"Absolutely Not."

Part 18: Cheeky

"Again," Simon uttered into my ear, lips still tickling my ear as he spoke.

I breathed through a fluttering heart and tried not to think about how I wanted his hands resting on places of my body other than my wrist and shoulder—preferably ones where I could release a louder groan that trembled to escape from my throat.

Doing as he said, I fired another round into the paper silhouette, ripping a hole through its neck, right where I could feel my own heartbeat.

He just kept at it with things that he knew would drive absolutely up a wall, pulling himself even closer to me to where there was absolutely no space between us. "Atta girl."

Jesus Christ, I was going to have an aneurysm or a stroke at this point from how hard my heart was having to pump the molten lava now coursing through my bloodstream.

"Simon," I breathed, forgetting about my stubbornness to continue calling him Ghost for the sake of boundaries, "I hardly think this is appropriate, don't you?"

I could feel his lips pull into a coy smirk. "I'm just helping you practice, Kels. Nothin' else." His hand traveled from my hand and began to drag itself down my wrist and forearm slowly. "Is it distracting?"

"Very much so," I whispered my admittance. Understatement...

His amused chuckle vibrated against my back as his fingertips trailed up my arm that was now lowering, my gun now aiming at the target's feet. Skipping the curve of my neck, he immediately found my jaw to capture, angling my head upward an inch.

"Did I say you could lower your aim?" He asked, his voice a teasing command.

I could only raise my own voice to but a whisper as my head swirled around the fact that his fingertips were prodding my cheeks, bouncing my mind back to being on his bed in a very similar position, "No."

"Then..."

This felt like a test. It felt like he was being my composure on trial, seeing how long it would take until I broke. Or miss my shot. Whichever came first.

Before allowing him to completely enrapture my very being the last time I was a part of 141, I'd been able to get a solid grip on my emotions and keep them at bay, but that was not the case once I'd had a taste of divulgence.

Even with the shit that we'd been through, that electrifying static survived between us. It didn't feel like any of it was tainted or dying, either.

And now, it seemed as though he was testing to see if he either had the ability to break me or if my willpower had held its strength after all this time.

With his hand gingerly clasping my jaw and cheek and the other somehow sneaking to my hip without me knowing, curling perfectly around the bone, I raised my firearm once more and carefully aimed.

"Don't miss," he teased, fully aware of what my shallow breathing meant.

"Or what?" I dared to ask.

"Maybe there will be repercussions, and maybe you'll enjoy the reward of making the shot a bit more. You choose."

"You're not going to tell me what they are, are you?"

"Absolutely not. It'll be a," he leaned even closer against my ear, "surprise."

A heavy beat passed between us as I squeezed the trigger with him squeezing me. His breath by my ear, my heartbeat racing against his pinky, I directed the chamber right in between pretend-Graves' eyes and fired two shots.

We both stared at the two holes that had been punctured right where I intended. Even with his distracting touch, I breathed a sigh of relief, and not so intentionally leaned into him. Habits died hard, I supposed.

He didn't waste any time in rewarding me.

With the hand he had cupping my chin, he smoothly tilted my head to him, my breath hitching, expecting to be stolen again by a firm kiss.

Ever so softly his lips pressed right at the corner of my mouth, an indescribably disappointing tease.

What kind of reward was that?

And as quickly as it happened, his presence against me disappeared. No fingers wrapped around my jaw nor did a warm hand caress my hip. Nor was there a torso pinning me against the bench.

That fucking tease of a man had been testing me.

"That's it?!" I protested his tease as I whipped my head around to face him, but his back was already to me as he walked toward the door. "Don't you dare walk away from me after doing something like that!"

His throaty chuckle echoed in the room. "You did it to me. It's only fair."

Was there an equivalent similarity to getting blue balls for women? Because I swore that was what ached between my thighs, almost knocking me to my knees.

Taking a few steps forward to try and close the distance between us again, his voice stopped me right in my tracks. "Better not be trying to leave the shooting range before putting it all away," the lieutenant warned without even looking back.

With an irate screech, I faced the bench again, my glare burning holes into the parchment before me instead of bullets.

Damn that Simon Riley and his ability to derail any sanity I wanted to maintain, and god damn my love for him.