Claiming His Easter Bunny: A Bad Boy Novella

by Lulu Pratt

  “Why do you always ask such deep questions when we’re in the car?” He scrunched his eyebrows together as we waited to turn into the circular driveway of the restaurant.

  “I just want to know more about you. I didn’t know it would be off limits,” I reasoned, hoping he wouldn’t take my way out.

  “I never said it was off limits, it’s just depressing.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Trust me, I can take it,” I nodded.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Tristan sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling before he turned to me. “I told you about my brother passing away,” he began.

  “Yes,” I leaned in closer, desperate to hear every inflection.

  “Well, the whole thing tore my parents apart. Before, they were very happy. I had no doubt they loved each other. When he got sick, things were difficult, naturally. My parents blamed themselves, like many parents do. They bickered and spent more nights apart than together,” he continued as he pulled into the driveway.

  Valet drivers moved quickly to tend to the cars in front of us. Tristan licked his lips slowly before resuming. “You know, they wanted it to seem kind of normal, so I didn’t live in the hospital. But my parents didn’t want my brother alone, so one would stay there and the other with me.”

  “I understand,” I whispered.

  “When he passed, it took the life out of our world. My parents were miserable, instantly. I thought it was something that would pass, but it didn’t. It destroyed my family, the sickness and death. I saw how the love they had for my brother had devastated them, and decided I never wanted that for myself. It’s just too much of a gamble.”

  “So, you really did decide in childhood?” I wondered, having earlier only joked about it.

  “I really did,” he nodded.

  As Tristan finished his last word, a valet attendant opened my door, welcoming me to the restaurant with a smile and a hand. Accepting his assistance, I stepped out of the car with ease. The walkway was pristine, lined with a small manicured garden that led to the doorway.

  Cars quickly moved through the short driveway as the valet drivers completed their job with precision and urgency. You could tell they were busy, but I’d heard there was never a slow night. In Los Angeles, there was always a movie premiere or an album release, and they were all followed by after parties.

  “Shall we?” Tristan asked as he appeared at my side.

  I paused, watching him closely. After his revealing story, I instantly felt even closer to him. “Let’s shall,” I slipped my arm through his before following his lead down the narrow path.

  Chapter 14

  TRISTAN

  WHEN WE SETTLED into our seats, I was worried Ingrid might ask more questions about my parents or my brother. It was unlike me to be so open with someone I barely knew, but I didn’t feel the need to hide from her. In fact, a part of me felt like I was baiting her to ask the right question so that I could tell her.

  I’d never told anyone the reason I shied away from dating, and the revelation was a bit of a heavy burden I didn’t realize I was carrying. It felt good to exhale, but I didn’t care to dig further into the experience that was still fresh in my memory.

  Thankfully, Ingrid seemed not only to accept what I had shared as the full story, but her attitude did not shift to one of pity and sadness. It was the reason I never told anyone about it, certain they would feel sorry for me, or at the very least feel the heaviness of the burden alongside me. I didn’t want to burden anyone else, and she didn’t appear to be.

  “This place is expensive,” she leaned across the crisply starched white tablecloth to whisper.

  Glancing up from the menu, a deep smile spread across my face. She was gorgeous, in an innocent way I had not seen much of lately. Women interested in me were typically after something. Surely, they had no idea they would never get it, but still, they chased a dream with a famous doctor they’d set as their life goal.

  Ingrid was different, and unimpressed by what I did or the type of life it afforded me. She wanted to know more about me than what I did, and that was a first.

  “I can handle it,” I whispered back.

  Ingrid smiled, revealing her perfectly straight teeth, and I felt an urge building in my groin. She did something to me, and while I didn’t enjoy it, I didn’t wish it to go away. She wasn’t even trying, but just by being I wanted her more and more.

  “Good evening.” The waiter arrived dressed in a black tuxedo, which I thought was a bit over the top. But from the look on Ingrid’s face, I thought she might be impressed.

