Page 62 of From Rome, With Hate

“I’ll answer questions when you show me how well you remember to shoot.”

I roll my eyes on a groan.

He hands me the pistol and stands back, crossing his arms over his hardened chest. The tattoos inked across his skin stretch with his muscles.

I blink and inhale a deep breath, shaking out the tension from my neck and shoulders.

Focus, Jules. Focus.

Turning to face the targets, I shake the thoughts that have been haunting me since this morning. I can’t look at Rome without wanting more. How the hell am I going to survive the rest of my time here? It’s only been eleven days, and I cracked on day one. It’s been a week and a half since, but it was easy to not give in when we were giving one another the cold shoulder. Now we’ve gone back to being cordial. At this point, I know it’s only a matter of time.

Before getting into position, I eye the middle target. “I’m surprised you haven’t upgraded your shooting range to something a little fancier. You have plenty of money to do so.”

I shake my head, the end of my ponytail dancing across my shoulders. Planting my feet shoulder width apart, I grip the handle of Rome’s pistol and straighten my arms in front of me.

“I never come out here,” Rome confesses quietly. “Would hardly be worth my time and effort.”

“Huh.” I nod and look over my right shoulder at him.

“Shoot,” Rome orders, tipping his head toward the targets. “Stop getting distracted.”

“I’m not.” I sigh, following his direction.

A scoff crawls up his throat, low and quiet, but I ignore him.

Closing one eye, I focus on the target and inhale a breath. I hold it before pulling the trigger. The gun shot is quiet, barely audible as the bullet grazes the side of the wood chunk. It forces it to move a fraction. Disappointment settles in my gut for not hitting it dead center. It’s been years since I fired a gun but, honestly, that wasn’t too bad, considering.

I turn to Rome and find his expression unchanged.

“Well?” I pop my brow.

“Not bad.” He shrugs, unraveling his arms as he moves to stand behind me.

I freeze, a snake of pleasure wrapping around my spine the moment his chest meets my back. I’m shivering with excitement.Forcing my nerves to calm down, I hold my breath as his fingers slide down my arms before pulling them up. He wraps himself around me, guiding my arms straight out.

“Here,” he says against my ear. “I’ll show you.”

Goosebumps break across my skin. I smirk, even though he can’t see it. “You’re showing me exactly what I was just doing.”

“You could make a few minor adjustments.” His lips are purposefully pressing against my ear at this point. Heat coils in my lower stomach. “May I help you?”

“I guess.”

His mouth rises into a smirk against me before he pulls back. He crouches down on his heels behind me.

A gasp hits the back of my throat when his hands are wrapping around one of my thighs. He’s slow and methodical. At this point, I know he’s using this shooting practice as a ruse. As an excuse to get closer to me. At least that’s what it seems like.

“Can I ask you a question?” His fingers slide up my thigh, dangerously close to my pussy. I already know I’m completely soaked, aching for him to continue inching his way up.

I swallow. “So, you get to ask questions, but I can’t?”

“Your questions have complicated answers.”

“Fine. If I ask an easier one, will you answer it?”

“Depends.” He pauses, then sighs. “Okay, if you could ask a different question, what would you ask?”

I twist my mouth in thought. There are a million different options, but I go with the one I know he’ll be most eager to answer.