Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
My hands were shaking as they held his hard biceps. AK stepped back, then back again, ripping the tie from his hair. His dark hair tumbled forward as he picked up the gun from the ground. “Again,” he ordered and handed me back the gun. I wanted to protest. I wanted to leave the gun and bring him back to me, have his tongue and taste in my mouth. But then it occurred to me.
He had stopped.
No man had ever done that before in my life.
“Shoot,” AK said, his voice still thick with need. I lifted the gun and took up the position he had shown me before. He tapped my ankles with the tip of his boot. “Wider. It’ll stop you from falling so bad this time.”
I did as he said, lining up the gun to the target, feeling him beside me once more. And as I shot the bullet out, I smiled at the subtle, intimate touches he used to guide me. I braced for the kickback this time, glad when I firmly held my ground. I looked at the tree. I had chipped the base of the target. “I hit it!”
He gave me a smile, and the sight stole all the air from my lungs. He was so handsome that he caused my heart to ache. “You got closer than before, but you won’t be winning any prizes with that. We’re going again.”
And that was how the day went. At least until I grew too tired and we had to head back to the cabin. AK cooked on the grill while I lounged in a reclining chair. When we had eaten, I was exhausted, the remnants of the drink still stealing my energy. I rested my head against the cushions of the chair, and slipped into sleep.
When I awoke, the sun was setting, the sky streaked with pink and orange. I blinked as I looked around me for AK. He sat in the same spot as he had most days, only this time there were two pairs of black boots in front of him. Both appeared well worn, and both were pitted with dirt. Knowing he had not seen me looking, I was about to ask him to whom those boots belonged when I suddenly caught the expression on his face. It was . . . sad. No, that was not a strong enough word to describe what his face was conveying. It was pain incarnate, a visage racked with such sorrow it made me ache.
I watched from the dark sanctuary of the chair as he took one pair of the boots in his trembling hands. They were the most worn pair of the two. When he pulled them into his chest and closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking, I almost jumped from my seat and ran to him. To comfort him. To make sure he was okay.
But I did not think that would be welcomed. So I let him be. I stayed quiet as he held the boots to his chest for several minutes, before placing them, so painstakingly slowly, on his lap. He reached for a cloth beside him, and I saw the track marks of tears on his cheeks.
Tears of my own blossomed in my eyes. He was such a formidable male, so big and strong, that the sight of him crying was more than I could bear. AK began cleaning the boots in silence. I kept my eyes hooded, eyelids leaden, so he would believe me asleep. He methodically cleaned both pairs of boots until they were gleaming. When they were done, he stared at them for so long that I worried I would have to show I was awake or sleep here all night.
But then AK got to his feet. He glanced over at me, and I quickly shut my eyes. I heard him stepping toward me. I felt him stop beside me and crouch down. I evened out my breathing, trying to keep up the pretense of sleep. Gently, he ran his hand over my hair. His warm breath blew across my skin. Then, shocking me completely, he brushed a gentle kiss on my cheek. Such a chaste, loving gesture. The sweetness of the act set off a swirl of emotions inside me.
Emotions I was not familiar with. Emotions I did not understand.
AK moved away. I cracked my eyes open a fraction and watched as he took both sets of boots in his hands. Slowly, he walked to the front door of the cabin. He bent down and placed one pair of boots on one side of the mat on the floor. Then, more carefully, almost reverently, he placed the second pair down on the opposite side of the mat. He stood and stared down at the boots. They looked so perfectly situated at the door, as though both the occupants lived happily inside the house. AK pushed through the door and shut himself inside. I waited several minutes before I moved. I looked to where he had been sitting and saw all the guns were now clean, as was the trunk. I approached the door.