1001 Dark Nights (14 page)

“This”—she gestured around the space without breaking eye contact with him—” is an important part of who you are, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Not just about the James Bond underground thingy, but that you—”

“Had something in my life besides bulldoggin’?”

“Yes.”

Not accusatory or hurt, but more curious. So he really felt like a total fucking heel for keeping this from her, too. “Because shooting has always been just mine in a way that bulldoggin’ never will be. I do it for enjoyment. It’s the one thing that’s kept me sane during this last recovery.”

They were nose to nose, breathing hard, staring at one another.

“Are you a good shot?” she asked softly.

“Darlin’, I put a gun range in my basement. What do you think?”

Then she took a step back and her gaze roamed over him, head to toe, the return journey much slower as she seemed to catalog every inch of him, as if she was seeing him for the first time. When their gazes met, something had changed in London’s eyes.

“Jesus. What now?”

“Do you ever wear those special military clothes when you’re down here shooting?”

He frowned. “You mean like camo?”

“No.” Her eyes were firmly on his chest. “The kind of clothes that black ops guys wear. A tight black T-shirt and black cargo pants tucked into biker boots, and a belt with a place for your gun, ammo, and maybe a pair of handcuffs? Ooh, and those mysterious wraparound sunglasses.”

Sutton watched as she bit her lip. Then it dawned on him. She was turned on by the idea of him packing heat.

His cock went as hard as steel.

This was a far better reaction than fear. And if she wanted to play gun range taskmaster and novice shooter? He’d give it a whirl.

“When’s the last time you fired a gun?” he asked gruffly.

“It’s been a long time. And I never was very good at it.”

He crowded her. “We’ll change that right now.”

“What? I’m in my damn pajamas!”

“So? Gimme your hand.”

“Sutton—”

“In here I’m the teacher, and darlin’, you
don’t
get to argue with me.” He snatched her hand. “A Glock will be too big for you. Let’s start out with a thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight what? Shots?”

“Thirty-eight caliber.” His eyes searched hers. “You really don’t know anything about guns?”

“Besides they’re loud and dangerous? No.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “That’s what makes them so fun.”

Her palms slid up his chest. “So the question is you gonna show me how to handle your big gun?”

In that instant, Sutton knew total acceptance. He knew those voices in his head telling him what he felt for her had gone beyond just lust and amusement and straight to love hadn’t been taunting him. Still, he kept his tone light. “The one I want you handling has some heft to it. It heats up real fast.”

“Show me.”

He bent down and brushed his lips across the top of her ear. “You will listen to me and do exactly as I say.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“Feel free to look around while I get out the guns and ammo.” Sutton opened the safe and removed one gun—a thirty-eight Ruger revolver. When he turned around, London was staring at him. “What?”

“You are the most fascinating man I’ve ever met. And I’ve just touched the tip of the iceberg with you. I wonder what other secrets are beneath the surface.”

“It’s always the quiet ones you have to worry about,” he joked.

“Sutton. I’m serious.”

“Me, too. Come on. Let’s load and shoot.” He unlocked the gun cabinet and took down the box of bullets. He flipped the cylinder out and shoved in six bullets. “This first round I’ll have you watch. Then I’ll get you situated to shoot.” Sutton snagged his ear protection and the plastic eye protection from the pegboard. There were half a dozen other sets of ear and eye protection hanging there, and he handed her the smallest set. “You can stand behind me and watch. And pay attention, sweetheart, ’cause there’s gonna be a test.”

Sutton ducked into the shooting area and started the ventilation system. He chose a target, picked the range, and hit the button that sent it back to his coordinates. He moved his neck side to side, shrugged his shoulders, and dropped them down as he widened his stance. Once he’d picked up the gun, he inhaled a slow breath and released it before he fired. Six times. He punched the button and the target returned. He’d clustered his shots, pretty damn perfectly if he did say so himself. Practice was paying off for him. He faced her.

Crazy woman smiled and gave him a double thumbs-up.

After he left the shooting area, London said, “I know you want me to have a turn, but I’d really like to see you do that again.”

