Chapter 18 Bunny - Present #2
Hunter’s brows shoot up. “Jesus. I can’t imagine loving a show that much.”
It’s my comfort show, I inwardly pout. Outwardly, I snap, “Don’t shame me.”
“I’m not shaming you!” he protests as I climb onto the sofa and tug a rolled throw from the wall holder. “I am thinking about slapping your ass right now, though, not gonna lie. It’s like a juicy peach staring at me, begging me to take a bite.”
Laughter bubbles up as I get comfortable. “Shut up and give me my food.” I make grabby hands, mouth watering as he sets the tray on the ottoman and slides it toward me.
While he’s still bent over, I grab his shirt and pull him down for a quick kiss. He freezes, shocked, and I just smile like it’s the most normal thing. “Thank you for taking care of me. Did you get food? You’ll stay, right?”
A slow smile spreads across his face, making my heart flutter. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
Hunter
“Bokutachi waaaaa…”
I startle awake to the end of an episode blaring over the TV. The character Maru is named after stares into the distance, his long, fluffy tail-cape thing drifting behind him as the credits roll.
My sudden movement doesn’t so much as disturb Bunny, who slumbers peacefully at my side with her legs kicked out over the cushions and her head propped on the pillow I grabbed from her bed earlier.
Her long raven locks spill over my lap, and I realize that at some point while we were sleeping, we must have reached for each other, because our fingers are laced together, resting at the curve of her waist.
A sense of completeness settles in my chest. I love this woman so much, and it seems like she’s finally coming around to the idea of letting me in. I don’t know what changed, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
This feels right. It feels like home. It feels like all my patience has finally paid off, and for once, the nice guy isn’t finishing last.
I run my free fingers through her silky strands, relishing the scent of raspberries and jasmine that consumes my senses as I play with her hair. A contented sigh leaves her parted lips, and she snuggles deeper into her pillow.
“Hunter…” she murmurs in her sleep.
“Shh. I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
Except at that exact moment, Maru’s ears flick forward and his head whips toward the front door. In a split second he goes from splooting next to his brother—who remains unbothered—to alert and on his feet.
A low growl rolls out of his tiny chest, raising the hair on my arms.
Gently, I untangle myself from Bunny and rise. “What is it, boy?”
Maru looks up at me, his little body shaking as he immediately steps to my side and herds me out of the room. I pause at the threshold, looking back at Bunny to see that Yasha is now on the couch in the spot I just occupied, alert and rigid, as if protecting her.
Slowly, I creep into the kitchen to grab my gun. Maru continues to the front door, sniffing along the bottom while his ears swivel back and forth. His growl deepens.
My heart jumps into my throat when a rustle outside makes him bark. Small or not, he sounds like he means business and begins scratching at the door, alternating between growls and short, sharp barks.
The glass on the heavy wooden door is rippled, distorting the image of the outside. With the impending night growing darker, I can’t make anything out, but the noise on the other side grows louder with each step I take.
“I swear… if you’re making all this racket over a squirrel, we’re gonna have words.” I meet his gaze. His investigation ceases and he plops into a sit, head tilting in that ridiculous, adorable way only dogs manage.
Suddenly, the noise on the other side stops, and the thud of heavy footsteps running away fills the air. I lunge for the door and curse when I have to stop and unlock both the deadbolt and the regular lock before I can throw it open and sprint down the stoop.
By the time I make it to the street, there’s no one around.
“Note to self: install a doorbell camera.” I’ve had Bunny’s place under surveillance for a while now—unbeknownst to her.
A good hunter must also be an excellent stalker.
And I am one of the very best when it comes to my little rabbit. But it seems she’s now the subject of a trespasser—one who keeps leaving her notes—and I’d bet my badge he was just outside her door.
I spin to see Maru sniffing the bushes next to the stoop. He lunges beneath them to inspect something, and a nagging feeling twists in my gut. “Maru! No!”
Surprisingly, he jumps back and trots to my side as I approach the greenery warily. “Go in the house, boy.” I motion to the door and wait until he’s safe inside, his little head peeking out to watch me, before I duck down to see what caught his interest.
Below the bush sits a heaping pile of cherries, and if my memory serves me, cherry pits are toxic to dogs.
Motherfucker.
He’s targeting them—to make it easier to break in later.
With as much shit as I’ve installed in Bunny’s house, I’m an absolute idiot for not doing anything to the outside. It should’ve been the first thing I did when she told me about the letters, even if I’ve spent more time casing her place than I’ve been at my own home.
I can’t always be with her, and I have to keep her safe. That’s always been my number one priority… especially since she has a habit of getting herself into precarious situations.
As soon as I gather the toxic fruit in a bag and toss it in the trash, I double-check all the doors are locked before heading back to the living room. Yasha is curled on Bunny’s stomach, watching me with his beady little eyes, while Maru happily gnaws a yak-milk chew.
“Come on, little guy. Let’s get your mom to bed.”
