Page 3 of Bunny Vibes

3

Olivia

Pepper marched right over to me and smacked me on the shoulder. “Ouch,” I grumbled as I rubbed the bruised spot.

She completely ignored my pain and started ranting. “I thought we agreed that the next time you were here, I got first dibs on anything you’re selling! You keep running out before I even see you.” Then she glared at Nixon. “Last time, you bought everything, you big jerk!” Pepper was right, I had told her that, but then I’d received a phone call from Nixon and well. . .he was not only my best customer; he also referred a ton of people to me. I wanted to explain this to her, but before I could, Nixon drawled, “You’re welcome to anything you want.”

“And what’s the catch?” Pepper snapped as she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, giving him a glare that would have had a lesser man shaking in his boots.

Nixon just smiled wider and winked at her. “Since I own them, you’ll be borrowing them, so naturally, I’ll have to supervise. And should you need assistance, I’ll be more than happy to provide it.”

Pepper stared at him for a moment, then spun to me and grabbed my hands. “Pleeeeeeease let me get what I need first,” she pleaded.

Begging was so not Pepper’s style, nor was desperation. “What’s going on with you?” I asked quietly.

She leaned in as though she was going to answer me in a whisper. Except, Pepper had always been loud, and when she was stressed, or her emotions were high, she inadvertently got even louder. “I lost Mr. Spot!”

I rolled my eyes at Pepper’s ridiculous name for her B.O.B. Apparently, she’d named him that because he always hit the right “spot.” It was better than the name she’d given her last one, Mr. Pokey, whom she’d misplaced a few weeks ago (after buying him to replace the one that disappeared a month before that), which was when she got Mr. Spot. “Pepper,” I sighed in exasperation. “How are you such a neat freak, and yet you keep losing your…” I trailed off as my cheeks burned.

“Love-stick?” she offered with a goofy smile.

“Mr. Spot?” Nixon asked. His tone sounded amused, but there was something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

“I don’t know what happened,” Pepper continued, ignoring Nixon. “One day, he was just gone. I don’t know how I could have lost him, but I’d hate to think that the housekeeping staff, or someone like that, stole him. I mean, who wants a second-hand dick, right?” I wrinkled my nose at the gross thought as she rambled on. “But I swear someone rifled through my stuff. It looked a tiny bit out of place, but I can’t figure out why someone would take him, so I must have lost him.”

When she stopped to take a breath, Nixon inquired again. “Mr. Spot? You named your sorry excuse for a cock, Mr. Spot?”

“Yes. Because the dude hits the spot every time.” She picked up the Bunny Love vibrator and pointed it at him. “I doubt anyone could say that about you.”

Nixon scoffed and sat up straight in his seat to pin her with an intense stare. “Baby, you have no idea what having your “spot” hit really means if you think that dipstick gives you satisfaction.”

“And I suppose you’re volunteering to show me the difference?”

Nixon grinned and leaned back, placing his hands behind his head. “Any time you’re ready to find out what real pleasure feels like, I’m at your service.”

“I think I’ll skip your tutorial and take my chances with Love Bunny here.”

“You’ll be singing a different tune when that one goes missing, too,” he jibed.

Pepper narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side as she studied him. “What do you mean ‘goes missing’?”

Nixon’s eyes rounded just the tiniest bit as he swallowed hard, then he smoothed his expression into his usual lazy grin and laughing eyes.

I felt like I was at a tennis match, my head bobbing from side to side to watch as the ball flew back and forth between the opponents.

“Like I said, just offering to help you out with your problem— “

Pepper interrupted him. “I don’t have a problem with my— “

“Enough!” Spencer roared.

The room immediately went silent, and all of us looked at Spencer with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Spencer had a commanding presence, a charismatic personality, and an aura that drew people to him. On stage, he was loud and rambunctious, everything you would expect from a rockstar. But in person, he was generally laid back and low-key. Even when he’d stared at me with his eyes and body radiating anger, I’d never heard him raise his voice, which was why we were all in shock.

He closed his eyes and blew out a breath as he ran his fingers through his unruly, dark hair. When he opened them, he pierced me with an intense look and folded his arms across his chest.

“You work for The Magic Touch?” He asked.

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