Page 9 of Protecting my Zinnia

She seems genuinely excited when we reach the range. I unlock the door and turn on the lights as she follows me, looking around carefully. "Weird. You teach indoors?"

"To start, yes." Taking her hand, I lead her down a hallway to a back window. "On clear days we use that field to teach outdoors so that people can get a feel for the wind. But first we start in a controlled indoor environment."

"So it's kind of like bowling?" she asks. "People come in groups to have a beer and compete against their friends?"

"Yep, except that they only have a beer after they shoot, never before."

I run her through the basics of scoring and distances. Then it comes time for the part I've been looking forward to.

"Let's start you off with perfect form."

"Okay."

I love how open-minded she is. Honestly, I feel like I could ask Zinnia if she would like to come apple-picking in Albania, and she would be up for it.

I have to put the question out there. Taking her hand, I ask, "Zinnia, does it bother you that I'm more than ten years older than you?"

Smiling softly, she steps closer. "No. Because you don't treat me like a child." Her head tilts. "You do seem a bit overprotective, but I feel like that's a guy thing, not an older guy thing."

My hands wrap around her hips, pressing our bodies together. "I already have intense feelings for you, Zinnia. I can't stand the thought of anything bad happening to you. So yeah – I'm already protective." Reaching my hand into the back of her long, wavy hair, I tilt her lips to mine.

This time we're completely alone. She picks up on that vibe immediately, pressing her breasts against my chest. Untucking her shirt at the back, my palm slowly drifts up her spine. "Yes?"

Her soft giggle makes me hard as rock. "Yes."

Even though my jeans are suddenly uncomfortably tight, I hold my hips slightly away from hers, resisting the urge to grind against her. She doesn't take the hint, though, pressing against me as tightly as she can, opening her lips for a deep, intoxicating kiss.

"You're driving me crazy," I groan, sliding my hand higher. Then a shudder runs through me. Leaning back, I watch her nipples tighten through her t-shirt. "No bra today?"

Zinnia laughs. "You said I shouldn't wear anything that restricts my movement. I hate those stupid things."

I lean back a bit more, sliding my hands to cup her luscious breasts under her shirt. Her hands wind around the back of my neck, pulling me in for another kiss.

At first I assumed I should go slowly, that Zinnia might be nervous. Instead, she is clearly on board with what we're doing, and it feels like she wants everything. If anything, I'm going to be the one slowing us down.

Her tongue entwines with mine as our kiss deepens while my thumbs gently caress her tight nipples. Her breasts are so soft as my hands roam over her skin, enjoying every gasping sound she makes. If we weren't standing in the middle of the range I would lie her down, strip her naked, and kiss every inch of her heavenly skin.

Zinnia makes a soft whimper as I reluctantly pull my lips from hers, causing my cock to throb in my jeans. I should maintain some control in case someone walks in. More importantly, the sooner we finish with the lesson, the sooner I can invite her to my house for dinner. She grinds against me impatiently. "I can tell that you want more," she giggles.

"Time and place, baby."

Squeezing her breasts firmly one last time, I remove my hands, then tuck in her shirt so that I'm not tempted again.

I select a bow that should be the right size, then turn Zinnia so that her back is to my chest. I place her in position, slowly caressing every body part as I move her legs, her hips, her arms and shoulders. Her soft sigh is a humming purr. "I love the way you touch me," she whispers.

"Good. Because I love touching you." Wrapping her fingers around the bow, I murmur in her ear, "Do you know what else I love, gorgeous?"

"What?"

"When a new student hits the target panel on their first try."

She looks up at me with a saucy grin. "Challenge accepted."

I spend a solid five minutes going over the basics before even allowing her to nock an arrow. Then I step back, waiting as she gets a feel for how to aim.

"Back of the arrow, front of the arrow, target," she murmurs to herself, repeating back what I had just explained. She draws back, exhales, then becomes still as a statue before releasing the arrow.

It not only hits the panel, but inside the printed rings on the target. "Holy shit. Nobody scores higher than a two on their first shot."