Hands-On Training Read online

  Trista turned to face the target—feet together, pistol held in both hands with arms fully extended at shoulder height. “Like this?”

  “Not quite.” Blake lifted his hand, then stopped. “Do you mind if I touch you? It's easier to show you than to tell you.”

  Now you're talking.

  “Go ahead.” She had to fight to keep the grin off her face. “If you think it will help.”

  Her pulse quickened as Blake went around to stand in back of her. Without a word, he placed his boot in between her feet, gently nudging them apart. When she automatically spread her legs, he slipped one of his between her thighs to widen her stance. When she'd said she wanted Blake between her legs, this wasn't what she'd had in mind. Not that she was complaining. She’d take him any way she could get him.

  He wrapped his arms around her and clasped her hands in his. He was so big and strong she couldn’t help but feel tiny in his embrace, and it was all she could do not to moan as the hard planes of his chest pressed against her back. She knew he was only demonstrating the proper stance to help her shoot better, but at the moment, all she really cared about was how the contours of his body fit hers.

  “See how much more stable you are in this position?” Blake’s voice was right next to her ear. “Wider is always better.”

  She couldn't agree more. “I see that now.”

  Unable to help herself, she pushed her ass back until she brushed against something firm and unyielding. She was pretty sure it wasn't his belt buckle.

  “Relax your arms some,” he instructed. “Your shoulders are really tense.”

  She obeyed, wiggling back a little more as she let her arms relax. This time, her ass definitely met with resistance. If that was his cock she was rubbing up against and not a weapon of another sort, then Blake wasn't quite as professional as he wanted her to think. Or at least a certain part of his anatomy wasn't.

  “I know you won't be able to think about breathing in a crisis situation. But right now, let's focus on good technique.” His voice was smooth as honey in her ear. “Take a deep breath and hold it.”

  She inhaled, letting the air fill her lungs—and expand her breasts quite nicely. From where he stood looking over her shoulder, Blake would have had to be oblivious to miss the view down her blouse as she put on her best heaving-bosom routine.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  He tightened his arms around her, pulling her back against him. Oh, yeah. That was definitely his cock back there. He was getting harder by the second.

  “Now, just squeeze your finger gently on the trigger,” he commanded. “It should surprise you when it goes off.”

  She slowly pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a distinct click.

  “That was perfect. You didn't flinch at all,” he said. “Let's try it now with the clip loaded.”

  Trista almost groaned in disappointment when he moved away from her to load the magazine of her 9mm. She leaned her hip against the counter and watched as he worked. Damn, he had some nice hands. She could just imagine what they’d feel like roaming over her naked body.

  When he was done, he held out a set of hearing protection— the kind that cut out almost all the sound.

  She frowned as she took the earmuffs. “I won't be able to hear your instructions with these on. Shouldn’t we use the foamy things.”

  His mouth quirked. “The foam earplugs, you mean? No. The earmuffs muffle the sound better. Don’t worry. I'll be right behind you, guiding you by touch. All you have to do is focus on the target.”

  Like she was going to be able to focus on anything with him touching her. That silly paper target positioned halfway down the shooting range was going to be the last thing on her mind.

  After he was once again standing behind her, Blake leaned close to her ear for one last set of instructions before she put the muffs in place. “You have a full magazine, but I want you to take your time and try to make every shot perfect.”

  She picked up her Lady Smith 9mm and sighted in on the target. Having all that rock-hard muscle pressed up against her was even more distracting than it’d been before, and her hands began to shake. Blake immediately wrapped his arms around her, his hands supporting her wrists—which only made her tremble more. The way the inside of his arms pressed against the sides of her breasts was doing all sorts of delicious things to her body.

  Trista relaxed back, subtly rubbing her ass against his erection. Blake didn’t pull away. If anything, he tugged her a little closer. He was trying to seduce her.

  Hot damn.

