CHAPTER 36
EMILY
The ear protectors muffled the pops and cracks around me. The visor was so clean and light I barely knew it was over my eyes. The gun was pink, which I didn’t think was possible, but it was the club’s most popular rental. I liked it because it wasn’t as scary as the others.
All I felt was Carter’s body behind me. His right foot pushing mine into place. His arms around mine, meeting at the focal point of our joined hands. His hips just an inch away, too far for me to feel for his arousal.
I had earmuffs on, so he tapped my shoulder when he wanted me to squeeze the trigger. My arms bent with the recoil, and I smelled a more intense Carter smell—gunpowder. The bullet missed the black and white paper target by a mile.
Carter moved the muff away from my ear.
“You keep flinching when you shoot. Don’t turn your head.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Pretend it’s Vince, and if you turn your head, he might come at you.”
He slid the earpiece back on, pressed his body against me, and squeezed my hands. I squinted until I could see Vince’s goatee, his leering smile, smell his sense of entitlement.
I shot, missing the bull’s-eye. But I didn’t turn my head, and I didn’t flinch.
I pushed my mufflers off my head. “I did it!”
“Got him in the shoulder,” Carter said. “He’s at least on the floor screaming while you dial 911.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t do this before.” I gave him the weapon, and he chambered the next bullet. “I’m going to put a hole in his head this time.”
“Whoa, girl.”
He held the gun away even though I was eager to go again. I’d spent so much time feeling like a sitting duck, waiting for my security to be breached. For the day to come when Vince finally killed or raped me. Taking that power back made my skin tingle. I wanted to jump up and down. Carter’s eyes went a little wide.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said.
“Like what? Give me the gun.” I clenched and unclenched my grabby little hands.
“Happy.”
A bell rang twice. The pops and cracks of the other shooters stopped.
“Time’s up,” Carter said. I sulked. “We’ll come back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. You’ll be a sharpshooter in no time.”
I lost my mind in the car. As soon as he closed his door, I was on him, hiking my skirt up so I could straddle him on the driver’s side, pushing down on his cock. We kissed and sucked, yanked at clothing, reaching for skin. I undid his belt, clawing at everything between me and his dick.
“Wait,” he breathed.
“Hell no.”
“The first time we fuck isn’t going to be in my car.”
“No, it’s not. I owe you. I’m going to suck your cock, and I’m going to swallow every drop.”
The surprise on his face was unmistakable.
“You dirty-mouthed little girl.”
“Wash it out with your cum.”
He took my cheeks in his hands and squeezed until my lips slackened and opened.
“When you take it, you take it all.” He bit my bottom lip and pulled, letting his teeth scrape and release. “Every inch. Mouth only.”
He let my face go. I was wet and throbbing, but I could wait.
I got off him and put both my knees on the passenger seat. I reached for his dick like a starving woman. It was long and thick, with a darker head. A drop of fluid ran down the back, and I licked it off. It was salty and warm, and I kissed him with it still on my tongue.
“Filthy.” He groaned. “You’re filthy, and I like it.”
I reached over and pulled the lever on the side of his seat until he was at a comfortable recline. Pulling up his shirt, I ran my fingernails over his abs and up his cock, then held it steady as I lowered my head onto it, sliding my tongue against him slowly, pushing down my tongue so he could enter my throat without stopping.
“Oh my God,” he whispered when I got his massive dick all the way down. Not a small feat. It had been a while, and I had to scold back the gag reflex. When I pulled up slowly again as if I were in complete control, I sucked on the head and popped off.
“That okay?” I looked up at him. He reached for the hem of my dress and pulled it up, exposing my panties to the window.
“Next session’s over in twenty minutes. So unless you want everyone in the club to see us, you better keep going.”
Twenty minutes?
Easy.
He slid his hand under my panties and stroked my ass. I took him again, faster and faster, breathing in between thrusts, pushing my nose against his belly. He fisted my hair and paced me, thrusting into my mouth with hot gasps.
“Coming,” he grunted. Two thrusts later, he came down my throat with a long, sultry murmur, sticky and bitter, warm with life. That groan, that orgasm, that loss of control, was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I put his underwear over his still-slick penis and kissed his cheek. He rerouted his face to kiss me on the lips.
“Thank you.”
“Can we skip dinner? We can eat at my house.”
“What do you have?”
“I have a little Meow Mix left.” I pulled my skirt down and sat facing front.
“I love Meow Mix.”
He started the car, and we went back to my place.