Page 107 of Misguided

She stills, staring at me while it sinks in. I swear I almost see the cogs turning behind her eyes.

“Oh. Right.” A blush colors her cheeks as she looks down at the damp grass. “Is there something to lie on?”

“The ground.”

Her eyes narrow. “Hilarious.”

I cross my arms and watch as she lowers herself to the grass, pure disgust on her face. “I didn’t pick you for the prissy type.”

“I’m not,” she snaps. “I just don’t have another change of hunting clothes if I get these ones soaked.”

“Shame,” I mutter behind my hand, picturing her crouched beside the fire in her bra and panties while we dry them off. Note to self: find a stream to push her in. “You know what you’re doin’?”

The look she fires across at me has me lifting my hands in surrender.

“Yes, Dog. I know how to shoot. I just haven’t done it much.” She positions herself with the stock tucked into her shoulder, cheek rested against the pink design as she lines up the second target through her open sights.

The can vibrates with a loud ping.

“Got the other pellets?” she asks with a smug smirk.

Ignoring the fact I feel like a chauvinistic douche for assuming she’d need more practice, I point to my rifle beside her. “Still got plenty in it. Have a go with that.”

She sets the pink air rifle aside, and brings the heavier model to her shoulder, propping the end on the small log I dragged in for doing exactly this.

I give myself a sneaky slap to the face to knock the lust out of my gaze. Seeing her laid out like that in her cute-as-fuck pink camo pants and fitted T-shirt, holding my gun … fuck me dead. A man’s allowed to role-play, right?

The crack of the rifle echoes off the trees as the can falls. She rolls to her side and waggles her eyebrows at me, and damn it all if I don’t want to kick that rifle aside and fuck her senseless all over again.

Stay on task, Dog. You’re here to clear her head.

Much rather be filling something else after getting a taste.

“We’ll go check where you hit it, huh?”

She’s up like a rabbit, darting over the dewy ground to collect the tin. Her lips curl on one side as she inspects it on her way back to where I stand, tucking that motherfucking boner into the waist of my boxers.

How the fuck did I think I’d survive several nights in the woods with her?

“Show me how you did, babe.” I jut my chin towards her treasure as she inspects the entry and exit hole.

Right at the top, but definitely square enough.

“Good work.”

She beams, clutching the tin as though it’s a fucking trophy. “Not just a pretty face, huh?”

“Never said you were.”

Mel pushes up onto her tiptoes to smack a kiss to my cheek. “Thanks for taking me out, Dog.”

I link my arm around her waist and hold her to me. “We haven’t started the actual hunt yet.”

Her eyes search mine, and she smiles. “Haven’t we?”

I should let go, pick up the rifle and the daypack and get us going before the morning’s over. But fuck … she just licked her lips.

“Dog?”