Stirring Something

“No, not like that,” Dante sighed and stepped in behind me. Heat pooled against my back as he leaned closer, wrapping his arms around me to meet mine, and he took hold of my fingers wrapped around the gun. My spine stiffened as his breath danced against the side of my cheek, and I had to force myself to breathe steadily. “Okay, then what?” I asked. “Because from where I stand, I’m pretty confident my aim is right.” “Okay then,” he suddenly stepped back, leaving cold air in his body’s wake. “Shoot the target.” I perfected my aim, then shot. I didn’t hit my target. Not even close. I didn’t even hit any part of the dummy, period. I frowned. “But I was sure…” My shoulders dropped and I released a long breath. “Okay, you’re right. I have no idea what I’m doing.” “The thing is, it looks easy enough and it is, once you learn how to properly hold a gun.” His eyes flicked to my hand holding the gun by my side. “The safety isn’t on. If you make one wrong move, you’ll have a foot missing.” My eye