“Fine. Let’s reload. You’re doing it this time. And be careful because the barrel is hot.”

“Why don’t you just take the box of ammo in with you?”

“It’s a safety protocol. Don’t reload where you shoot. Full clip going in, empty clip going out. I follow that even when I’m down here by myself.”

“Such a rule follower you are, Mr. Grant.”

“On most things? Yes.” He let his hot gaze sweep over her sexy, pajama-clad form. “But I wanna break all the rules when it comes to you, darlin’.”

Sutton shot another round. Then he brought London into the shooting area and did the clichéd instructor move where he stood behind her, his arms alongside hers as she pointed the gun. He adjusted her stance. He whispered instructions in her ear. She wasn’t easily distracted, which was a good sign. But she was aware of his hard cock nestled against her ass as he maneuvered her into position.

Gun loaded, he stood behind her as she sited the target. She fired off all six shots in rapid succession. The target showed five hits, so one shot had gone wild.

“Let’s go again. That’s not bad.”

By the sixth round, London had become more comfortable.

But Sutton’s pleasure receptors had overloaded. He was in his gun range with a sexy woman who wore very few clothes and delighted in making “big gun” and “quick on the trigger” and “hot barrel” jokes while sending him—and his cock—smoldering looks. Add in the scent of gun smoke that hung in the air around them and the buzz in his ears from the gunfire, and he was in bad shape. He needed her right fucking now.

“Sutton? Are you okay?”

When his gaze collided with hers, she gasped. “Baby, let’s do something about that. But you’ve gotta put away your toys first.”

As soon as he’d locked away the revolver and box of bullets, he was on her. Kissing her desperately, fumbling with her clothes, needing her skin beneath his hands while his body covered hers. Owned hers.

Sutton took her down to the floor on her hands and knees on the rug in front of the lone easy chair, his cock, head, and heart pounding. The violent need for her had him hiking her hips in the air, pinning her shoulders down with one hand while the other guided his cock between her legs.

But something stopped him.

He glanced down at London, the sexpot who was always up for anything, and he knew she deserved better than this. She liked it as rough and raunchy as he did, but right now he wanted to give her more of himself. “London. Sweetheart. Turn over.”

A haze of lust had already clouded her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just wanna look into your eyes when I’m loving on you.” He levered himself over her. Those muscular thighs of hers automatically circled his waist. He tilted her pelvis and pushed inside her slowly, feeling her snug pussy walls relax to let him in. His hand shook when he brushed her hair off her face. “You are so beautiful.” He kissed her with awe. The gentle mating of their mouths sent warmth flowing through him. “Beautiful and sexy. Sweet and nasty. Is there a more perfect woman on the planet for me?”

“Sutton.”

“I think not. I can say it, but I don’t think you believe it. Let me show you.”

He kissed and touched and tasted her, dragging out the pleasure until their bodies were both slick with sweat.

Her fingers dug into his ass and her back bowed off the floor when he kicked up the pace. “Please, I can’t take any more, this is...”

“For me too. Move with me.”

She did. They were in perfect synchronicity.

When he hit that tipping point and the first wave of pulsing heat erupted, he’d been tempted to close his eyes.

But London’s whispered, “Look at me and let me see you let go,” had him locking eyes with her.

It was one of the most startlingly intimate moments he’d ever experienced.

His entire being shook in the aftermath. He nuzzled and kissed her, needing that grounding contact with her warm skin. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips.

“Can we just stay like this for a little while?” London nibbled on his jawline. “I’m not ready to return to the real world yet.”

“Of course.” He rolled so she was on top, wishing he had a blanket to cover her.

After a bit, she said, “You know, these benches would be a great place for me to work on my jewelry.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Then sometimes I could be down here and keep you company while you’re shooting.”

“I’d like that.” More than she knew.

Chapter Twelve

London glanced at her watch. Where was Sutton? He should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago.

The funnel cakes were tempting. Rather than give in to her desire for fried dough covered in powdered sugar, she wandered to the next vendor site. The tent blocked the heat of the day and a fan from the back blew the first cool air she’d felt since she’d sat in her truck this morning.

