my stomach flipping with nerves as I lift the gun, his hand still wrapped around mine while I aim toward the trunk and try to focus.

“Breathe.” The word brushes over my ear.

I drag in a shaky breath, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of my pulse while his grip keeps mine in place.

“Now squeeze.”

I pull the trigger, and the shot cracks through the woods so sharply that my arms jolt from the recoil. But instead of hitting the tree I intended, it misses, hitting another.

My shoulders sink. “Damn it.”

“Did you expect to hit it on your first try?”

“Yes.” I shrug, turning to him. “I was hoping to be naturally gifted.”

“Well, now that we have established you aren’t, you will try again.”

I scoff playfully. “That’s not very encouraging.”

“You’ll get used to it, printsessa. Now, again.” He grabs my hips and spins me toward the tree. “Shoot.”

His fingers delve into my flesh, his body pinned to mine.

“You’re not helping me?”

“Net. Now you do it yourself.”

When he notices my grip lower, he kisses my neck, and I shudder.

“Do not let one miss rattle you. Focus.”

That’s hard to do when you’re kissing me like that.

I lift the gun with more determination this time, wanting to do it right, to hear his approval. My arm rises, my finger pressing the trigger, but when I fire, I miss again.

“Fuck!” I lower the weapon, frustration bubbling inside me.

When I close my eyes, Anton grips my shoulders. “We aren’t leaving until you make the shot.”

“Well, I guess we’ll be sleeping here tonight.”