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"I know."
He retrieved the Glock from the car, along with some of the targets he used when he was sharpening his own skills.
They walked past his greenhouses and down the hill into a secluded valley, then set up the targets against the hill, where there was no chance of hitting anything besides the paper and straw-or dirt.
"We should be doing this at a shooting range," he said.
"Why?"
"Because it's always best to learn from a professional. But we'd still have the problem of identifying you. So we'll have to do it here if we do it at all."
After unloading the weapon, he delivered a lecture on gun safety, starting with a warning about never pointing the weapon at anyone unless you intended to kill them.
Next he let her familiarize herself with the feel of the gun in her hand. After that, he gave them both ear protectors and loaded the weapon. First he fired off several rounds at the target. Then he let her have a try.
He knew she had been watching carefully when she imitated his stance and squeezed the trigger, obviously surprised by the recoil. But she gamely tried again. And by the time she'd emptied the clip, she was looking more confident.
After she'd put the weapon down, he retrieved the target and showed her the bullet holes.
She poked her finger into them. "This could go into someone's body."
"And do a lot of damage."
"I see that." She swallowed. "Thank you for the lesson."
"Do you feel more comfortable with the weapon?" he asked.
Her face was very serious. "Not comfortable. But I understand it better."
"We'll decide where to keep it in the house. And where to store the clips. It's dangerous to keep the gun loaded."
"Yes," she answered, her tone so serious that he felt his heart contract. He'd hoped he could make her feel more secure, but he wasn't sure he'd done it.
They walked back to the house and together decided to keep the gun in the top of the bedroom closet. He put the clip in the bottom of a bedroom drawer.
"You've made me see that having a gun is a big responsibility," she murmured.
"That's very perceptive of you. There are a lot of men running around who don't get it."
"You're a good teacher." She turned to face him. "The whole time we were down there, I kept my mind on business."
"Yes."
"But I was also thinking that the gun is very dangerous, and you must trust me very much to let me use it."
"Yes."
"If you can show me how much you trust me, I should do the same."
His throat felt suddenly tight. "There's no should."
"Well, maybe I said it wrong. I want to show you that I trust you." She took a step toward him and clasped her arms around him. Suddenly he couldn't move.
She held on to him for several seconds, then raised up so that she could press her lips against his.
She had taken him by surprise, but only for a moment. And when she began to move her lips against his, he responded by leaning forward and angling his head to give her better access.
Heat sparked between them-clean and strong and arousing.
She made a small sound as she drank him in and gave him back the pa.s.sion she tasted on his lips. When he finally raised his head, they were both gasping for breath.
"It doesn't take so long," she whispered.
"What?"
"To get that hot, tingly feeling."
"You're getting used to it."
"I want you to tell me something," she asked shyly.
"Anything."
She took his hand and pressed it directly over her center. "What do I call this? I mean the part of me where the good feeling is the strongest."
"Your c.l.i.toris. That's the technical word. But people call it a c.l.i.t for short."
"My c.l.i.t," she said, pressing his hand more firmly against her.
She lowered her arms, so that they were slung around his hips. Moving his hand out of the way, he let her pull him toward her, bringing his erection against her abdomen.
She moved against him, driving him wild at the contact. But he heard her make a small sound of frustration.
"You're too tall," she murmured. "I want to feel that against my c.l.i.t."
"G.o.d, yes."
"What should we do?"
"This." He backed up so that his hips were braced against the wall, then splayed his legs so that he could equalize their heights. When he pulled her against his c.o.c.k, she made a sound of agreement.
"Do you think I'm acting too... forward?" she asked.
"Of course not. You're showing me you feel the same way I do."
She opened her mouth, pressing her teeth against his shoulder. "The hot, needy feeling never went away. I mean, it was there in the background, the whole time since the tent. Well, maybe not when the policeman was asking us question. But the rest of the time."
"Yeah."