Chapter 10 - Roman

The day after the family gathering, I found myself unable to stop questioning my decision. Letting Gwen come along to the meeting with the Vultures? I must be losing my mind. Never in my life have I ever been this lenient. Whenever I wanted something, I got it. If I wanted to make a decision, I made it. But somehow, Gwen has found a way to march past my walls and get under my skin, making me always want to say yes to her, even when every instinct of mine screams no. If it weren’t for the growing concern for her safety—something that has turned into an obsession—I might even find it amusing.

But I have realized that Gwen isn’t someone you can leash. Not that I would even want to if I could. Something about her wild, untamed spirit lights a fire in me. She’s fearless, relentless, and if I’m completely honest with myself… I like it—a lot.

The thought sparks an idea in my mind. If she’s going to insist on putting herself in risky situations, then she damn well needs to be prepared. Without overthinking it, I grab my phone and shoot her a text:

Get ready. Sporty clothes. We’re going out.

Gwen doesn’t hesitate. Within fifteen minutes, she’s hopping down the stairs in leggings and a tank top that hugs her slender, toned figure so well I’m tempted to abandon my idea entirely and take her back upstairs. I resist, however, greeting her with a smile before taking her out in my grey McLaren 720S.

Soon, we arrive at the shooting range. Gwen glances around, curious, but says nothing, seemingly waiting for my explanation. I watch her closely as we walk in, admiring the contrast between the nurse-in-training I’ve come to know and the fierce woman standing beside me now, ready for whatever I throw her way.

“I’m going to teach you how to shoot,” I say, keeping my voice casual with my eyes locked on hers. “You need to be able to handle yourself, especially in the situation we’re heading into. And since you’re my wife now”—I can’t help but smirk at the word—“I won’t let anything happen to you. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how to protect yourself.”

Her eyes light up with excitement, and I feel a rush of heat surge through me. God, this woman surprises me at every turn. She’s supposed to be the studious, organized type—always reading her textbooks, always focused on her career. But here she is, eager as hell to learn how to fire a weapon.

I dig it. I dig her .

I nod to one of the staff members as I lead her down the hallway and into the indoor range, where targets are lined up at the end of the room, and spots to shoot divided by metal caging sit in front of us. I called the place shortly before we left, paying the owner a delicious amount so that he’d clear the range and set up different weapons for us to try. In front of us lay several weapons separated by the dividers, starting with a pistol and ending with a sniper rifle.

I walk forward towards the pistol first, a .45, and dive into explaining the basics of the gun, showing her how to handle it, stand, and stay focused. As expected, Gwen absorbs everything like a sponge. I can’t deny that her laser focus turns me on in ways I hadn’t anticipated. The way she listens, the way she moves, the way she looks at me with those sharp, determined eyes… It’s electric. I can’t get enough of it.

“Here,” I say as she picks up the weapon and looks at it, moving behind her. I rest both of my hands on her waist and guide her so that she is standing directly in line with me. I’m close to her—closer than necessary, maybe—but I can’t resist.

“Hold it like… this.” I reach forward and lightly lay both of my palms atop the back of her hands, guiding her tiny fingers with my larger ones to reposition them on the firearm. I’m focused, but I’m so close to her now.

A fire ignites in the pit of my stomach, a tiny flame that begins to grow in size as I take another step forward. My body is pressed up against hers now. I feel her body tense under my touch, her breathing growing shallow, and it evokes a reaction in me that begins to grow the bulge in my pants.

“How is that?” Gwen breathes. I can’t see her face right now, but God, I wish I could.

“Perfect,” I reply, my breath hot against her ear as I lean so my face grazes the back of her head. I can smell her strawberry shampoo and bits of the rosy perfume she uses to match it.

I can feel the tension building between us, thick and palpable. I reposition my hands, sliding them over her arms to correct her stance as she readies to shoot. I hear her breath hitch once I slide my hands back to rest on her waist.

“Is that good?” She asks.

“Yes,” I respond softly. “You’re doing so good already.” The air seemed to crackle with the unspoken thoughts that had been simmering between us for days now. I take a step back, noticing the way her body shudders as I part. And if that, in combination with her slightly ragged breathing, is anything to go by…

I’d bet good money she was getting just as turned on as I was.

The thought is super arousing, and I have to focus to keep myself in check. “You’re good to shoot whenever,” I tell her.

She fires off a few rounds, her shots improving with each one. When she hits the center of the target, Gwen lets out a small triumphant laugh, spinning around to face me, her face lit with excitement.

I smile, but before he can even process what’s happening, she steps forward and pecks me on the lips. I catch her in my arms as she does so, and then she quickly pulls back, looking at me with surprise as if she couldn’t comprehend what she just did. My hands instinctively grab her hips. Her body is pressed against mine, and then—just like that—I collide my lips into hers.

It’s like a spark ignites between us. The kiss is hot and intense, as if she’s been waiting for this for far too long, just as I have. My hands are too eager to slide up her back and tangle in her hair as I deepen the kiss. I can tell she’s eager, too. I can taste it.

Gwen moans against my lips, and my body responds instantly. Heat floods through me and makes me ache in all the right places. Our lips move in sync. Her scent surrounds me, driving me wild. She presses closer, her fingers digging into my shoulders, and I feel the tension snap—the dam breaking after weeks of holding back.

But then, as I feel her finger dance towards taking off my shirt, just as things are about to go further, I pull back, panting slightly, my forehead resting against hers. I’m on the edge, but this isn’t where I want it to happen, as hot as it sounds.

“Not here, Moya Lyubimaya ,” I rasp in a voice thick with desire. “The first time I get to explore your body, it’s not going to be in a damn shooting range.”

Her breathing is ragged, her cheeks flushed, and for a second, I wonder if she’ll protest. But then she smirks—an almost wicked grin—and nods.

“Take me home, then,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry, sending a thrill down my spine.

My pulse quickens. The way she talks to me makes me want to change my mind and bend her over the table right here, right now. Maybe even use the pistol for extra fun. The anticipation causes me to tighten my hands around her waist for a moment before I pull away and grab the keys. We leave the range in a hurry, and as soon as we’re in the car, Gwen’s hands are everywhere.

It takes every ounce of my willpower to keep my eyes on the road as she trails her fingers down my thigh, her touch teasing and relentless. Her breath is hot against my neck when she leans over, and I’m convinced she’s trying to drive me crazy. Who knew that the stubborn, studious woman could be so naughty?

“Gwen,” I growl, gripping the steering wheel tighter as her hand slides dangerously close to the large bulge in my pants. “You’re going to make us crash.”

She giggles, but it’s a breathless, sexy sound that sends a fresh wave of desire straight to my core. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, my control slipping by the second.

Lucky for us, I’m a damn good driver. But I know all bets are off when we pull into the garage and the engine shuts off.