Worn Me Down

Chapter 19 Austin

“Okay, so, you’ve got your 9mm, your .22, your .38 Special, and your .357. You probably can’t handle anything more than that, so take your pick.”

Crossing my arms in front of me, I take a step back as Gwen looks through the display glass at the firing range for a gun she’ll like. After what happened yesterday, I’m not taking any chances with her safety. Brady will probably kill me for teaching his baby sister how to use a gun, but too fucking bad. I’ve left him a few messages and he hasn’t called me back.

Given her nasty ass temper, arming Gwen with a weapon probably isn’t the best idea, but I needed a distraction that only the shooting range can provide. I need to erase the picture of Gwen standing in my kitchen pulling the fixings for breakfast out of my fridge like she belonged there. I started thinking about lazy Sunday mornings and curling up on the couch with my two girls while we munched on pancakes.

And right there’s the fucking problem – they’re not my girls.

Even if they were, the lazy Sundays would be few and far between. There would just be two girls sitting at home alone wondering when the fuck I would be coming home from whatever mission I was on.

Time to think about something else, asshole.

We’ve been standing in the show room of the gun shop, which is attached to the firing range, for thirty minutes. I’ve gone over each firearm in detail ten times, and if she doesn’t pick one soon, I’m going to stomp my foot and throw a temper tantrum the likes of which even a woman with a kid has never seen.

“I want a pink one, Austin,” Gwen finally says, looking up from the case and straight at me.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She huffs out an irritated breath and mirrors my pose with her arms crossed in front of her.

“I said, I want a pink one. Where are the pink ones?”

I bite my lip so I don’t say something completely irrational like, “Are you fucking kidding me with this pink shit? Just pick a fucking gun already!” I take a deep breath and a step closer to her.

“This is a gun shop. A place where people come to pick out deadly weapons and then go out back to practice firing at deadly people. Pink does not equal deadly.”

Gwen takes a step closer to me as well until she’s right up in front of me with her hands on her hips and the subtle smell of her perfume is tickling my nose and making me want to lick her. My mind immediately fills with the sounds of her coming last night until I want to haul her into the closest room like a caveman and fuck her again. Unfortunately, the reminder that I didn’t use a condom overshadows all those wonderful thoughts. I didn’t use a fucking condom. What the hell was I thinking?

That nothing else mattered right then but getting inside of her.

Jesus Christ, what if she’s pregnant? Fantasizing about having her and Emma in my life for good is a far cry from it actually happening, and with a screaming baby in tow. It suddenly feels warm in here and I have to wipe a bead of sweat off of my forehead.

“I. Want. A. Pink. Gun,” she says softly, enunciating each word with a fierce gleam in her eyes.

She’s so tiny I could scoop her up with one arm and probably carry her in my pocket, but standing here right now, so determined with her hands on her hips and an attitude on her face, she looks ten feet tall. If I don’t give her what she wants, she’s going to find a fucking pink gun and shoot me in the balls with it.

“How about we just pick out a nice, shiny, black one for today, and when we’re done, I’ll order you a pink gun. I’ll even order you a pink holster with sparkles on it,” I beg her.

Normally, I could spend all day in the gun shop talking weapons with the owner and testing out new items. Using the words “pink” and “sparkles” in the same sentence at a fucking gun shop makes me want to puke in my mouth a little.

“Ooooooh, sparkles! Mommy, you should get a gun with sparkles!”

We both turn and look at Emma standing a few feet away from us, brushing the hair of another damn Barbie in her hand. No matter where I go, I can’t escape the Barbies. It’s like I’m in Barbie hell.

“Good idea, baby! Can I get a pink gun with sparkles too?” Gwen asks.

“Jesus H…YES! We can bedazzle any fucking thing in this store you want, just pick one!” I growl at her.

“Pay up, Mr. Austin,” Emma pipes up from right next to me.

Fucking hell.

I look down and she’s got her hand out, palm up, waiting for her payment. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and take out a twenty.

“Here, pipsqueak, I have a feeling your mother is going to cost me a lot of money today,” I tell her as she grabs the bill from my hand and shoves it into the front pocket of her jeans.

“Okay, fine,” Gwen finally says with a sigh. “I guess I’ll take that black and silver one right there.”

I lean over her shoulder and see that she’s pointing to a Kel-Tec 9mm.

“Good choice,” I tell her with a nod as I signal the owner so he can get it out of the case.

