Chapter 67: Bang, Bang

Tuesday morning, after sitting through another workout, I mustered up my balls, and asked Jon if I could have the morning off. “Ang and I want to go shooting,” I said, cringing at the lambasting I’m sure I’d get. Either that, or the relentless razzing about not being able to handle him. Truth be told, I like him and all, but damn, I’ve spent more time with him than anyone else but David. And most of the hours with David we were asleep!

“Shooting?” Jon raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah, ‘shooting’. She and I were talking on the boards, and thought it would be a fun couple of hours. I’ve got my nine mil downstairs, and…”

Jon interrupted. “You have a GUN with you?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“Did you have one when you came to Newark?”

I laughed. “No, boss. I’m not one of those NRA members who has to be armed all the time.” I shook my head. “Nope, I have physical self-defense skills; I don’t need to carry to feel safe.”

He still eyeballed me warily. Glad I could still surprise him.

“What?” I asked. “I’ve been shooting for years, rifles mostly. I’ve had training, safety classes and shoot on a pretty regular basis to keep my skills up. I actually toyed with trying out for the Olympic team until I saw how GOOD those other ladies were. I can get most of my shots near the ten-ring; they get them all through the same damned hole.”

“You’re admitting to something you aren’t good at?”

“Darlin’, I suck at a lot of things,” I said, chuckling, and making him smile. “So how ‘bout it?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said almost too quickly. “But I’m going to need you at sound check again tonight. I’ll have Tony give you something real to do.” He smiled at me. “Don’t want you to think you’re DONE done.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss,” I said, rolling my eyes. I grabbed my Blackberry and called Ang. “Hey, it’s Goddess.”

“What’s up, honey?”

“Boss gave me the morning off; wanna go blow shit up?” Jon laughed at me.

“Hell yeah,” Ang said. “I’ll have Lucy give me directions, and you come pick me up.”

“I just need to jump in the shower and change; I’ll be there in 45 minutes,” I said. “Can you call them and see what they have for club guns? I’ve got the nine mil, but if they have a rifle or two, maybe we can have ourselves a shoot-off.”

“You’re on,” Ang said, delighted.

Jon finished his run, I gave him his water and towel, a bit miffed that this was starting to become second nature, and we left, me opening the door for him. After I rang for the elevator, and Jon got in, I pressed the button for his floor and made to jump out.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stopping the doors from closing

“I’m taking the stairs down; I don’t like elevators,” I said.

Jon rolled his eyes at me. “I don’t them either, but I suck it up,” he answered, and grabbed my arm and pulled. “You can too. Get your ass in here.”

I white-knuckled the railing and counted off the seconds in my head. To get from 34 down to 22 took 43 seconds. Not too bad, but still 43 seconds too long.

Jon disappeared into his room, and I let myself into ours. “Hey sexy Momma,” David called from the kitchen. “You don’t have to cook breakfast for Boss this morning?” He came out with two mugs of coffee; his full, mine half.

“Nope,” I said, smiling, and taking my mug from him. “Ang and I are going shooting this morning.”

David thought a minute. “Can I come?”

I shrugged. “Sure, if you want to.”

“I want to be wherever you’re gonna be.” He smiled wryly. “I feel you’ve seen more of Jon than me.”

I reached for David’s pants. “Now, baby, I’ve seen ALL of you, and that’s way more than I wanna see of him.” I kissed him. “Seriously, though, I didn’t want to say anything to him because I don’t want him ragging on me, but I agree. He almost seemed almost grateful that I had something else I wanted to do.” I shook my head. “Apparently, he agrees, but didn’t want to say anything either.” I chuckled. “We are so much alike, it’s kinda unnerving.”

David shook his head. “Sam and I were talking about that,” he said. “She thinks that except for the age difference, you two could have been separated at birth.” I laughed at that, and he continued. “We think you guys work well together, and are enjoying this little arrangement.”

I thought about it. “Really, it hasn’t been too bad, Friday notwithstanding. I still hate driving in cities, so that’s a pain in my ass, and I swear, he just has me drive around simply to annoy me.” David’s smile let me know I was dead on. “I’m not thrilled about making his breakfast and lunch when we’re not going out, but he isn’t that bad. Way better than I thought he would be.” I sighed. “I need to go grab a shower and get dressed.”

