Chapter 11 Bunny - Present
Present
“Oh my god! Yes!” I animatedly wave my hands as I lean toward my date. “Finally! Someone who gets it. They wouldn’t have found the Dragon Balls without Bulma’s Dragon Radar. She’s the most important character in the show, and I will die on that hill!”
Duane—my date for the evening—laughs, a full-bodied rumble in his chest that isn’t directed at me but with me. His bun shakes on the top of his head, the pink scrunchie holding up his sandy-colored strands threatening to fall out with the movement. “I can get behind that. I’ll defend that choice.”
While he’s not making my kitty meow by any stretch, I must admit I’m having fun. So much so that I nearly forget Hunter is across the bar, drilling a hole into the side of Duane’s head with his heated gaze.
Part of me feels bad that I keep going on dates.
The other part enjoys watching Hunter squirm.
On one hand… I’m lonely. On the other… Hunter nearly always interrupts my dates.
It’s like he can’t help himself when he sees me with another guy.
And while he still won’t fuck me until I commit to him, he’ll still fuck with my body until he makes me see stars.
Our logic is bewildering.
It’s just a phrase. Just a simple, “Yes, I’ll be yours,” even if I basically am already. But for some reason, it holds so much weight with him. It’s infuriating.
“Okay, but what about mecha? Gundam Wing in all its glorious forms?” Duane asks. “Or do you not like the heavy action shows?”
“Eh.” I shrug while draining the last of my tequila and soda. “I like Full Metal Panic. Does that count?”
“Gotta have that romance, huh?” He laughs.
“I guess so, now that I think about it. But Dragon Ball Z isn’t a romance.” My tone hardens in preparation for judgment.
Duane holds up his hands. “Hey, I’m not judging. Promise.”
It’s one of the things I hate most about telling people I like anime. There’s always someone who wants to call me out for only liking shows with romance, or only watching the dubbed titles.
How about you mind your business and don’t hate on me for something so trivial? People really have a way of making everything about them, like my personal show choices have anything to do with their lives.
Weirdos.
“Have you been to Anime Claw? It’s this fun little place—”
“Oh my god! I’ve been wanting to go there!
It looks so fun!” I can’t hide the excitement in my voice.
It’s definitely a place that would be better with someone who’ll appreciate it as much as I do.
I thought about asking Dove, but she doesn’t understand my obsession, and I want to enjoy myself—not have to keep explaining everything.
He checks his watch, eyes lighting up. “They’re still open. Wanna go?”
“Heck yeah, I do! I’m just gonna run to the bathroom first.” I’m already up and out of my seat before he can say a word, his chuckles drifting behind me as I make my way to the restrooms.
Two giggling women exit as I enter, leaving me alone in the small space.
For a bar bathroom, it’s impeccably clean.
Alex takes pride in keeping The Tipsy Taco spotless, having someone clean up every hour.
There’s not even a drop of water on the vanity as I lean closer to the mirror to reapply my gloss.
The door opens, and my heart skips a beat when Hunter enters, locking it behind him.
Through the reflective glass, I meet his gaze, narrowing mine to show my incredulity. “What are you doing here, Hunter? This is the women’s bathroom.”
I press closer to the counter, relishing the way his eyes drop to my backside. My black leather skirt is short enough to give him a peek at what’s underneath, and he sounds like he’s holding back a groan as he asks, “What are you doing, Bunny? Your date looks like Dove’s doppelg?nger.”
“He’s a nice guy. What’s it to you?” I slip my gloss back into my pocket and turn to face him. His erection is already prominent against his dark pants, and the fact that he locked the door behind him is telling. We could get into a lot of trouble for whatever it is he has planned—and he knows it.
Yet, he steps toward me, heavy heat in his amber eyes. I cross my arms, lifting my chin to show him he doesn’t intimidate me.
“I’m done.” When there’s barely any space between us, he stops, hands in his pockets, his expression carved from stone. “You win.”
Adrenaline spikes like a bad drug, and I try to keep my fear from showing. My fingers dig into my arms, anchoring me so I don’t spiral into the dark reality where Hunter decides he’s finally finished with me. “And what did I win?”
Hunter withdraws a hand from his pocket and smooths his thumb over the teal foil star covering my scar. It’s a warm and familiar touch that always grounds me, always makes my heart stutter. But tonight, it’s almost as if I can feel his goodbye in that same gentle stroke.
“You don’t want me. You’ve made that painfully clear for years. I think it’s time I let you go, Little Rabbit.”