Yasha’s black tufted ears flatten, and he lunges for my hand when I try to remove him, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh between my thumb and index finger. His high-pitched snarl startles Bunny, and she springs up, sending him tumbling to the floor.
She nearly topples back onto the couch as the movement puts us close. “Did he just try to bite you?” Her voice is laced with sleep, eyes half-open as she stares between me and the black ball of fur.
“Yeah, he’s never done that before. I was just going to move you to your bedroom.” Yasha stares, unblinking, as if I’m a threat.
“What’s wrong, boy? Did Daddy scare you?” Bunny coos, bending to scoop him up.
For the second time tonight, surprise flicks across my face, seizing my heart in a vise grip. If she realizes what she called me, she doesn’t correct herself as she nuzzles Yasha’s fur.
He remains steadfast in his mission to keep me from her. I reach to scratch his head and he nips at me again.
What the hell happened between me going outside and now?
I’ve known the dogs their whole lives, and neither has ever so much as growled at me.
“I’m starting to take personal offense here, bud. What did I do to piss you off in the last ten minutes?”
“They’ve both been moody lately,” she mutters through a yawn, setting him down. “Very yappy and very snarly toward men when we’re out on walks.”
She leans into me, lays her head on my chest, and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m so tired. I’m going to go back to bed.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head, holding her to me, breathing her in—trying to hold on to any piece of her I can in case she wakes tomorrow and her feelings revert to normal. “See you tomorrow?”
Her fingers dance along my waist and down my arm, then lace with mine. Gold-flecked pine gazes up at me as a rosy hue breaks over her cheeks, highlighting her freckles and the shimmering silver of her scar. “Stay the night?”
“Are you sure?” My free hand drifts along her cheekbone, the barest touch against her soft skin as I search her face for any sign she’ll regret this tomorrow.
“Yes,” she breathes, pulling me down. The kiss starts soft and sweet before turning into an inferno I fully intend to pour gasoline on once we get to the bedroom.
I lift her and head upstairs. She wraps her legs around my waist, intentions clearly aligned with mine as she shifts and shoves my hand down the waistband of her shorts.
That went from zero to sixty real fast, but who am I to deny my horny rabbit?
She cries out—the sweetest sound—and I swallow it with my tongue as I swipe my fingers through her soaked center. “Hunter,” she mewls against my lips.
“That’s right, baby. Who’s making you feel this way?” I growl, dragging my mouth down her neck to nip at her flesh.
“You are.” She sinks her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer as I work her skin between my lips and teeth, sucking the sensitive spot that has her grinding against me.
“And who’s the only one who can make you feel this way?” I kick open her door, sinking my fingers into her as I lay her on the bed.
“You,” she whines, legs spreading as her hips chase my hand.
Bunny thrashing in the throes of pleasure is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to commit each second to memory as the heavy reality of her waking tomorrow and changing her mind lingers in the air, trying to suffocate my hope that things have shifted between us for good.
My little rabbit lifts her hips and I tear her shorts down with one hand, the other fucking her as I work my pants open. She grabs at me with desperate, needy sounds, using her feet to usher me forward while she frees my cock and aligns it beside my arousal-covered fingers.
I pull them from her, fisting my cock and notching myself at her entrance, pushing in enough to bow her back—then stop.
“And who does this pretty pussy belong to, Little Rabbit?” I rasp, gathering her wrists above her head. Heavy, ragged breaths shudder my lungs as I wait for her answer.
Bunny struggles against my hold, feet locking at my backside and digging in to slide me farther inside. My dark chuckle fills the room as I resist, savoring her impatient whimpers.
“Who does it belong to, Little Rabbit?” I repeat, jaw clenched, keeping a hold on my instincts. I want to claim her. Thoroughly wreck her and make her mine.
“You!” she finally cries, head digging into the mattress as I sink into her to the root before she even finishes the word. “You, Hunter. I’ve always belonged to you.”
Abandoning her wrists, I hitch her legs into the crooks of my arms to thrust deeper, and her body welcomes me like a snug winter jacket. Soft and warm and comfortable. As soon as her hands are free, she’s pulling at me everywhere, hips rolling to meet mine, tugging my shirt to yank me down to her.
“Always,” she whispers before kissing me. “There’s never been anyone but you.”
I’ve always known it, but hearing her say it means more than spying on her to find it out.
I don’t say it back because she already knows.
I’ve been proving myself to her since the moment we met.
With my words. My actions. With the way I worship her body and never ask for anything in return.
And now she’s finally opening up to me, blossoming like a rare flower after so much care, devotion, and nurturing.
“I’m so close,” she warns. “Come with me.”
I don’t tell her she never has to ask. I’ll follow her anywhere—as many times as she wants me to.
And I plan on there being many, many times tonight.
I don’t tell her about the intruder at her door. Or the pile of cherries left for the dogs. I don’t want to cause her stress, and I selfishly want to enjoy our time.
I can tell her everything in the morning.
After I wake her with my head between her legs.
Once I'm sure her feelings haven’t changed.