âYou want me to what?â Brinley asks as I take my shirt off. Fuck, itâs hot. We just ran the equivalent of three miles and walked one through the trails that surround my acreage. I watch as her throat works to swallow her electrolytes. Fuck sheâs incredible.
Her little spandex shorts cling to her in all the right places, the loose t-shirt she wears over one of those little spandex bras is like a teaser and her dark hair is piled high on her head. Sheâs growing stronger by the day and is being transformed into an unassuming little weapon under my command. Sheâs still keeping the curviness of her form though, and I canât get enough of it, that full pert ass and grippable hips are what fucking dreams are made of.
I add a fresh mag to the Glock 43 sheâs been training with and hand it over.
âYou wanna carry your own gun, you can prove to me that you can handle it. Itâs not something you toy with. I need to know you arenât afraid to shoot and that you can shoot accurately under pressure.â I walk away from Brinley towards a tree thirty feet away. Her accuracy would never need to be more than that in a threatening situation and Iâm hoping sheâs as precise as she has been over the last week. I take my place, beside a standing target with a fresh sheet on it. Its bullseye is less than a foot from me. I plant myself there and look into her eyes.
âNo, uh-uh, youâre absolutely crazy,â she says in horror.
I smirk. âYouâre just figuring this out now?â
âGabriel,â she says in the way that makes my cock twitch every fucking time. âI canât.â
I swear, I could bury myself inside some part of this woman all hours of the day and never tire of her. Something about her drives me to the absolute brink of insanity and settles me all at once.
âYou can. You arenât the Brinley Rose they made. Be you, be strong. Be my girl,â I tell her firmly.
Her pretty blue eyes narrow at me and she looks down at the gun then back to me.
I watch with fascination as she comes to terms with the idea that she could kill me right now. Itâs not the way fear lines her eyes but that spark of electricity when she understandsâ¦she holds all the power that drives me.
âYou donât want to put a bulletproof vest on?â
âNot a chance,â I answer. âThatâs why the target is on my right.â I grin. âBetter chance of survival if you hit this side of my body.â
Brinley doesnât speak. She just tilts her hips the way Iâve shown her as the late July cicadas fill the air.
Am I scared right now? Not really. The only regret Iâd have is not having more time with her. And if I have to go out, going by Brinleyâs hand, while staring at her beautiful face, is the way Iâd want. She moves her left leg forward and the right leg behind a little, and lifts the gun, holding it with both hands.
âYour shoulder,â I tell her, reminding her to lean it a little forward to help with the recoil.
She nods, determination in her eyes and every single feature.
Ten long seconds of silence fill the air and then Brinleyâs eyes meet mine once before she zeros in on her target and fires.