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They may as well crown him with some fucking ridiculous ring-tingly jester’s hat now, because out of the many stupid mistakes Dave’s made in his life, this might be the worst. It’s like Christmas up in here with all of the mistakes, Christmas in July, here on Hellmurder Island. He’s sweatier than Satan’s asscrack. Not because of the heat, not because his girlfriend had the wise idea of shoving a loaded firearm into hands, but because of the fucking boner he has. Which should be illegal, the boner part, all while holding—did he mention—a loaded gun.
But what’s goddamn criminal is how good Jade looks when she shoots. At least in his astute opinion. It’s the little things that are the most killer: her hand tight around the grip, an eye squeezed shut as she readies her aim, the little tip of her tongue poking out all cute and pink and shit and—
BANG!
“Bullseye!” She cheers. It’s only, oh, the fifth one of the day. His targets are a block of smelly cheese in comparison.
Has his mouth ever been this dry?
“Hey hey, it’s not nice to show off.”
Giggling, she sticks out her tongue at him this time. He’s back to dreamland, dreaming about that pink wrapped around his… god.
—But what gets him the most is the infinitesimal amount of knock back. Feet firm on the ground, she doesn’t move. Doesn’t shudder. It’s the furthest thing away from his floundering attempts. Girl oozes a cool confidence that puts any Strider diatribe to shame.
May as well send the bullet whizzing to his fucking brain instead. May as well bust a nut upon impact.
“Are you really that scared, Dave?” Shouldering her rifle, she tilts her head at him, in that quizzical way that always gets him good. But the horny part of his brain is so online right now that she could make convulsing on the ground like a goddamn lightning bug look erotic. “It’s okay, there’s a reason these things have a thousand safety locks on them! Here, let me show you again!”
Oh, god. Her showing him involves—
“You don’t have to, I’m just kinda an idiot is all—”
“Nooo, it just takes practice like anything else!”
She had promised that she had planned a date beyond their wildest dreams. She wasn’t lying about that. Not once did he ever imagine being parked outside the Homemade Harley Gun Range learning how to shoot, let alone hard as a rock. And he feels caught in approximately a hundred hard places right now, between holding a rifle at literal gunpoint, and the goddamn woodie, and wanting to thrust Jade up against a tree to kiss her face off.
Not that she knows this. She’s all business up in his business. Setting her rifle aside, she says, “Let’s readjust your aim.”
He’s seen Jade in various states of undress, specifically the naked kind of undressed. She can’t get any sexier now, with the braless tank top restaurant combo, with the tactical rainbow flip flops. Even he knows tactical rainbow flip flops are unreal levels of bravery at a range, and he doesn’t know jack about shit. But she’s just that good.
Sliding up behind him, she presses her chest—her breasts, with the little nubs chafing against him, fuck—to his back, setting her hands atop his, guiding them with that stupidly practiced ease, those five perfect knuckles, and not now, not with a loaded weapon, but oh god, forget the sun, it’s Jade’s touch that’s killer.
So is that look when she turns to pout at him.
He shifts, sheepish. What blood’s left in his pea brain has a one way ticket straight to his crotch. She noticed, of course. How could she not, when she notices everything about him?
“Really, Dave? Over this of all things?”
“Jade,” he swallows, “if you saw yourself.”
Once the position meets her approval, he pulls the trigger. It’s a clean shot through the center’s target. Bullseye.
“Yay!” She does her little clap-claps, grinning. “Look at you!”
At her excitement, he can't help but smile. Just a little.
“Hey, I had an idea. It’d be a genius move on my part if I kept fucking up so you had to keep adjusting me, and then—”
“Dave, I’m holding a loaded weapon!”
“Nobody here has to hold it.”
Before Jade can launch into a speech about gun safety, he flips the safety, presses the release, yanks off the ammo, checks the chamber, yada yada yada, he knows this well enough, both their rifles are safe as brick houses. Eyes wide, she can’t hide her surprise.
“That’s…. wow! You remembered all that!”
Fiddling with her glasses, trying to find the words, but comes up empty. For once, he does too. But they don’t need any, not when Jade presses him up against the tree, praising him with a long, slow grind and a lick of the lips, ready to kiss his face off.