Gwen turns her face towards me and our noses are practically touching. I can feel her breath on my face and I know if I don’t move away, I’m going to be hard as a rock in two seconds. This woman drives me fucking insane, but she’s also hot as hell and the strongest person I’ve ever been around considering what her life has been like. Even though I don’t like the direction of my thoughts lately where Gwen’s concerned, there’s nothing this woman does that can’t turn me on.

“Since I can’t use a pink gun today, can I get a pair of those ear muff thingies in pink for when I’m shooting? And do they have those with sparkles?”

I take that back.

“If you want to test it out, my wife’s in the back room with a plate of fresh cookies. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a little company,” the owner tells us, nodding in Emma’s direction.

Just then, a nice, older woman of about fifty steps out of that room with a warm smile on her face. “I would love some company. I can’t eat all of these cookies by myself.”

Emma looks up at Gwen with a pleading look on her face.

“Okay, but just for a few minutes. And not too many cookies or you won’t eat your dinner,” Gwen tells her.

Emma races around the counter and the woman smiles at Gwen. “We’ll be right in here when you’re finished, take your time.”

Gwen thanks her and I grab her new gun off of the counter as well as a box of bullets. With a wink, the owner hands Gwen a pair of pink ‘ear muff thingies’ and we head out through the back door to the indoor range. I find us an empty booth and walk up to the counter, opening up the box of bullets and loading the gun.

“The first time you pull the trigger, it’s going to scare the shit out of you. This gun is small, but it still has a lot of kickback when it fires. Don’t try to aim with the first shot, just pull the trigger and get it over with,” I explain to her as I finish loading the gun and hand it to her after she finishes putting the shooting muffs over her ears.

“Is this the trigger thingy?” she asks, pointing to the safety.

“No, darlin’. That makes it so you don’t shoot someone in the face by accident,” I tell her in a placating voice.

This is why I don’t spend a lot of time with chicks after I sleep with them.

“Can you show me how to hold this thing? I don’t know how I’m supposed to stand,” she complains.

Walking behind her, I reach around and grab her elbows, bringing her arms up in front of her. I slide my hands down her arms until I’m holding onto her wrists to keep her arms steady.

I bend my head down until my mouth is right by her covered ear. “Now, spread your legs just a little.”

She does as I tell her and her ass brushes against my crotch. I force myself to think about crying babies and shitty diapers and why sleeping with her again is a bad idea as she leans back into me.

Wrapping my hands around hers, I help her aim the gun at the target ten yards away.

“That paper looks so far away. I’m never going to be able to hit that,” Gwen complains.

I don’t bother telling her that I can hit the bulls-eye every single time at twenty-five yards away; I don’t want to make her feel bad.

“You’ll be fine. Just take a deep breath and then pull the trigger when you let the air out,” I instruct.

I keep my arms around her, trying to hold her arms steady for her so she can just concentrate on firing. Keeping one hand around hers, I slowly move the other one to the top of the gun and pull back the slide release to drop a bullet into the chamber. Moving my hand back around hers, I wait for her to pull the trigger.

I feel her take a deep breath and then the gun goes off, Gwen’s body jerking back against mine. We both lower our arms and stare down the lane at the target. There isn’t a hole anywhere on the paper, which means she completely missed the thing.

“It’s alright. I didn’t hit the target the first time I ever shot a gun either. You just need a little more practice,” I tell her.

“I want to try again,” she tells me.

“Do you want me to help you?” I ask, moving closer to her and resting my hands on her hips.

Aiming the gun at the ground, she quickly pulls the slide release back like a pro and loads another bullet before bringing the gun back up in front of her. She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles. “Nope, I think I’ve got it.”

I warily take a step back and cross my arms, wondering how the hell she was able to pull that release back so perfectly the first time – those bastards can be tricky. She positions her legs shoulder-width apart, takes a deep breath and fires, the bullet ripping through the red bulls-eye in the middle.

My mouth drops open in shock and my hands fall to my sides as she quickly drops another bullet in the chamber, aims the gun and fires once more.

Just like before, the bullet hits the bulls-eye, this time a centimeter away from the first hole. She pulls the release back one more time and fires off a third shot, the hole from the bullet blossoming in between the other two.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as she sets the gun down on the counter, takes off the pink muffs and turns around to face me.

“You totally just played me, didn’t you?” I ask her in awe.

Gwen laughs, walking up to me and patting me on the shoulder. “Did you honestly think Brady wouldn’t have taught me how to use a gun when I got here? My favorite color is pink, but that doesn’t mean I can’t shoot a fucking gun.”

And just like that, my dick is hard. Again.

She walks away from me with a smile on her face and all I can do is shake my head.