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“You touched Nunzio’s,” Carmine said, matter-of-factly. “He didn’t get mad about that, did he?”
“I was protecting myself.”
“This is the same thing. You never know when you might need to shoot to protect yourself.”
She sighed. So persistent. “Okay, but why are we in here?”
Carmine pulled the rug out of the way and opened a trapdoor in the floor. “Targets. Ammunition. Safety shit. Depending on your mood, maybe a bulletproof vest for me.”
She gaped at him. “I’d never shoot you.”
“I know. Not intentionally, anyway.”
She cautiously walked over to the entrance to the basement, and Carmine held her hand as they headed down the narrow steps. “Terra di contrabbando,” he said when they reached the bottom. “Welcome to the land of contraband.”
Her eyes swept across the concrete room, taking in the massive crates. “Everything down here is illegal?”
“No, but it’s all pretty fucking unsavory,” he said. “The front ones are mainly alcohol.”
“What about the ones in the back?”
“Come on, I’ll show you. Just don’t touch anything.”
She followed behind him, coming to a halt when the guns came into view. Dozens of them hung on the wall in neat rows, arranged meticulously by size. “Whoa.”
Carmine covered his hand with his shirt as he dug through a box behind her. He tried to hand supplies to Haven, but she wasn’t paying attention as she gaped at the weapons.
“What can I say? My father loves his guns.” Carmine opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of bullets. “But you already knew that.”
She tore her eyes away from them. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of guns, though,” he said. “It’s the dumbasses with their fingers on the triggers that you have to worry about. As long as you stay away from them, no problem.”
She glanced at the weapons again. “What else is down here?”
“More guns, a shitload of casino chips, the dungeon . . .”
Her eyes widened. Dungeon?
* * *
It took the two of them an hour to reach a wide-open space tucked into the woods, the ground covered in an array of wildflowers, a line of tall pine trees surrounding it like nature had deliberately built a fence. Carmine dropped his backpack to the ground as Haven scanned the clearing, a look of awe on her face.
After setting up a target near the tree line, he positioned Haven’s body and grabbed his gun, explaining the safety and number of rounds. He told her to keep it steady and use her foresight to focus on the target, blocking out everything else.
Once she got it, he handed her the earmuffs and safety glasses. Taking a step away, he watched her aim, her hands shaking as she squeezed the trigger. He flinched as she popped off her first round, the recoil and expelled cartridge startling her. She screamed and nearly dropped the gun while he stared at the target—she hadn’t come close.
He put his arms around her again, holding the pistol with her hands on top of his. They fired off the rest of the rounds that way and she relaxed. After reloading, he handed her the gun and gave her some room. The first shot breezed by the target, closer that time, but her hands still shook.
o;I won’t,” she said, her voice trembling as she raised her arms, letting him pull her dress over her head. He was in a stupor as he gazed at her, the contrast between her scarred skin and the dark undergarments striking. The strong, feisty girl suddenly seemed fragile, and he could never live with himself if he somehow broke her.
She reached over and unbuttoned his top button, but he grabbed her hands. “Relax, okay? Let me worship you.”
Her lips curved at his words. He unclasped her bra, tossing it on the floor, and gazed at her as he grazed his hand across her breasts. A blush started on her cheeks and trickled the whole way down her body.
She lay on the bed when he finished undressing her, fisting the comforter. Loud moans bounced off the cabin walls as he caressed every inch of her flesh with his tongue. Her body writhed, her legs vibrating as she melted for him. She smelled sweet like nectar he was desperate to consume. A starving man, craving her like nothing before.
She cried out when her body exploded in pleasure, the sight of her pushing Carmine over the edge. He shrugged off his shirt, discarding it with Haven’s clothes, before kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms around him, her breathing erratic as he unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor. “We can stop—”
