Read My Gun Has Bullets for Free Online Page A

negotiated a path for them through the weeds to the front door. "Refreshing. I mean, you haven't let stardom get to you."
    Charlie unlocked the door. "Maybe it just hasn't caught up to me yet. When it does, I won't put up a fight." He opened the door to find McGarrett, his Husky, lying on the floor, his tail thumping against the dull hardwood.
    "Down, boy," Charlie said, turning on the lights. The dog thumped some more, glad to be noticed, but not enough to get off the floor.
    Alice followed Charlie inside, slowly taking in his spartan abode, the Ikea snap-together furniture and halogen lamps, the bare walls, the meticulously clean emptiness. Connie had cleaned him out. He was in no hurry to clutter his life up again.
    It wasn't that he couldn't afford it. But every cent Charlie was making was going straight into the bank. The way he figured it, his show could be history after thirteen episodes, and it could be a long time until his next paycheck. If he was smart, he'd have $200,000 in the bank to live on until he figured out what to do with his life.
    Charlie tossed his keys on the coffee table, where they clattered to a stop against the clear acrylic paperweight that held a bullet in suspended animation.
    Charlie turned to see Alice framed in the doorway, the glare from the streetlight shining right through her thin white blouse. How long had it been since ... too long.
    "Is that the bullet?" She picked up the paperweight and held it in front of her eyes. Charlie closed the door and looked at her from the back. Her jeans hugged her so tight he wondered if it would be possible to slip his hands inside without breaking his fingers. He hadn't had a thought like that for ... too long. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if it was his heart he heard thumping or McGarrett's tail.
    "That's the one." Charlie came up slowly, deliberately, behind her. "It burnt through my flesh and scorched my heart." Where did this shit come from? But she liked it. He could tell by the way she caught her breath, the way she stood very still, as if listening to a far-off sound.
    He slipped his arms around her waist and she leaned into him, warm and soft. "You're holding a piece of my soul in your hands," he whispered.
    She arched her head to one side, inviting him to kiss her neck. He did, hungrily, his hands rising up from her waist to her unfettered breasts, rubbing, squeezing, mashing. Revelling in the smell, the feel, the taste of a woman.
    Alice moaned, dropping the paperweight on his foot. He didn't feel it. He was feeling too many other things. She rubbed against him, her hands stroking his hips, reaching for his ass, arching her breasts into his hands. He reached under her shirt and pinched her nipples, gently tugging them into stiff points. Alice took in a sharp breath, grinding against him, making him so hard it hurt.
    She twisted out of his grasp and pushed him onto the couch. She straddled his waist, unpopped his jeans, and gripped his hard-on like a joystick. Charlie felt the heat radiating between her legs and throbbed in her tight grasp. She stroked him in her fist until he felt like a pillar of cement.
    Out of nowhere, she produced a condom, tearing open the packet with her teeth. She slipped the tight latex slowly, achingly over his pulsing erection, and before he knew it, he was coming in sharp, almost painful spasms, his eyes closed against the sudden, explosive pleasure. When Charlie opened his eyes, he saw Alice staring down at him. The condom drooped off his penis like a floppy hat.
    Surprise number four, the least welcome of all.
    He couldn't tell whether she was confused or frustrated. This night obviously wasn't going the way she planned. It certainly wasn't his idea of a dream date. He hadn't come this fast since high school, when all it took was a slow dance and he was spent.
    "My gun had bullets," he said. She laughed, not very convincingly. She was a lousy actress. Charlie went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up; when he