Page 61 of Claiming His Bunny
He narrows his eyes at me. “Cheeky. And this was different. I kept my distance from you. Well, mostly…” he admits, his mouth twitching in a suppressed smile. “And to answer your question, no, not everything I do is just to maintain my ‘good guy’ cover. It may have started that way, but…” He trails off, shrugging.
“You grew a life here,” I finish for him. “The fake friends aren’t fake anymore? I saw you with your opponents during the dart tournament. Nothing about the way you interacted with them was fake.”
“It’s not fake. I know you must see me as a monster, Kayla, but I’m not a psychopath. I have emotions, real ones. Strong ones.” He leans across the table to cup my cheek, his thumb sliding over my lips, making my breath hitch. “I just don’t follow the same rules as everyone else.”
I sigh. “I can’t say I support vigilante justice in general. But… I guess I’m a hypocrite because I believe in what you do.”
“You do?”
“Yes, Ethan, I do,” I reply, a shiver of excitement running through me as I imagine myself wearing a white dress, saying the same words. Ethan is definitely not the only messed up person here. Since he still doesn’t seem to believe that I support his crusade, I reach over the table to touch his hand. “Do you want proof? I’ll give you a list.”
“A list?” He draws his brows together into a confused frown. “What list? You don’t need to prove anything to me, Kayla. Just your presence here is more than I ever hoped for. More than I deserve,” he adds quietly, lowering his eyes to study my hand as if it were the most interesting object in the universe.
“A list of people,” I specify, fully aware that what I’m about to say would make me an accomplice to his crimes. “I worked at the CPS department in Kansas City for three years. I met a lot of terrible people. Most of them probably won’t fit your profile, but some…” I shudder in disgust as I remember the cases I worked on. “Sometimes, we just knew. We knew something terrible was happening, but without proof…”
Ethan squeezes my hand, silently offering comfort. “I’ll look at whatever you want to share with me, Kayla, but you really don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be afraid—”
“Afraid of a local dart champion who posed shirtless with puppies for a charity calendar? Oh wait, you aren’t actually a champion anymore, are you?” I tease, grinning widely. “You lost that last match.”
Ethan’s grip on my hand turns from comforting to restraining. My nipples react by tightening as if they were trying to poke holes through my T-shirt. “I did lose that match,” he agrees, his voice low, “becausesomeonedistracted me.”
“Really?” I flutter my eyelashes, teasing him. “And who was that terrible person?”
He stalks closer, still holding my hand so I can’t retreat even if I wanted to. “There was this woman,” he starts. Leaning over me, he grabs my hair with his free hand, tilting my head back. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she put a spell on me. I lost because winning didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered but her.”
His breath whispers over my cheeks, his lips so close I could kiss him if I leaned forward a little. Which I can’t because his grip on my hair holds me in place. “And…” I roughly swallow, distracted by the dark hunger in his eyes. “What did you plan to do to this woman?”
Ethan snaps his teeth so close to the tip of my nose that I yelp out in fright. “All kinds of things,” he rasps. “I really wanted that damn trophy, so I’ve been planning ways to punish this seductress for distracting me.”
“P-punish?” Oh god, yes, please!
Chapter 35
Ethan
Kayla watches me withwide eyes, and I wonder if I haven’t gone too far. She hinted at wanting to play out some sexual fantasies about being kidnapped, but how am I supposed to know what she wants and what is too much?
I’ve never as much as spanked a partner during sex. Or restrained them.
Kayla was the first, and I can already see that I fucked up with the handcuffs because there are bruises forming around her wrists. I’ll need to use something softer next time. If there is a next time.
I’ve intentionally avoided these kinks. Not because the thought of having a tied-up woman to play with as I please doesn’t excite me, but because it excites me too much.
I’ve always been afraid that I would take it too far. That the darkness inside me would take over, and I’d do something terrible, something I’d regret for the rest of my life. After all, I torture and kill people without a shred of remorse. What if that part of me surfaces when I’m with a woman? With Kayla?
Then again, the darkness inside me doesn’t seem to want to hurt Kayla. It never has, not even at my lowest, when I was completely unhinged from the Oberman mess. Back then, I was barely in control of myself and yet, I never even thought of hurting her. I took without asking, but even that I did carefully, making sure she wouldn’t be hurt.
Maybe I could give Kayla what she wants and enjoy myself in the process. I just have to be careful not to step over the line. Which is damn hard when I don’t know where that line is.
“P-punish?” she squeaks, her eyes wide as saucers. “But…but I didn’t do anything. I just went to a bar with my coworkers. You can’t punish me for that.”
Right. That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Letting go of Kayla’s hair, I crouch in front of her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” I start, but she puts her finger to my mouth.
“Hold that thought, big guy,” she says, rubbing her forehead. “I think we’re going to need a safeword or something, because I want to be able to say no without you stopping and apologizing.”
I blink. Then blink again. I know what she’s saying. I know what she wants. And damn, I want it too, but the fear lingers. What if I snap and hurt her? What if I like it too much? What if she begs me to stop and all I can think about is my victims, about the way they begged me to spare their lives just before the paralytic took hold?
Damn, what if I’m too messed up for this?