  “Tonight, the chef has requested to select each course for you, to pair with the wine of your choice,” he said before turning to me. “It is always an honor to host you, Dr. Hill, and we want nothing more than to show how much your attendance means to us.”

  I could feel Ingrid’s eyes on me, but I focused on the menu. It was the way I preferred dinner. I’ll tell you what I want to drink, and you cook something to compliment that selection.

  “We’ll have the Domaine de Trévallon Cabernet Sauvignon 2014,” I read from the menu before handing it to the waiter.

  Across the table, Ingrid’s eyes quickly scrolled through the list of wines before they shot up to me with shock. Eventually, she noticed the waiter waiting for her menu and gave it to him. After a quick nod of approval, he made his way to the back of the restaurant.

  “That wine is expensive!” She leaned across the table again, her whisper a bit louder than before.

  “Are we going to have to have a meeting here every time I order something?” I said, watching her cheeks flush the rosy red color that revealed her embarrassment.

  Slowly, she sat back and I followed suit. She looked around the dining area with a curiosity I couldn’t read. Other diners, lost in their own conversations and meals, paid her no attention, but I was intrigued by what she could possibly be thinking.

  “You look beautiful,” I interrupted her thoughts.

  The last thing I wanted was for her to feel like she didn’t belong. As though these people were somehow better than her. It was how I always felt at fancy restaurants, which made me like Ingrid more when she picked the burger joint for our first meal together.

  “It’s so strange that there’s this whole segment of society that gets dressed up in gowns for dinner. I’m just trying to take it all in. I doubt I’ll ever do it again,” she laughed, quickly gathering herself as though a soft giggle could be considered an outburst in the stiff crowd.

  “I should warn you, this will not be as filling or tasty as the heart attack burger,” I said.

  “Oh, I’ve got my eyes ready for the little tiny plates with food that looks like art,” she assured me and we shared a laugh just as the waiter returned with the wine.

  After we finished the drawn-out process of me testing and approving the wine, the waiter poured two glasses, leaving the bottle before leaving us alone.

  “This is delicious,” Ingrid smiled after her first sip of wine.

  “I’ve grown to love German wine,” I explained as she looked at the glass suspiciously.

  “This is German? I don’t think I’ve ever had German wine,” she raised her eyebrows before taking another sip.

  We sat in silence, our eyes connected as we gazed across the round dining table. There was an intense connection between us, though I wondered if only I could feel it. Ingrid was so elusive at times, hard to read. She never appeared affected by me, and I liked that, but it made it very difficult to gauge how well she was enjoying herself.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” I broke the silence.

  “You want to know about me?”

  “Yeah, you already know so much about me and my life. I think it’s only fair you return the favor,” I reasoned with a sip of wine. The bitterness tickled the back of my tongue delightfully.

  “Let’s see,” she slowly licked her lips. “I’m born and raised in LA. I’ve never ventured t
oo far, actually,” she scrunched her small nose at this.

  “You haven’t traveled?”

  “Not really,” she said as she sipped from her wine. “I mean, I’ve done the LA type of trips, you know. So, I’ve been to Big Bear and Joshua Tree. I’ve gone up to the bay more times than I can count, and the same with Vegas. But I’ve only been to New York once, and it was only for four days. I’ve never been to Miami, or anywhere in the south, for that matter.” She spoke like this was news to her.

  I imagined she’d never thought of it objectively. It was a characteristic I’d picked up about people from Los Angeles. They never left, claiming there was no reason to. California was said to have ocean and mountains, which apparently meant there was no reason to explore. A trip to Las Vegas was as foreign as they got.

  Watching Ingrid above my wine glass, I found myself wanting to give her more of the sweeter things in life. Beyond fancy dinners and expensive wine, I wanted to show her the world. It had been so long since I had traveled extensively, choosing to focus on work instead.