No.
Of course I want you, you idiot.
It’s me who’s the fool. How could I expect him to keep playing this game?
He was bound to lose interest. I’m surprised he lasted this long.
I haven’t been fair to him at all. I go on dates in front of him, get pissy when he so much as smiles at another woman, and it always ends the same way—him giving me an orgasm and going without, because he’s convinced that if he sleeps with me without commitment, I’ll leave. And I don’t blame him.
We want each other, but we don’t trust each other.
Hunter and I were doomed from the start.
Even so, I try to make light of the situation, to pretend his decision doesn’t gut me. “What, you can’t handle watching me take home strangers anymore?”
It’s a lie, and he has to know it. Right? Hunter has to know I haven’t slept with anyone since him. Haven’t let another man touch me because the only touch I crave is his.
He breathes out a laugh and braces his hands on the counter on either side of me, leaning down until our noses almost brush. “Take home whoever you want. From now on, just know that I’ll do the same.”
I think I’m going to be sick.
Stepping back with a smirk—an honest-to-god, not-trying-to-get-a-rise-out-of-me smirk—he says, “Have a good night, Buns.”
“Wait!” Whiskey eyes go wide as I launch forward, curling my fingers into his belt to stop him from leaving me.
Whatever it was I thought he came in here to say or do, this isn’t it. Anxiety floods my bloodstream, my breaths coming in heavy pants as I scramble for words. Hunter gazes down at me with so much hope, his chest still as he holds his breath and waits.
I pull him back, and his arms remain at his sides. “I don’t want serious. I can’t do serious, Hunter.”
Even though what we’ve been doing is as serious as I can give. He has every part of me—except the one crushing piece I keep under lock and key.
My fingers deftly unlatch his belt as I lick my lips, letting my desire bleed into my gaze.
“What do you want then, Bunny?”
I undo his pants before releasing him to hop onto the counter, reaching for him once I find my balance. Hunter lets me lead, steeling himself from touching me as I pull his zipper down and palm his throbbing cock.
“No strings.”
The words leave my lips in a whispered plea. I’m begging him to play by my rules. I don’t want to lose him.
His cock twitches in my hand as I pull him out, and I drop my gaze to take it in. I lick my lips again, thinking about how he’d feel inside me. In my mouth. In my body. In my soul.
‘Surrender your heart to me and I will fuck my soul into yours.’
The words he spoke to me all those weeks ago replay until he says, “Too bad.”
What he says contradicts his actions as his fingers trail up my thighs to grip the sides of my underwear. “That’s just not my thing. But you know what? I’ll make an exception, just this once.”
Elation blooms in my chest as he pockets the lacy lilac garment. Then his lips are on mine as he says, “Consider it a goodbye fuck.”
Disappointment pierces my heart. As quickly as the anticipation of him finally coming around to my terms settles in my bones, it vanishes.
But those thoughts blur and dissolve as he touches me between my legs, finding me warm and wet and wanting him.
“Hunter,” I moan his name as he rubs my arousal over his length before sliding the crown of his engorged cock up and down my center. So fucking slowly. Torturing me. Torturing himself.
“All this time, you could have had me, Bunny.” He angles himself against my clit, brushing the swollen bundle of nerves with each pass. “Now you’ll only get a taste of how good we could have been together.”
If this is a punishment, consider me a very naughty girl.
Hunter grips the back of my neck, forcing my gaze up.
Twisting my fingers in his hair, I draw him down, done being a scared little rabbit when it comes to him. I’ll remind him exactly how good we are together. He’ll be hooked again. He won’t care about me verbally handing my heart over.
It’s all in the power of the pussy.
“You’re the one who won’t be able to resist more than a taste.” I kiss him gently, savoring the way his lips feel on mine. “You’ve hungered for me for years.”
Hunter presses into me, his cock sliding in just until I part around him. It burns. It’s been so long since something this size has been inside me—his cock was the last thing to breach my walls.
“Here’s the thing, Bunny.” I whimper as he presses in another inch.
“I’m done wanting a woman who doesn’t want me.
You want my cock, you’ll have it.” I squirm as he reaches the halfway point.
He’s taking his time, making sure he doesn’t hurt me.
Even when he’s trying to be a big badass, Hunter’s still a softie at heart. “Once. Just like you said.”
“I said no strings.” My thighs tense as I angle my hips, trying to urge him the rest of the way. I’m desperate to feel all of him, nearly ready to come from this alone.