  She forced herself to focus enough to actually aim in the general direction of the target and squeezed out a shot. She didn't give a damn where the bullet hit, but she did use the recoil as an excuse to bump her ass back into Blake's hard-on. She took a breath and held it, then pulled the trigger again. When she leaned back against him this time, she gently rotated her ass in blatant invitation. Blake must have approved because he slid his hands down her bare arms until his fingertips brushed the sides of her breasts. The contact was teasing, questioning, as if he wanted to make sure this was what she wanted.

  Man, this was so what she wanted.

  Keeping her pistol pointed in a safe direction, she turned her head until their eyes met. The heat in his made her pulse skyrocket. She wanted to say something flirty and suggestive, but she’d have to shout to be heard over the ear protection they wore, and that wouldn’t be very sexy at all. So instead, gaze still locked with his, she slowly and deliberately grazed his scuff-roughened jaw line with her lips. That must have been good enough for Blake. When she turned back to send another 9mm downrange, he slid his hands under her breasts to cup them through her shirt. Needless to say, that round went wide of the target. Hell, she wasn't sure she even hit the wall behind it. She didn’t care. She was just happy he’d finally gotten the message she’d been sending his way.

  She took a deep breath, letting her breasts fill Blake's big hands. She thought she might have moaned, but she couldn’t tell over her earmuffs. She doubted her shooting instructor had, either. That was okay. She’d make sure he knew exactly how much she enjoyed what he was doing later.

  Behind her, Blake bent to nuzzle her neck. His mouth was warm on her skin, and she tipped her head to the side to give him plenty of room. Steadying the weapon, she squeezed off a lazy shot at the target and hit it dead center. Hmm, nothing like getting her breasts fondled to improve her focus.

  She loved a man who knew how to use his mouth, and Blake certainly fell into that category. His lips on her neck were doing crazy things to her body, and she shivered as goose bumps chased over her skin. And when he traced his tongue along the pulse line of her jugular all the way from her collar bone up to her ear? Well, she just about melted. She was on the verge of dropping her Smith and Wesson when a sharp nip of teeth brought her back to reality. She tried to get herself under control, but she couldn't. She was already drunk from the first little touch.

  She let her head fall back, silently begging him for more. And more was exactly what he gave her. Oh God, could a woman have a neckgasm? If his mouth felt that good there, what was it going to feel like on her nipples? Or her pussy? She trembled at the thought.

  She was so caught up in what Blake was doing above the collar of her shirt she almost didn’t realize he’d started unbuttoning it until she felt cool air on her skin. Her heart beat faster. He stopped halfway from the bottom to motion toward the target with his chin.

  Trista blinked. He wanted her to keep shooting? Was he nuts? She was so blurry-eyed from excitement she was starting to worry about their safety. But he was insistent, nudging her again.

  She lifted her 9mm and took a deep breath, doing her best to lock her eyes on the man-shaped silhouette hanging from the cable. The task was made more difficult by the fact that Blake had finished with the buttons on her shirt and had wrapped his hands around her satin-covered breasts. She hadn't thought her shirt had been that thick, but the increase in sensation let
her know that was a lie. Her nipples tightened almost painfully against her bra.

  Blake gave her a sharp nip on the neck to put her back on task. She lifted her head, took another breath and held it, then squeezed off a shot at the head of the target.

  Hmm, another hit. She’d better be careful, or Blake might catch on to her game.

  She didn't have to worry about that. He’d already turned his attention back to her breasts. As he did that devastating neck-nibble thing again, he popped the clasp on the front of her bra. Oh yeah, she loved a man who could multi-task. She put a round in the dirt a foot in front of the target just as Blake eagerly pushed the cups of her bra aside and captured her breasts. His thumbs and forefingers immediately found her nipples and tweaked them.

  Trista moaned. God, that felt so good.

  She wanted to say the hell with target practice and strip off her shirt and bra so he could latch his mouth on her aching breasts, but she still had three bullets left. Blake wouldn't let her get away with not shooting all of them.

