Destroying Beauty (Hell Hounds Motorcycle Club): Vegas Titans Series (9 page)

BOOK: Destroying Beauty (Hell Hounds Motorcycle Club): Vegas Titans Series
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"This here is the safety," he says, pointing at a
small switch above the trigger. "It's on. You never take the safety off
until you're ready to shoot. Always treat a gun like it's loaded. Never raise
the gun until you're ready to shoot. And never put your finger on the trigger
until you're ready to shoot." He demonstrates, pointing the gun down and
away from us.

"Got it," I say, nodding. He eyes me for a moment,
then puts the gun on the wooden shelf in front of us that's attached to the
dividers separating the shooting stations.

"Stance. Put your right leg slightly in front of your
left. Wider." He taps the inside of my left foot with his boot.
"Good. Now arms up." He steps behind me, hunkering down and wrapping
his body around me, his arms pressing mine in. "Relax your elbows a bit.
You don't want them locked. Other people will tell you differently, but I think
this is the best stance. It'll help you absorb the recoil better. Stop
squirming."

"You're distracting me." It's true. I can feel
every muscle of his tensing against me, and suddenly I wish we were back at his
house.

I feel his breath at my ear as he whispers:
"Focus," and pulls away. I shiver, but do as he says, holding my
hands up the way I imagine the gun will feel in them.

He steps back and looks me over. "OK, pick up the gun.
Remember what I told you, where to point it."

I nod and reach for the pistol, carefully keeping my finger
off the trigger and the gun pointed away from us, down range. It's heavy, but
not as heavy as the one in the drawer.

"Now switch the safety off."

I turn the gun to the side and pull it back, suddenly
feeling nervous. But I know I still want to do this. I hadn't been planning to
ask Holt to teach me to shoot, but when I held his semi in my hands I knew that
I wanted to know how to use one. Just in case.

"Make sure you don't move your thumb up like
that," Holt says, stepping behind me again. He adjusts my thumb down so
that it lies flat on my fingers. "It's OK on this gun, but, look at this
semi." He pulls the one I saw in the drawer out of his bag. "Safety's
on. See this part here?" He runs his hands across the top. "That's
the slide. On a semi, when you pull the trigger, it slides back and will take
your thumb clean off if it's up there. So don't get in the habit."

The hair on the back of my neck tingles as I watch him hold
the gun. My vision blurs slightly for a second, and I try to blink away the
image that forms behind my eyes. A man's hand, covered to the wrist in black
fabric, maybe a sweatshirt, and his fingers curled around the base of a gun.

"You alright?" Holt says, putting the semi down on
the shelf.

"Yeah, I just…I need to…" I shake my head, trying
the get the image out of my head. Sometimes the images from that night…they just
pop into my mind, triggered by something around me. Holt reaches down and takes
the gun from my hands, switching the safety back on. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize…but it seems like
something's wrong."

"I…I saw something last week that scared me," I
murmur. I have to tell someone. I
have
to. I know I just met him, but I
can't carry it by myself. I just won't tell him any details. Besides, Holt
doesn't seem like the kind of guy to see things in black and white. "A
shooting. Someone got shot." Maybe if I fudge the details, say only one
person was shot, then he won't connect it to the Gas Station Murders.

"Oh my god…" he whispers, though he doesn't seem
completely shocked. Or at least, he doesn't start screaming, like Elise would
have. It's a relief to say the words out loud. "Did you have to file a
report and everything?" he asks. He tilts his head slightly, and the sun
streams directly into my eyes, blinding me.

"Um, no. It's complicated."

"But you saw the whole thing?"

"I don't really want to talk about it.
I…nevermind."

"Nevermind? You just told me you witnessed a shooting!
I mean, fuck. Why would you want to learn to shoot after that?"

I shake my head, not quite knowing myself the answer to his
question.

He frowns. "Are you in danger?"

"I…no, no. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, I'm glad you did," he says, wrapping his hand
around the back of my neck and lightly kissing my forehead. "That must
have been awful for you."

"It's been a rough week," I admit, laughing
softly.

"You wanna get out of here?"

"No, I came to learn to shoot and that's what I wanna
do."

"Your call," he says with a shrug, though I can
see him watching me with even more caution now.

I take my stance again and pick up the gun, switching off
the safety. I look down the range to the target at the end of the dry stretch
of grass. It's a man, with an oval-shaped target in the middle of his body.

"Take a deep breath, and when you exhale, squeeze the
trigger," Holt says softly. "Be ready for the recoil."

I nod, gazing down the sight to the bull's eye. The target
takes the shape of a faceless man in a black sweatshirt, staring me down from
the other end of a long tunnel. I take a deep breath, and squeeze the trigger.

My core muscles contract as the force of the shot knocks
back into my body, but I stand straight, only blinking in reaction. Now I know
why I wanted to come here. Power. I wanted to feel some power. And it feels
good.

Holt squints down range at the target. "Nice," he
says with a smile.

I roll my shoulders as we walk back to his truck. The
parking lot is nearly empty and he parked in the far corner. My neck and shoulders
are feeling a little stiff, but other than that, I feel more clear-headed than
I have in days. And not just clear-headed…also…high, I think is how I'd
describe it.

"I don't think I've been living," I remark
suddenly to Holt as he unlocks the truck.

"I don't know if I follow."

"I just…since what happened…" I climb in the
passenger side as he gets behind the wheel. "Maybe it was seeing death
so…up close, but I just keep thinking that I want to
live
. Do you know
what I mean?"

He pauses. "I think I do."

"I mean, I don't think I've really been living. Maybe
for years. Definitely for years. I've been hiding. And I don't want to do it
anymore."

"There's a lot of ways to hide," he remarks,
staring at the wheel.