She stayed there, pretending to look at the racks of handmade jewelry.

A familiar voice said, “London?”

Don’t turn around. Maybe he’ll go away.

“Never thought you were into jewelry. I’da bought you stuff like this if I thought you’d wear it.”

I didn’t need you to buy me stuff like this. I made stuff like this, dipshit, or don’t you remember?

“You got your earplugs in or something?” Stitch clapped her on the shoulder, forcing her to face him.

“Oh hey, Stitch. What are you doin’ here?”

“Killin’ time until tonight.”

“Without Paige?” came out a little snotty.

“Yeah. I wanted to surprise her with a little something.” He paused. “Probably be wrong of me to ask for your help, huh?”

Do you think, fuckwad?

London shocked even herself when she said, “She’d probably like anything with sparkles or rhinestones.”

“Paige does like her pink stuff.”

They stood side by side, looking at jewelry—for her ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. Talk about bizarre. London spied a lapel pin with a rhinestone crown on it. Tacky, but perfect for a princess. “I think she’ll dig this.”

Stitch nodded. He fingered the points on the crown. “So you and Sutton Grant, huh?”

“Yep.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“That he is.”

“I’ve always admired him. A lot. I watch his performance tapes all the time. His runs are picture perfect.” He chuckled. “Except for that one last year. I was happy to see he didn’t have permanent injuries. Man, he wrecked bad. You normally only see that in rough stock events.”

“Sutton is fortunate.”

Silence stretched between them. Then Stitch blurted, “Dammit, London, I’m so sorry that things ended up the way they did between us.”

She looked at him, half expecting to see him wringing his hat in his hands. His blue eyes were filled with wariness; his cheeks were red with embarrassment. That’s when she remembered why she’d fallen for the cute cowboy in the first place. Stitch was a sweet guy. Their four-year age difference hadn’t mattered to her, but now she realized they’d always been in different places in their lives. While she patted herself on the back for lighting a fire in his Wranglers, in truth she’d been more his teacher for sex and dealing with his horse than his girlfriend. As much as it pained her to admit it now, she understood why he’d wanted something different.

They’d had some good times together. But if she really thought hard about it, she’d always known in her heart that they weren’t right for each other for the long haul.

So was she repeating the pattern with Sutton? Training his horse and having hot, kinky, wild sex with him?

No. There was an emotional connection she’d never had with a man before. And she suspected Sutton felt it too. But since she’d blurted out her love for Stitch within the first month, this time, when it mattered, she’d be more cautious.

“London?”

She realized she’d gotten lost in her thoughts. “Sorry. I just wish you’d talked to me instead of sending me a lousy text message. Was that your idea or Paige’s?”

He blushed. “Mine. Paige knew I was with someone when she and I first started hanging out. When we realized we wanted to be more than friends...I just ended it right then so we could be.”

“You didn’t think I’d be upset? Or that I deserved an explanation?”

“What was I supposed to say? Especially since we’d spent more time apart than together those last couple months.”

“Is that when you and Paige started seeing each other?”

“Yeah, but as friends. And just so you know, because we never talked about it, Paige and I didn’t... I mean we weren’t...We hadn’t...” He blushed harder.

Good lord. How had she ever ended up naked with this guy? “You and Paige weren’t bumping uglies while you were still with me?”

“No! I’d never do that.” His fist closed around the piece of jewelry. “I liked you, London. A whole lot. But meeting Paige... I never felt anything like it. She’s just the one. And she feels the same way about me.” Stitch’s blue eyes met hers. “This ain’t a fling with her.”

“Like it was with me.”

He nodded.

Just then, something inside her shifted. If she had to lose out—although now she suspected it was just getting dumped that’d had her seeing red—she’d rather lose out to true love.

“So are you gonna be mad at me forever? Cause we’ll be seeing each other for years yet if we’re both working the circuit.”

She grudgingly said, “No. But I’d be happy if you talked to Paige about keeping her animosity leashed. She doesn’t have anything to worry about when it comes to me.”