  She leaned back against Blake's chest so completely she probably would have fallen on her ass if he'd moved suddenly. Not that she figured he'd do that—he seemed to be having too much fun having his way with her breasts. He alternated between massaging them and squeezing her nipples, sometimes doing both at the same time. It was enough to drive her crazy.

  Eager to empty the gun, Trista pointed it in the general direction of the target and yanked the trigger. Jerking on it like that played hell with her accuracy, but she didn't give a crap. She had two more rounds to get down the barrel—then she was going to physically attack Blake. He’d better have an extra uniform in his car because she was going to rip the one he was wearing to shreds.

  Then Blake pulled a move that kicked her excitement level up a country mile. He took his left hand from her breast and slid it down her bare tummy and into the waist of her jeans. He couldn't get that big hand of his as far as she would have liked—she wore her jeans tight—but the tips of his fingers still found their way into her panties and grazed the top of her pussy. She barely even noticed as the 9mm jumped in her hand, sending a bullet in a direction that might have been in the same zip code as the target, but she wasn’t sure. Good thing there was a backstop wall down there or her bullet would still be going.

  Blake let out a growl of frustration so loud she could hear it through her earmuffs. Didn't like her tight jeans, huh? She smiled to herself as he dropped his right hand down to join his left at her belt and ripped open the buttons on her jeans.

  The slider of her 9mm locked to the rear as she put her last round through the center of the target. Despite being nearly insane with need, she still possessed enough sense to carefully place the empty weapon back on the counter. She immediately tried to turn around in Blake's embrace so she could rip off his uniform, but her hot cop was having none of that. He grabbed hold of the front of her jeans to keep her still, then slid his hand inside her panties. She whimpered as his finger slid along the wet folds of her pussy. The muted sound reminded her that she still had her earmuffs on—Blake had already taken off his, though when he’d done it, she had no idea. She reached up to tear off her muffs and toss them on the floor.

  Blake used his free hand to push her jeans over her hips. She would have helped, but his finger moving in and out of her wetness made that impossible. She had to cling to the counter with both hands to keep from falling to her knees.

  But Blake was just as talented undressing her as he was with a handgun. He had her jeans down faster than she would have thought possible and was already starting in on her panties. When they were down around her ankles, he bent her over so she was leaning across the counter. Her breath hitched as his finger dipped in her pussy. Crap, she was wet. The palm of his hand pressed firmly against her clit even as the other cupped her bare ass. She pushed back against him with a moan, urging him to keep doing what he was doing.

  He complied, massaging her ass cheeks with one hand while he fingered her pussy with the other. God, his touch was magic. She was already on her way to an orgasm and they hadn't even kissed yet.

  But Blake had other ideas. He slid his hand across her ass, around her hip and up her stomach, lingering briefly on her breast before moving up to her shoulder so he could pull her back against his chest.

  “You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he rasped in her ear.

  She purred as he palmed her breast again. Oh yeah, Blake was a breast man, through and through. “I have? You didn’t let on.”

  He rolled her nipple between his fingers with a pressure that bordered on rough. How had he known she liked it that way? “And it damn near killed me.”

  She rotated her hips, generating even more friction between the palm of his hand and her clit. She was this close to climax.

  Blake pressed his lips to her neck. “I’m going to make you come like this.”

  Trista made a mewing sound, unable to speak.

  “Do it,” he ordered. “Come for me.”

  The warmth of his breath combined with the caress of his Texas twang carried the soft command straight to her core. Oh damn, his voice did it for her.

  Her orgasm started as a gentle wave, focused entirely around her clit at first, then flowing out to envelop her pussy, before finally spreading to her tummy and upper thighs.