“I’m coming with you,” David said, putting down his coffee mug.

“Of course you are,” I answered, and walked away, stripping my t-shirt over my head on the way.

I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it, and stripped off the rest of my clothes. David wasn’t far behind me in the getting naked department. One good thing about the hotel bathroom was there was a tub, not a stall, so there was plenty of room for both of us in there. I stood under the water, and let it run over me. I tipped my head back to wet my hair, and David leaned in to kiss my neck. He pulled me up against him, his arousal already pressing into my leg. I looked back up at him, my wet spiky eyelashes framing eyes I knew were smoldering for him. He turned us so he had his back to the water, and wet his own hair before kissing me hungrily. He backed me against the wall, and I squeaked as the cold tile pressed into my back.

David murmured “sorry, baby,” and turned me so I could brace my hands against the wall. He lifted one of my legs so my foot was propped on to the side of the tub, exposing me to him, and started to fondle me. He leaned in close, and I turned my head to capture his mouth in a kiss. His other strong hand circled my neck, holding me still, his thumb caressing my jaw.

While his mouth plundered mine, he slipped into me slowly, stretching me. His hands moved to cup my breasts, his long fingers plucking and pulling at my nipples until I was on fire. I purred and arched my back, changing the angle slightly. He picked up the pace, slapping into me. My breathing became more ragged, and keeping my head turned to him was taking more muscle control than I had. I broke the kiss, and dropped my forehead to the tile.

David’s hands dropped to my hips, and gripped tightly. I turned then to look at him, and he was a vision. The cords on his neck were standing out, his hair was all slicked back, and his head was thrown back in pleasure. He looked at me then, as if he could sense me looking at him. “I love you,” he said, as he pumped into me.

“I love you more,” I said as I felt the familiar wonderful tightening. “David,” I said on a breath, my voice leaving me as the waves started building. He stopped moving then, and I thought I was going to cry. He slipped from me and turned me around, leaning me against the wall again. This time, I put my own foot up on the ledge, and greedily pulled him to me. He slid in easily and mashed his mouth to mine. The room started to tilt and I screamed; David swallowing my cry. I felt him tighten his hold on me, and he groaned and broke the kiss to bite my neck as he came.

“Oh!” I sighed, as I felt his teeth sink into me. It wasn’t hard, but it was different; he hadn’t bitten me before. That extra bit of sensation had me tensing again even as he started to slip from me. He could tell, though that I was gearing up again, because he replaced his cock with his fingers and drove them up into me until I thought I would split in two. He still didn’t move his mouth, so I had to muffle my scream this time with my own fist. When I came back down, David looked sheepishly at me.

“Sorry, baby,” he said and kissed my neck gently. “I may have left a mark.”

I groaned. “Well, hell, I was already branded yours, you didn’t have to do it again,” I said.

“Yeah, but you liked it,” David teased.

“Oh yeah,” I said, giggling. David picked up the soap and washed me, then I returned the favor. We washed each other’s hair, too, then rinsed and got out of the shower. We were dressed and out of there 5 minutes later, and on the way to Lucy’s.

* * * * *

Almost exactly 45 minutes later, we were pulling up in front of Lucy’s house. I had the gun locked up in the trunk along side my shooting bag. I was excited. This was going to be fun. We let ourselves in, and saw everyone but Richie in the living room, and David burst out laughing. Ang and I were both wearing desert fatigue pants and drab green tanks. I had on one of David’s black button-down shirts over it, and Ang had gray. Where I had shit-kicker boots on, Ang had gorgeous leather biker boots buckled up over her pant legs.

“Well, aren’t we a pair,” Ang said, hugging me. She pulled back to look at my neck. “Jesus, Hath.”

“What?” I said, blushing. “I was just standing there. It’s his fault,” I said, jerking my head at David.

Ang rolled her eyes and hugged him too. “What are you doing here? Richie isn’t up yet.”

“I’m going with you guys,” he said, smiling.

“Going where?” Lucy said, as she came out of the kitchen. She took in the two of us and burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, you’re gonna go play Rambette. Nice bite, Hath.”

“Why is this my doing? I didn’t ask David to vamp on me!” I kissed him hard. “I liked it, though,” I said laughing, “a lot,” and the girls just groaned. “We’re gonna go shoot stuff. Wanna come?”