I lean across the console and take his face in my hands,
wanting,
needing
, to feel him again. He looks surprised as I kiss him,
but when I close my eyes, I feel his mouth opening to mine. I kiss him
desperately, my tongue probing into his mouth. I hear him groan and he wraps
his arms around me, partially lifting me out of his seat.

I reach my hand down to his crotch, feeling his cock grow
hard against my palm. I deftly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, moving to
his ear as I unzip them.

"Fuck, Jo," he moans as I nibble on his earlobe
and push his pants and boxers down to free his throbbing member.

"I want to taste you," I whisper in his ear. His
head snaps to face me.

"You are…very surprising," he murmurs, his grin
changing to something more serious. But I don't want to analyze him right now.
That's not what I want to do at all. I quickly reach behind me and braid my
hair so that it stays out of the way, then glance down at his lap and bend
down.

His cock is ready and waiting for me, a drip of pre-cum
already glistening on the tip. I softly lick it off with my tongue and hear him
let out a slow whistle of air as he rests one of his hands on my back. I lick
around the tip a couple times, then tuck my lips behind my teeth and take him
into my mouth. There's no way I can fit all of him in, but I go as deeply as I
can, applying pressure the whole way. I move up and down a couple more times
until his shaft is wet, then wrap my hand around him, following my mouth with
twists of my fingers. He groans, and I can tell that he's already close.

Abruptly, I move down further, keeping my hand moving up and
down his cock, but taking one of his balls inside my mouth. I roll it around and
fondly it with my tongue as he moans, then give the same treatment to the other
one.

I begin to move my hand faster and faster and return my
mouth to his shaft, sucking hard now while I play with his balls with my other
hand. My eyes begin to water as he hits the back of my mouth, but I love
feeling such a strong man come apart at my touch, reacting to the slightest
flick of my tongue. His hand grabs my hair as he begins to cry out.

"Oh, just like that, oh, fuck!"

His dick spasms, releasing warm cum into my mouth. I use it
as lubricant to slide up and down a few more times, sucking at his tip to
completely drain him. I pause momentarily before I swallow. Well, I've come
this far, and I can't say that VD is at the top of my list of concerns just
now.

I sit up to see Holt leaning back in his seat, breathing
hard with his eyes closed. I wipe my lips with my fingers as he blinks his eyes
open.

"Shit, that was…that was really good," he murmurs,
leaning forward and palming my cheek with his hand as he kisses me. "Do
you want, do you want a tissue or something?" he leans across me to open
his glove compartment. I raise an eyebrow as he pushes aside a box of condoms
and picks up an old napkin. He glances up at me. "Forgot those were in
there. I'm completely clean, I can promise you that."

"Me too. I got tested after I found out Steve was
cheating."

"And since then?" he asks, wiping himself off. I
pause. "Didn't you get divorced a while ago? You should get tested
frequently."

I smile at him. "You sound like my old sex ed teacher.
I would have gotten tested…I just haven't, you know, since then. I said last
night that it had been a while."

"Yeah, but I didn't think that meant, you know, a year.
You haven't had sex with anyone else since you got divorced?" he says, his
eyes practically bugging out of his head. I shrug.

"Hey, c'mon, I just told you I was hiding."

"Wait…didn't you meet him in high school?"

"Yeah…"

"Was he your first?"

"Well, yeah."

"So that would make me…I'm only the second guy you've
ever slept with?!"

"Is that a big deal?"

"No, no, it's just…um, I didn't think…" he trails
off. "Do you have to work tonight?" he asks. I shake my head.
"Wanna go grab food or something?"

"Yeah? You don't think I'm some nerd now that you know
I've only had sex with two guys?"

"You just gave me a blow job in broad daylight in a
parking lot, so no, I would not describe you as a nerd."

 

Chapter Ten

Holt

 

 

"Hey, baby," Brette murmurs, sliding over to me on
the couch. The music at the clubhouse is turned up. It's a Friday night, and
everyone wants to blow off some steam. It's one of those great parties where no
one officially called it, but everyone just kept drifting in and the mood was
good and you're exactly the right amount of drunk.

I'm sitting on the sofa on the side of the lounge, watching
everyone get loose and thinking of the best plants to start Jo out on. She
wants to make a windowsill garden for her kitchen. I glance over at Brette,
running my eyes down her body appreciatively.

"Damn," I say, shaking my head with a smile at her
handkerchief of a top.

"You like? It's new." She slides my hand down my
thigh. "Haven't seen you much the last week or so."

"Bark's got me on a, a sort assignment," I say,
glancing down at her finely manicured fingers.

"Mmm. I missed you. No one gives it to me as good as
you." She leans in and licks my neck, running her tongue up and into my
ear. The woman knows her stuff, can't argue with that. I feel her reach her
hand up to my belt. I stop her.

"Not tonight," I say, pulling my face away. She
looks surprised, but not hurt.

"You sure?"

I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles.
"Been a long week."

"OK. Well, I'll be around."

I stand up, needing some fresh air all of a sudden. As I
walk to the back door, I see Fish staring at me across the room. What does that
fucker want? I glare at him and continue outside.

The night breeze is a relief. Whenever my mind gets too busy
I can always find some peace outdoors. I glance at the weeds sprouting in the
dirt next to the building. My mind immediately returns to Jo.

Maybe basil? Or would that need more sun than her kitchen
gets?

Jesus, what the fuck am I doing?
The reality of my
situation hits me like a brick. I just turned down a fuck with the hottest
sweet butt in the club because…because I feel like I have a girlfriend?

Jo is not my fucking girlfriend. Besides the fact that I
don't do girlfriends, Jo
especially
is not my girlfriend. Jo is a
witness. Jo doesn't even know that I'm in an MC.

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