Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Not so fast, angel.” His palms push into my shoulders. “Keep your shoulders square, your arms relaxed, and your thumbs away from the slide at the back. It pinches like a bitch if it catches you.”
I nod, despite being a bit overwhelmed by the onslaught of instructions. I check my that thumbs are clear, square my shoulders, and force my arms to soften. “Right.”
“The power will shock you at first. Be prepared for the kickback.”
“Okay,” I say, widening my stance a little.
Jake comes in closer to my side and indicates the back of the gun. “Pull the slide back.” He points to the top of the gun, and I do as I’m bid, pulling it back as I pull in breath. “The red light here tells you the gun is uncocked and you’re ready to fire.’
I move my eyes to where Jake is indicating at the back of the gun, seeing the red light. “So I’m ready? Just squeeze the trigger?”
“Just squeeze the trigger.”
My teeth grit and I close one eye as I squeeze the trigger.
Bang!
“Holy shit!” I jump a mile into the air, vibrations rippling up my arms, the gun flailing as I swing around.
Jake’s quick to move in and seize it from me, obviously prepared. “You missed by a mile,” he says, amused, pointing toward my target.
“It wasn’t a mile!” I protest. “And how would you know? Those things fire bullets at stupid-miles-per-hour.”
“Ooh, is my angel competitive?”
“No.” I snort, ignoring his smirk. “Give me that gun!” I know better than to snatch it back, so I hold my hand out and give him an expectant look.
He’s enjoying this. And I can’t deny it, so am I. Laying the gun in my palm, he gestures toward the tree, all gentlemanly. Piss-taking arsehole.
I secure my grip, then aim once again, following all of Jake’s previous instructions. I don’t miss his small sound of praise. I’m going to hit it with this shot. Just watch me. Keeping both eyes open this time, I squeeze.
Bang!
My arms don’t fly around this time, and I manage to remain in position, which is how I know the bullet missed the tree by a long shot. Not a mile, but still. “How do I reload?” I ask, keeping my focus on the bark of the trunk.
“It’s semiautomatic.”
I sigh. “Which means what?”
“Which means it loads itself each time a bullet is fired. One pull of the trigger, one shot. As soon as you release the trigger, it’s ready to go again.”
“Right. So I just keep firing?”
“Just keep firing,” he confirms.
I pull again, sending another bullet zooming toward the tree. And past it. “Damn!” I release and squeeze, but again I miss by a mile. I growl under my breath and realign my focus.
Bang!
Bang!
Both miss. “Shit!” I keep firing, each time failing to hit my target, until the slide atop the gun doesn’t retract to allow me to fire anymore.
“You’re out of bullets, angel.” He sounds smug.
“I don’t like this game,” I mutter, dropping the gun to my side. It’s much harder than it looks.
Jake moves in and takes the gun from my hand. “Practice makes perfect,” he quips, releasing the magazine thingy.
“How perfect a shot are you?”
He tucks the weapon under his arm and goes to his pocket, pulling out some bullets and feeding them into the chamber of the magazine. “Shall we see?”
“You’re perfect, aren’t you?” He was a sniper. Of course he’s perfect.
He waggles a cocky eyebrow and locks the magazine in place. “What am I aiming for?” he asks seriously.
Oh, I’m going to make this as tricky as possible. I turn toward the tree and search for an obvious distinguishable mark, something small and precise. I smile when I find it. “About two meters up from the ground, just to the right. There’s a black circular mark.”
Jake searches it out. I know when he finds what I’m pointing at because he smiles that beautiful smile. “There?”
“Exactly there,” I say, standing back.
“Whatever my angel wants.” He pulls the slide back, raises his arm, aims, and fires with hardly a second to line up his shot.
The dead wood of the tree bursts, sending scraps of bark flying in every direction. “No way!” I yell, running toward the tree. I reach the base and look up to the exact spot I indicated, finding a perfect bullet hole. He couldn’t have got it more perfect if he was at point-blank range.
“Jesus, Jake!” I swing around and find him directly behind me, looking up at the tree, too.
“I think I hit it.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
I gasp and jab him in his hard stomach, punching a chuckle from him. “That’s unreal!”
With a smirk, he lifts the barrel toward his mouth and gently blows across the end. The playful move has all kinds of pricks, stabs, and tickles happening all over my naked skin. Oh fuck, he looks unreasonably gorgeous, bare-chested and armed with a gun. I bite my lip and transfer my line of sight from his lush, pouting lips to his sparkling dark eyes. My condition is clear. His awareness to it is clear, too, in the form of a mild, knowing grin.