  There never was a reason to up and go, but sitting across from me at dinner, I felt I’d finally found it in Ingrid. She made me grateful to have all the material things I never cared too much about. It was now worth it to be able to watch her eyes light up every time I introduced her to something new.

  For the next two hours, I learned all about Ingrid’s childhood and college years as we enjoyed a five-course meal. She was intrigued by the mix of ingredients and immaculate plating, asking questions about every dish.

  It was one of my favorite evenings in recent memory, a rare occasion when I didn’t think of the hospital once. I never checked my phone or my watch, or even wondered who was on shift and what was scheduled. With Ingrid, I was present, and it felt refreshing.

  As the dessert arrived, I felt the sinking feeling I’d experienced before, knowing our time together would soon end. I had to shake the feeling, chuckling at my own ridiculous behavior.

  “What’s funny?” Ingrid questioned.

  After a long pause, staring into her deep blue eyes, I told her the truth, as I always did. “I’ve just had a really great time with you.”

  She watched me intensely, her eyes narrowing before her smile revealed itself. “Me too, Tristan. Me too.”

  Chapter 15

  INGRID

  THE RIDE HOME felt torturous. I didn’t want the date to end, but quickly had to remind myself that it wasn’t a date. Tristan didn’t want to take things any further, and I respected that because neither did I. After the tumultuous break-up with my ex, I needed time away from men. They weren’t worth the effort, but Tristan was different.

  We’d had a connection at dinner, or so I thought. It was more than some reward for a volunteer. What I felt coursing between us had nothing to do with the hospital at all. We had suspended the professional connection for something that felt more real and natural.

  He was so much more than a doctor. And after my first evening with him, I’d done enough online research to know how well respected he was in his career field. As I learned more about him, his dedication to his work made more sense. Of course he had to be overly committed to reach the level of success that he had. Patients traveled from every corner of the world for his expertise. His accomplishments were impressive, but getting to know him personally was what meant the most to me.

  It was the first time we’d rode in silence for the entire trip. I was lost in my thoughts, and Tristan appeared to be more focused on the road than sparking conversation. While the silence wasn’t awkward, there was a strange tension building between us, one I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

  When Tristan arrived at my townhouse, the air in the car was so thick, I desperately wanted out. He looked at me, but I couldn’t read the feeling in the green swirls of his hazel eyes.

  “Do you want to come in?” I regretted the question as soon as I asked it.

  Of course, he didn’t want to come in. There was nothing more to discuss. He was a doctor who wanted to take a volunteer out as a reward and he had done that. There was no reason to come into my small townhouse when he probably lived in a mansion in the hills.

  “Yes.”

  His answer left me breathless.

  Was he also feeling what I felt? I couldn’t know for sure, but the tone in his deep voice was one of urgency and I quickly opened the car door before leading us to my townhouse. The fresh air was a welcomed release, feeling the cool night wind on my blushing cheeks.

  I could feel Tristan behind me as I fumbled with the keys, rushing to get into my safe zone. I had no idea why I was so nervous, but butterflies fluttered in my belly anxiously as the key finally turned.

  After crossing the threshold, I instinctively turned to lock the door, colliding with Tristan’s strong torso. My lips parted, but I couldn’t find the words to apologize as they were lost in his trance.

  Slowly, he stepped forward, and I didn’t budge. Our bodies were tightly pressed against one another as he searched my eyes. Could he feel how deeply I wanted him? Was it possible that he could want me, too?

  He answered with a soft kiss on my lips, setting my entire body on fire. Lifting onto my toes, I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue across his lips. Tristan took that as all the permission he needed, gripping the nape of my neck as his tongue danced with mine.

  Our greedy hands raced over each other’s bodies as we bumped into the wall of my narrow foyer. When I pulled away from the kiss, panting, I looked to Tristan for restraint.

  “Are you sure we should do this?” I questioned, unable to lie and say I wanted to stop. I wanted this more than anything, I wanted it more than I had wanted something in years. My body was screaming for him.

