Holding it in one hand, it’s a lot lighter than Alexi’s gun and feels weirdly small and cold in my clenched palm. A better fit than his was. Arm shaking because I am so scared of having one of these in my grasp once more and jump when Alexi slides behind me to lean over my shoulder and see the gun from my perspective.
I completely freeze as his body heat flows over my entire spine and his breath hits my neck. That internal trigger of fear at a human coming in at me from behind and I stop breathing.
‘Sorry.’ Alexi clears his throat and moves back to the side of me, seemingly picking up on the change in my body language and I blink at him in disbelief. Eyes glancing from the gun to him and back again sheepishly; confused for a moment that he would remember, and actually care enough to move. It knocks me off balance and I can’t stop blinking his way, unsure whether that was a genuine moment or a calculated one and it sends my stomach into hysteria.
I shouldn’t think about it.
Let it go Camilla. This is how he always starts messing with your head. Do not care!
He angles in to extend an arm along mine so his warmth is like a second skin, and adjusts the way I have the gun nestled in my hand, pulling it back slightly so it’s not so outstretched. I lose focus on the death machine and become fully aware of how he is touching me and leaning against me, igniting sensations that I am not welcoming.
He’s close enough to breathe him in and try as I might to look at the gun in my hand, I am overly aware of him right in against me as he directs. So close his face is almost pressed to mine, and even though he isn’t meant to be touching me, almost every part of his upper body is against me as he crouches to my height to see the way I am holding the gun.
My traitorous body tingling, igniting and jumping between fear and excitement in complete confusion … it’s crazily intimate even though it’s not meant to be.
Shit.
He still makes me hot and wanton.
I drop the gun in his hand and slide away as fast as I can, losing my nerve and back out of his space quickly. Knowing when I am too close to the sun to keep flying.
‘I can’t do this right now. I umm …’
I cannot think of a decent excuse to not have him pressed against me with a gun lesson. Alexi just regards me emotionlessly and butts in while I’m scrambling to get away.
‘I need you to be comfortable carrying this as soon as possible. Here.’ He ignores the weirdness of my behaviour and pulls out a strange strap looking concoction of leather and metal buckles, and that’s it—I am totally done.
‘Yeah, kinky is not on, baby. Get the fuck away from me.’ I make to leg it around his desk hurriedly, and Alexi eyerolls dramatically.
‘Fuck sake, Cam! It’s a holster. You wear it under your dress around your hips so the gun nestles there.’ He nods between my legs and I look down in alarm at the thigh gap I know is under there, alarmed that people would want to put it near their intimate parts. I am not really wanting that hunk of metal wedged in the entrance to my Vajayjay. Imagine if I tripped and fell.
Ouch!
‘I figured with the kind of clothes you wear this would be concealed and handy to reach should you ever need it.’
That actually stops me in my tracks; the fact he thought about this. Thought about me and how I could carry something to protect myself.
Stop caring!
‘You want me to carry that all the time?’ I don’t know what else to say, except start questioning to cover up the emotional meltdown I seem to be having; Pissed at myself for letting him knock me off kilter over a dumb bloody gun.
‘You were attacked right here under my nose, in my own domain—so yes, all the time.’ There’s bitterness to his statement.
‘Are you sure I am the most stable person to hand that thing to? How do you know I won’t shoot you?’
Or myself?
It’s meant as sarcasm but comes out more genuine than I intend, emotion cracking mid-sentence, and my eyes well up with a sudden overwhelming surge. Alexi’s face completely softens as he clicks why I might have a real issue with this.
Finally!
‘Because you didn’t when you had the chance, and if I thought you were emotionally unstable, I wouldn’t be doing this. I trust you.’
I almost faint at that revelation.
Now I know he is messing with my head and I shake mine at him as that moment of weakness is pushed away by the street-smart side. The part that almost fell for his little well played move blushes in shame as the rebel in me glares hatefully at her.
‘Sure you do. The worthless whore who would jump at the next offer and stab you in the back to get a step up in this world,’ I spit it out, reminding him of his own words bitterly, the sound of them coming back to haunt me and hate myself when a tear bites and fills my vision more successfully. I look away trying to shake the memory, hating that it’s only taken him less than two days, and he is already getting under my skin in a way I swore I would never let him again.
This was such a bad idea and I should just walk now before I get in too deep again. He’s obviously too good at this.
‘I should never have said those things to you. It’s not what I think anymore and I apologise … Now please, Cam … I need you to take this and let’s start again.’ He sounds soft and caring with that low husky tone, pitched sexily for effect.
It’s the impersonal delivery of the apology that makes me glare at him. The insincerity of it and now I know he’s only saying what he thinks I need to hear and putting no effort into it. He’s trying to rally me into what he wants me to do and using gentle words and tender expressions instead of force. A new tactic he’s learned in my absence no doubt.
I snatch up the gun and the holster and step away haughtily.
‘Pretty sure Mico can help. He is a proficient gun man, I hear. Thanks.’ I am not hanging around doing this and I turn to leave with my head on distance and space and getting Alexi’s feel off of my skin. I would rather take lessons with someone whose touch doesn’t remind me how much I miss having sex … with him.
Urghhh!
‘Are you going to find a fight in everything I do?’ It’s almost in exasperation, his voice losing the softness and instead he just sounds tired. Alexi the great sounds exhausted and it makes me falter as I leg it to the door; I turn back and glance his way.
I’m not prepared for the way he’s looking at me and for a moment I feel guilty … even though I have no reason to be. He’s eating me with his eyes, so pale and haunting under a furrowed brow that gives him a lost wounded boy look—a look of remorse that is probably not real; and something else. A longing that I don’t know what to place it on. Probably just for me to behave if I know him. The look spurs a moment of unveiled honesty from me by this mouth, which sometimes acts without thought and I cringe as it comes out.
‘I don’t trust you. I don’t want to be hurt by you again.’ It’s out breathily despite myself, and I look away when I realise I said it out loud to the one person you should never give emotional weapons to. I may as well throw myself out the window because I did what I swore I wouldn’t do—give him ammunition once more.
I’m such an idiot.