At first light, I leave a note on the bed and earmuffs on the inside doorknob of our bedroom.
In the shooting range, I press a button. The wall retracts, revealing a greater radius. I prepare my sniper rifle, glimpsing through the scope over two kilometers away where Burt’s riding a Range Rover over the lush green terrain.
“You’re up early,” I speak through the Bluetooth in my ear.
“Not a gloomy day, eh? I suspected you’d crave the challenge.”
“Not a bloody challenge,” I huff, my gander tracking the general direction of where Burt just drove from. My eyes slide over the bark of a stand of oak trees.
“Fucking cucumber,” I scoff under my breath. “I’ve to shoot a fucking cucumber tacked to a tree?”
“Aye.”
“Phallic symbol, really?”
“Yup.”
“Burt, you’re bloody wrong on all sorts of levels.”
“No worse than a certainsomeonewho deceived his lady, I’ll say. Have you assessed the dynamics of said cucumber?”
Head cocked ever so slightly, I calculate the measurements, just as I would if the vegetable were flesh and blood.
My next mark.
“Three inch . . . Alright, have your laugh, Burt the Butler, you will endure jeans and a bloody polo for the remainder of your tenure.”
“Gladly, if it will ensure Miss Whitson never suffers heartache at your hands again.”
An hour later, I’ve pressed the button, closing the partition that extends the shooting range to prepare for Luxury’s arrival. The titanium doors whisk closed, revealing a standard target area.
I place a 9mm, a bloody pink gun,onto the stainless-steel ledge with a full magazine. At the sound of soft footsteps, elation tips the side of my mouth. I turn around as Luxury takes a tentative step inside.
Black spandex touches everywhere I’ve licked and thrusted. She places a hand on her hip. “What in the world?”
“Where’s your ear protection?”
“Feels like I’m on the set of a secret spy film.”
“Where are your earmuffs?”
She lifts a shoulder.
“Luxury,” I hiss, pushing open the drawer to grab another. “Come.”
She saunters a few paces in front of me.
“Have you eaten?” I ask, placing the padded earphones over her head and pulling a cute coil, which bounces back when I release it.
“Yes.”
I press my lips to her forehead.Welcome to my world, Little One.
“Don’t kiss me like that, Victor.”
“Make me stop.” I grip the gun and place my hand at her slender belly, pressing myself behind her. Luxury doesn’t open her hands to take the gun.
I thrust my cock against her lower back.