  Blake lifted her right breast high, squeezing her nipple deliciously hard. It was like an electrical connection had been suddenly completed, and her climax expanded outward like a nova, washing over her. She yowled like a cougar in heat, stars exploding in her vision, her body thrashing violently under his touch. If Blake hadn't been holding her, she would have toppled to the floor of the shooting range.

  But he held her steady, working her orgasm like a living thing, stretching it out and nudging it higher until couldn’t take any more. Somehow, he knew exactly when it was about to be too much, and pulled his finger out before it got there. Spinning her around, he buried one hand in her hair and covered her mouth with his in a soul-searing kiss.

  Trista clutched his shoulders, holding on for dear life as his tongue tangled with hers. Was there a better way to come down from a seriously intense orgasm like the one she’d just had than wrapped in a big cop's arms as he kissed her senseless?

  After he had her completely and totally dizzy, he broke the kiss and pulled back to look at her. “I think we somehow lost focus on the actual purpose of this target shooting lesson.”

  “You don't see me complaining, do you?”

  Smiling up at him playfully, she slipped out of her top and bra, then started undoing the buttons on his uniform shirt. The material was starched so heavily she had a hard time working them open.

  His mouth quirked. “No. But then again, I'm not sure you were paying much attention to anything. You were kind of distracted.”

  She undid another button. “Maybe a little. But I love having my breasts squeezed like you were doing. Not to mention having my pussy fingered.”

  He ran his strong hands down her back to rest on her ass. The mere touch made her body start vibrating again. “Well, now that I’m no longer doing either of those things, are you ready to focus on shooting again?”

  Trista blinked up at him, her fingers stilling on the button in her hand. Blake couldn't seriously want to go back to shooting?

  Not if that big bulge in his uniform pants pressing insistently against her belly had something to say about it. No way in hell was Blake thinking about anything other than fucking her senseless.

  You wouldn't know it by the look on his face, though. He was either a damn good actor, or playing hard to get. Well, she knew how to play that game. And she knew exactly how to win.

  Chapter Three

  Trista abandoned the stubborn buttons of his shirt and slid her hands down the hard wall of his chest past his heavy gear belt until they rested firmly on his trouser-covered cock. Gazing up at him with what she hoped was a neutral expression, she slowly massaged him through the thick fa
bric. It wouldn't feel anywhere near as good as it would if he were naked—a fact he’d learn soon enough—but it was a start.

  Blake lifted a brow, as if waiting for her to say something. But she remained silent, appraising him instead, looking for a sign she was breaking through that cool, manly cop exterior.

  His hands tightened around on her ass and she felt his cock pulse just a little in his pants. As signs went, it wasn't a signal flare, but it was enough for her. She grabbed the buckle of his big belt and yanked it hard.

  Blake made a noise that sounded distinctly like a groan. Oh yeah, he wanted it.

  It was tough get the thick leather belt to work with her, so it took way too long to get the damn thing undone. It didn't help that Blake just stood there and watched her go at it. But persistence paid off and a moment later, she finally unzipped his pants, revealing the outline of a truly impressive cock in tight briefs. Trista would have preferred to shove his pants completely down to his knees and get that erection fully out in the open, but it wasn't time for that yet.

  Instead, she slid one hand in the waistband of his underwear and wrapped it around his shaft. She massaged him slowly, looking him in the eyes the whole time. All while trying not to let him see how thrilled she was with the bulk of the weapon she held. She’d thought he’d be well-endowed, but wow.

  Precum wet the front of his briefs at the tip of his penis, and she used it to lubricate her fingers as she made tiny circles on the head of his shaft. Blake’s breathing came a little faster.

  She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw right where it met his ear. “Maybe we could put the shooting lesson on hold for a little while, and focus on something else I'm sure we'd both like even more? What do you think?”

  “Mmm. I don't know. I really like target shooting.”

  “More than this?” She squeezed his cock firmly.

  His breath hitched. “Maybe.”

  Time to call his bluff maybe. She slowly took her hand away. “Okay. I guess we can pop a few more caps then.”