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A shoulder jerks; her hands lift. The gun nestles in her palms.
My atoning mouth drops onto her shoulder. I lift the side of her earphones to say, “You're ready.”
Just as I’m readjusting my headphones, Luxury puts the gun down, removes the headphones, and spins around.
“A decent meal doesn’t imply that I’m ready for a firefight. Vic, stop with the look. You gotta be kidding me.”
I clasp her face in my hands, mouth twisted into a snarl. “You chose to pick up a gun to provide the allusion of safety for yourself. You went after Dr. Charles Everhart, all on your own, Little One.”When I finish with you, you’ll only need me for sex and companionship.
Luxury gasps. “Don’t worry about me taking your gun ever again.”
“I have no such worries.”
“Good.”
“This one is yours. His and hers 9mms.” A slight glimmer of happiness sparks in my eyes. It’s overshadowed by the shock in hers.
“Vic, I . . . wasn’t going to shoot Uncle Red. Or maybe in the frame of mind I had been, maybe I would have. But now, I’m certain that I wouldn’t have.”
“Are you aware of what happens to people who bear arms yet lack the skills for proper usage?”
“I don’t need to know.” Her eyes flicker to the gun.
“One. They are lucky.Youwere bloody lucky! Or two, someone tests their capabilities.”
I press a button on the wall, and the target slowly comes toward us. Luxury starts away, but my hand claims the back of her neck. “Stay.”
Satisfied with her compliance, I let go, grabbing the poster.
She gawks at the precise headshots in the target paper.
“Not even a zombie can come back after that,” Luxury jokes as I reach under the counter for another target. “Hey, let's make this fun. Do you at least have any interesting targets?”
“This will not be fun.”
“No fun?” She groans.
Ignoring her is second nature as a silhouette free of any bullets zips backward.
Thirty yards precisely.
I again step behind Luxury. My lips graze her earlobe, and I order, “Take this seriously.”
“I am.” Her arse bumps into me.
“Breathe.” My hand fortifies her lower abdomen. “Breathe for me, Lux.”
“Damn, how serious can I take this?” Her seductive tone stirs my fucking cock.
Down boy.
“Vic, all I want to do is—”
“Pick up the gun.”
“Well, at least you’re not being stoic.” She snorts, following through with the order.
I offer simple directives. Once she appears ready, we place our headgear on.
