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4

ARTHUR

I t feels like I’m dancing on a tightrope. Half of me wants to drop down and worship at Eva’s feet, while the other understands the obligation I’m under. This is a job. My second after getting out of the military. I have to set my interests aside, show this girl how to defend herself, and start building a reputation for myself.

But she isn’t making it any easier. I’m losing my focus on Eva’s doe-eyed beauty. Every question, every answer, makes her prickle her nose and drop her jaw in astonishment. Doesn’t help that one look at her tongue makes my cock throb fiercely, while I’m left imagining all the places it could run to send me over the fucking moon.

There it is again. I give my thoughts a moment to roam, and they rush straight to the filthiest places. If I can’t even make it through this chat, how the hell am I going to survive the next few weeks?

“Take this.” I drop the notepad back into my bag and lift my Glock off the tree stump.

“What?” Eva rests her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes like it’s a crazy order.

“It’s unloaded, and the safety’s on. Just take it and point it at the trees over there.” I gesture toward a dense pocket of saplings beyond the lake.

“What good’s that going to do? I already told you I’ve never used one before.” Eva protests with words, but her hands reach for the cold steel hanging from my fingers.

She takes it by the handle and stares it down with those big blue eyes, the same way someone might stare down a feral animal in the woods.

“You don’t have to be scared of it. It can’t hurt you unless you do something silly.” I try to ease her, but her heavy gulp says my efforts are in vain.

“Why do I need to learn how to shoot anyway? Gun control is insane in the United Kingdom. I doubt I’ll ever see one of these.” She lifts the gun in her palm as if weighing it.

“It’s better to know and not need than not know when you might.” Words of wisdom aren’t my strong suit, but that one seems mighty fine.

She points the gun toward the trees. A loose grip around the handle is one thing, but her thumb over the slide is what scares me most. “How’s this?”

“Bad,” I answer plainly. I step behind her and get my first whiff of her intoxicating scent. A light, vanilla smell tickles my brain and sends my head spinning like I just smoked a funky cigarette.

“That isn’t helpful, you know?” Eva scoffs.

“I know.” Another step closer and another inhale. It fills my lungs and instantly sends tingles down to my loins.

Trying to steady myself, I reach under her arm for the Glock. I take her thumb off the slide and rest it in the groove below the safety. “Never have your thumb that high. You’d shatter it when you pull the trigger.” I wrap my hand around hers, helping with stability around the handle. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

Try as I might to stay professional, my body has other plans. My heart’s beating unsteadily against my rib cage. My manhood aches at the sensation of her soft skin against my calloused fingers.

How is it that such a tiny little thing has sent me off the deep end? I’ve seen the worst of military life. Sat in the same place for days on end with my sniper scope trained on insurgents. Gunned down militants trying to burn down villages. Been beaten, tortured, and left for dead, but it’s Eva Collins who finally breaks me.

Ain’t it funny how life works out sometimes?

“Not in the slightest. It feels exactly the same,” she grumbles, frustrated.

“Then try this.” I take her free hand in mine and move it under the Glock, where the magazine would go. I tuck her fingers around the edge of her trigger hand before adjusting her arms against her body for ample stability, but in the process, I’ve found myself closer to her.

Too close.

In my half-hunched position, my nose is practically against her hair, breathing her in. My chest is pressed against her back, and my cock is right up against her ass.

And she notices.

“I think something in your pocket is pok—” She stops, figuring out that it isn’t in my pocket at all. “Oh, uhm, forget I said that.”

I should be turning rosy-cheeked and hot with embarrassment, but somehow I’m not. My thumping heart should be a sign of shame. Instead, I’m fucking invigorated. I’ve known Eva all of half an hour, and she’s cracked the thick plating of armor I’ve built around myself.

I clear my throat awkwardly, trying to buy whatever time I can to think, but there’s no getting out of this one. It’s too late. I moved too close too quickly, and my body betrayed me.

“I should go.”

“What?” Eva speaks in a low, guttural whisper. She turns her head over her shoulder, and our faces are inches apart.

I expected her to be repulsed, and now I’m within kissing distance. Fuck, I just want to throw myself into her. Smash our mouths together and let our primal urges take control. It nearly kills me to pull away. Feels like my soul’s staying in the same place while I peel away my husk from her body.

“I should go,” I repeat.

“But we’ve barely started.” Now she’s protesting against my leave when she couldn’t stand me a few minutes ago?

“I’ve got what I came for, and tomorrow is another day.” I start packing up before she can say anything to make me change my mind.

She was trouble from the second I saw her. A rebel, fighting tooth and nail to protect her beliefs. I might find the ideas silly, but I admired her strength, and it made this situation easier to deal with. But now? Staying around here will be poking the bear.

I’ve never found it hard to control myself, but she’s a different kind of drug. And if I’m not careful, I’ll be hooked on her before I’ve realized the mistake I’ve made.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I don’t bother packing up the machine gun.

“Alright, cowboy. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eva giggles at my flustered state. “Just remember to keep that piece holstered.”