Page 79 of Claiming His Bunny
“Like hell I will. What’s going on?”
Is he really making me say it out loud? God, I hate him! “My muscles hurt, alright? I don’t work out. Like, ever,” I grumble. “And yesterday was…well, it was great, but it was also quite strenuous, so now I won’t be able to walk without pain for a day or two. Happy?”
“I’m never happy to see you in pain, bunny. Unless it’s the fun kind of pain.” He grins, effortlessly carrying me through the secret door.
It’s not until he puts me in an office chair that I realize there are two of them. I’m fairly certain that the last time I was here, there was only one chair. “Did you buy an extra bat cave chair because of me?”
“Bat cave.” He smirks. “I like that. And yes, I did. Although I can always use it as a clothes hanger if you don’t want to be down here.”
Even though Ethan does his best to keep his voice lighthearted, I recognize a hint of insecurity as he makes his offer. He’s telling me I don’t need to be involved in this part of his life.
Rolling my chair closer to him—because there’s no way in hell I’m getting up without help—I reach for his hand. “Ethan, I love you. All parts of you,” I tell him honestly. “I’m in. I’m not sure I’ll be of much help with what you do since I know absolutely zilch about the computer stuff other than how to turn it off and on again, but I’m here in whichever way you need me. Besides, you’d never just hang your clothes on a chair.”
“You know me too well, bunny.” He smiles, his eyes getting a little watery, but he blinks to get rid of the unshed tears.
Like most men, Ethan is probably under the ridiculous notion that real men don’t cry. I’ll see about chipping away at that wall when I don’t have a crazy stalker after me.Anothercrazy stalker, that is.
“Did you find Adams?” I ask, scouring the various screens on the wall next to us. Most of them are camera feeds from outside the house and the street, but there are two brimming with information on Benjamin Adams, M.D. Not public information, either. Ethan seems to have dug up everything he could find, including Adams’ bank statements and his college exam results.
With a sigh, Ethan turns to the screens. “No, I didn’t.” He sounds genuinely embarrassed about it. “I underestimated him. After he first threatened you, I’ve been tracking his location using his phone. I thought it would be enough. But he’s smarter than I thought. He ditched his phone, his car, his credit cards, everything I could use to track him. He’s not been around his house, nor has he tried to contact any of his former friends. Not that anyone would risk being seen with him at this point. He’s lost everything, which makes him extremely dangerous.”
I shudder, remembering the dead cat in my car. Adams had no qualms butchering an innocent animal just to send me a message. I don’t even want to think what he’d do if he got his hands on me. And for what?
“It’s ridiculous.” I glare at Adams’ photo. “I’m not responsible for anything that’s happening to him. I’m not even on Aaron’s case anymore. Adams got me reassigned. What the fuck does he have against me?”
“He’s lost it,” Ethan replies, shrugging. “He needed someone to blame, and you were just conveniently there. It’s not your fault, Kayla.”
“Pfft. I know it’s not my fault. I just want him gone. I can’t hide out here forever. It’s…” I do a quick count in my head. “Saturday?” Has it only been three days since Ethan kidnapped me? It feels longer. “I’m happy to stay here for the weekend, but I need to go back to work on Monday. I’ve had this new job for only a month and I’ve already taken too many days off. If Director Smith didn’t desperately need more social workers to share the caseload, she would have fired me already.”
Ethan shakes his head. “Don’t worry about Victoria. I’ll handle her.”
“Oh, right, I forgot you two are buddies. Still, I need to go back to work. Is that going to be a problem?” I’m not just talking about Adams right now, and Ethan knows it.
He’s been treating me as if we were in a real relationship and I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, but he did kidnap me.
“No, Kayla, it’s not going to be a problem,” he replies seriously. “I know you love your work and you’re great at it. I’d never stop you from doing what you love, if that’s what you’re asking. The world needs your big heart. If I don’t find Adams by Monday, I’ll figure out a way to keep you safe.”
I shouldn’t be so happy about my boyfriend allowing me to go to work, but I know his worries come from a good place. Remembering the dead cat again, I’m grateful to have someone watching over me.
Chapter 44
Ethan
I’ve had plans forthe weekend with Kayla. Most of them involved my cock in her pussy or mouth. Or her ass, if she was up for that. None of them involved Benjamin fucking Adams.
He didn’t show up in the neighborhood again and, despite my best efforts, I haven’t been able to track him down. I even stole the newest version of the NSA’s facial recognition software and hooked it up to every single security camera feed in Bluebell Springs, but Adams is too smart to show his face. He went completely off the grid with an ease that has me worried.
I always considered him to be nothing but a superficial, arrogant jerk. Clearly, I’ve been wrong. Adams is anything but stupid and that dumb assumption has come back to bite me in the ass. I won’t underestimate him again.
Kayla plans on going back to work on Monday. Though I want nothing more than to lock her in my safe room and not let her out until Adams is dead, I know I can’t do that. I don’t just want her presence. I want her love and while Kayla might be heavily into CNC roleplaying, she doesn’t want to be locked up in a basement for real.
Kayla’s thighs are still sore, so instead of wild bondage sex sessions, we spend the weekend cuddling, kissing, watching movies, and talking about everything and anything, with one exception—my childhood and why I do what I do.
Every conversation we have, I expect Kayla to finally dig into that topic, to demand I tell her all the details of why and who and what and when, but she never does. She’s giving me space and I know I should be grateful, but I find myself wishing she’d ask already so that I can get it out in the open, like squeezing puss from a long festering wound.
“Are you alright?” Kayla asks, running her hand through the short hair on my chest.
We’re in bed, and I’ve just kissed and licked every square inch of her glorious body, with special attention paid to her delicious pussy. I made her come twice before letting her push me away, and her body is still quivering from exertion as I hold her in my arms.