Lucy shook her head. “Nah, Richie’s still in bed,” she said. “We're just gonna hang out and relax.”

“We’ll be back for lunch,” I said.

“Good,” David said. “Because Jon’ll probably want you to cook for him again.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “and he’ll want something stupid, and I’ll have to go out to the store.”

“C’mon,” Ang said, “Let’s get going.”

Ang and I sat in the back seat and gossiped all the way to the range.

“What are you two talking about back there,” David said, grinning in the rearview mirror.

“You,” we both said at the same time, making him laugh.

“What about me,” he said.

“Oh, stuff that’d make you blush,” I said, touching my neck. Suddenly, I had an awful thought. “Oh no,” I said. “Jon is going to give me shit about this,” I said, pointing to my love bite.

“Yep, he is,” Ang agreed.

Shit.

* * * * * * *

When we got to the range, we were met by a tall drink of water called Ryan. He was easily 6’7” tall, rail thin and shaggy blonde with hazel eyes. Why did I notice? Because he’s so freaking BIG. That and because he laughed at Ang and me. Now, in his defense, we did look a little crazy, but still, it’s never a good idea to laugh at girls with guns. He asked us if we were for real. As real as it gets baby. I opened my gun case (the manicured nails didn’t help his opinion of us any) and drew out the 9mm I had nestled in there. His eyes widened. He knew this was a serious weapon, not a little dainty ‘girl gun’ like a Derringer. He looked at us with new eyes, and led us into the bowls of the club.

If you haven’t had the pleasure of going to a club before, here’s the scoop. They’re typically low-slung, one-story buildings with a basement and sub-basement. The sub-basement isn’t accessible to the public; that’s where the club guns and ammo are stored. The basement is where the indoor rifle/handgun range is. It’s a long room (about 100 yards long) with a steel-reinforced concrete bunker at the far end. At the near side is a series of 4’ wide padded countertops for shooters to put their gear on. Each counter is attached to a door that swings into the room in the event you want to shoot prone.

Between each countered area is a partition, so the brass ejecting from your gun doesn’t hit the person next to you. Overhead is a line system (sort of like an automatic garage door opener) with a metal clasp on it, for holding your target. Mounted high on the right-hand partition is a panel with two buttons, one to send the little target sailing down the track, the other to bring it back. There’s an extensive exhaust and fan system, and I wasn’t worried in the slightest about the cordite hurting the LJs. It’d be sucked away before it could make any difference.

Ryan showed us how the gear worked, though it was all pretty much the same, and he disappeared downstairs to get Ang a .22, and brought back a couple Remmies (that’s Remington rifles to you). He brought David ear- and eye- protection, too. “Let me know when you want to fire the fifty,” he said, and left us alone.

I spent a few minutes showing off my baby. I slid the action open to verify the chamber was empty, slammed home an empty clip, closed the action, and engaged the safety; all in a smooth, fluid series of motions. Ang saw there was a holster in the case, and asked to try her on. I clipped the holster onto the back of her pants, so it’d be nestled in the small of her back. I slid the gun into it, and tested the weight. She liked the feel of it, and David hadn’t taken his eyes off of us yet. This was serious, though, and not the time or place for flirting, so unless he had questions, we weren’t talking.

From the look on his face, though, he didn’t know whether to be turned on by chicks with guns, or to run because we were armed and dangerous.

I loaded a clip and sent a target about halfway down the wire highway. Fifty yards is the best I can do with a handgun.

“Live range,” I called out (which is my habit, and the rule in my local club). I took a deep breath, assumed my stance, tilted my head a little to the left, and sighted the target. We were using circles; silhouettes are typically not allowed. With about a second between pulls, I emptied all ten rounds. When the clip was spent, I ejected it, called out “all clear”, flipped the safety on and brought back the target.

“Not bad,” Ang said, looking at my target. The shots were all within the 8-ring. Not my best showing, but not bad is right.

I handed her the gun, butt first of course, and she loaded her clip and did her thing. I was refilling my clip, ready to go another round, and David was staring. I couldn’t read his face, but I think this new facet of my life was fascinating. “Why is she using your gun?” he asked.

I smiled. “It’s way more powerful than the little 22. Ang likes her toys powerful,” I said winking.