  “Do we even have a choice?” He growled before kissing my neck with the same passion and intensity he’d shown my lips.

  A soft moan escaped me as my knee lifted so my leg could drape around his body. Tristan welcomed the invasion, slipping his hand up my dress slit until he was gripping my ass roughly. It was all happening so fast, yet I felt every movement as though it were in slow motion. His tongue swirled around my neck, tickling the delicate skin as he pulled at the lace of my already sopping panties.

  I began tugging at his belt buckle, excited when I freed his manhood. His heavy length fell into my hand, hot to the touch. Before I could stop myself, I dropped to my knees, craving a taste of him.

  “Ingrid, wait,” he urged, but I paid him no mind, sliding his thickness to the back of my throat as I suctioned my cheeks. When a soft groan fell from his lips, I knew I’d gotten my way.

  Bobbing my head back and forth, I felt him harden against my tongue until his erection grew so intense his length curled upwards to his stomach.

  “Come here, I need to feel you,” he growled, yanking my wrist until I was back on my feet. In a rush, we burst into my living room, falling to the sofa as Tristan tugged at my dress. The delicate lace of my panties was no match for his strength, crumbling with little effort.

  “Do you have a condom?” he asked.

  I pulled one out of my purse which I had dropped on the floor. I had found it in there earlier in the evening as I had gone to freshen my lipstick. I tossed the wrapped condom at him and he expertly caught it. I watched for a moment as he tore open the wrapper and unrolled the condom along his length.

  I sat down beside him and he turned to me instantly, pushing me into the cushions. Spreading my legs, Tristan penetrated me slowly. I cried out with pleasure as he stretched my body, plunging deep inside my sweetness. He wasted no time in finding a rhythm, grinding against me in slow and controlled waves as I wrapped my legs around him.

  We were nearly fully dressed, too hungry to worry about undressing. But now, he pulled my breast out of my dress, cupping my body as he leisurely plunged into me.

  It had been so long since I felt the heaviness of a man, breathed their scent and tasted the saltiness of their sweat. My tongue ran along Tristan’s neck, which I kne
w from the sound of his groan that followed, turned him on. He tasted sweet and tangy, delicious, intoxicating.

  Our bodies collided faster and faster as our hands worked quickly to free more flesh from the clothes. Tearing at his shirt, white buttons popped before revealing the hardened abs I’d felt earlier.

  He was a god, his body perfectly sculpted. My legs spread further, wanting to feel him deeper. Reading the cue, Tristan lifted himself before thrusting into me aggressively. It was just the pressure I needed, and I felt my body begin to build in waves that threatened to send me overboard into a sea of sensations.

  Chapter 16

  TRISTAN

  THE SOUNDS FROM Ingrid were driving me too fast to a release I wanted to savor. With her soft body in my hands, I felt I could conquer anything. She was so sexy, so sensitive, and her body so welcoming.

  “Yes! Yes! Right there!” she cried, gripping me in a way that let me know she was close. I didn’t want her to climax so soon, though, so I slowed my rhythm, forcing her body to follow along. She was completely at my will, and I wanted to give her nothing but supreme satisfaction.

  With every stroke, she grew wetter, her body gripping me tightly. It was all I could do to stop myself from following my instinct, the primal need to release. But I wanted to extend the pleasure for as long as possible. There was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be, lost inside her as she called my name softly in my ear.

  Soon, the urge burning within was too strong to fight any longer. I was nearing an explosion, tightening my abdomen for restraint. With Ingrid’s legs wrapped tightly around my torso, I thrust in and out of her with every ounce of passion I contained.

  “Come for me, Ingrid,” I growled, the animalistic need prevalent in my voice. My body surged to her, gripping onto her dress for dear life.

  “Tristan!” My name sounded best falling from her lips, doused in pleasure while her beautiful face relaxed just before her climax washed over her. I could see the ecstasy in the way her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her eyes falling closed just as her grip weakened.