When Ang emptied the clip, I went to look at her target. In the 9-ring. Hmmm. She stuck her tongue out at me, and that was it. Throw down time.

“Let’s go, then,” I said, and the match was on. This time we were going to do prone rifle shooting. We sent a pair of targets 100 yards down range, lowered them, and opened the doors. We retrieved mats from the side of the room, and got on the floor. We loaded our single shot, bolt action, borrowed rifles, cocked and locked, and I looked to Ang.

“Ladies first,” I graciously offered.

Ang just looked at me. “Right and what are you, then?”

Jesus, does she not know me? “I am a Goddess,” I said, winking, which earned me a snort.

Ang went first and the little whisper as the shot went off was music to my ears. We traded shots until we were all out. I noticed that every time I’d lean up on my elbow to ratchet the bolt action, David would inch closer to me. The rifle empty, I turned to him.

“Hell man, you wanna try?”

David nodded. “Hell yeah,” he said.

He prone next to me, which ordinarily would be distracting, but I was all business: showing David where the safety was, how load the thing, and changing the target at the end of the range. When David put the butt of the rifle up to his shoulder, I straddled his hips and leaned onto his back to adjust his position. I didn’t even think twice about it. It’s how the trainer I work with (a woman, thank you very much) adjusts me when I’m screwing up. I could tell David was holding his breath, and sure enough, when he squeezed one off, he missed entirely. “Don’t hold your breath when you squeeze it,” I coached.

“You’ve got to get off me then, darlin’,” he said. “I can’t concentrate with you on me like that.” I blushed and scooted off to one side. His next shot was a good one. He let a few more go, then we compared our targets. Ang and I did about the same, and David didn’t do too badly.

“Let’s find Ryan,” I said. We went back upstairs, and found him in the office, swearing at the computer.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Fucking computer is pissing me off,” he said.

“Want a hand?” I asked him.

”Have at it,” he said, and pushed away from the desk. I took a look at the program he was trying to use, made a couple of minor adjustments to some of the settings, and had him try again. He was a happy puppy now.

So, Ryan, you still willing to let us handle Bertha?” I asked. He was surprised that I called her by her name. I just laughed. “I have one at home.” He nodded and went into the office to what I supposed was his personal safe, and brought her back. Oh, they’re menacing looking and BIG. Ang’s eyes went wide, and I know I had a goofy smile on my face. Sorry, can’t help it, this was going to be FUN! He handed it to me and I cradled it in my arms. “What can we shoot?” I knew the range on this thing, and paper wasn’t going to cut it. Most places were particular with what you could shoot.

Oh, and this was definitely an outside toy.

Ryan pulled a gallon of water from the freezer. Excellent. “Just one?” I asked, and he laughed.

“One to start,” he said, “for each of you.”

We went out to the outdoor range, which is basically a big field with a mountain of dirt and steel at the far end of it. Wicked fah. I put Bertha in the range box, turned on the flashing light and horn, and we loaded up in the golf cart. David looked at me. “Are you serious?” Yep. We were going out about 3000 yards. I was not up for walking a mile round trip right now.

“Hell yeah,” I answered.

We went back and Ryan was waiting. “Who’s first?” he asked. Ang smiled and he handed her a round. If you haven’t seen a .50 caliber round before, it’s about 5 inches long, and weighs a good half pound. A box of them is almost prohibitively heavy.

Ryan showed Ang how to load the round and sighted the thing in for her. He got her positioned right on the bench, set up the bipod on the table, and stood back. Ang pulled the trigger, and the sound was loud. The recoil took her by surprise, and her shoulder jerked back a little. She checked downrange with the field glasses (fancy term for military binoculars, btw) and smiled. She smoked her ice target.

My turn.

I had done this before, countless times, so I loaded and sighted her in myself. I cocked and locked, and looked through the scope for my target. “C’mon, baby,” I said. “C’mon baby, c’mon baby, c’mon baby, GOTCHA!” I said, and smiled, then I eased the trigger home. I absorbed the recoil like it was a blink, and confirmed the kill (ha ha). Two for two.

David took his shot, and we were three for three. He was grinning like a fool. “You have one of these?” he asked me.

I nodded. “Yep. I don’t even wanna think of the paperwork for moving guns across state lines when I move in. You got room for my gun safe?”