by Gabi Moore
I pulled back and looked at him, eyes wet.
“And now you ask me to marry you?”
I gave him a hard shove and broke free of his hold, and in an instant my fists were pummeling his chest.
“Em, hey Em, just calm down, please…”
“You asshole! I was all alone here! I trusted you!”
I was sobbing loudly now, pulling against him as he tried to restrain my wrists. And all at once his lips went to mine. And I didn’t resist them.
Even though I was still crying, I stopped fighting him. My wrists went limp in his hands and the tension melted out of me, out through my angry body, down and out through the floor like something molten. My body shuddered as I cried against him, and all at once I felt how warm his body was against mine, how deliciously solid her felt and how it good it was just to press against him.
Before I could understand what was happening, he pushed back against me, pulling me firmly to him and up into a deep, deep kiss. It took me a moment just to breathe, just to relax into that sweetness for a second… I wanted to be angry at him. I wanted to let him know just how painful it was to lose him, and for him to feel how he had hurt me. But my fists had loosened and rolled open again. It was impossible to hate him.
I groaned and rose up onto my toes to kiss him tentatively. Could he soothe the hurt he had caused me all those years ago? Our lips were warm and soft and delicate with each other, as though we had to ease our way into kissing again, trying to remember the old ways our lips used to fit together, surprised by how little had changed.
My hands spread wide over his back, stroking over the rippled muscles there, then I couldn’t help but let them slip down and under the warm cotton of his shirt, onto his silky hot skin. In an instant he raised his arms up high and peeled the shirt off, tossing it aside and looking back down at me again with tenderness in his eyes. This time we kissed with more confidence, throwing ourselves into it with relish, like we were both frantic to find a way to kiss everywhere all at once.
His hands went to the curve of my hips and squeezed and rolled, nearly lifting me off the floor as my hips ground against his. I was on fire. A buzzing ache right at my clit thumped desperately against my jeans. Lips still on mine, his hands undid the button, then pulled the zip down.
I gasped.
“Felix …Felix, I…”
“Shhh,” he said, and kissed away my protests. How could I protest, when he was being so perfectly persuasive? He was the same old Felix I knew and loved, but there was something else in him now. Something a little bit dangerous. Darker. His body was much more toned than before. His movements were more sure, more commanding. He was no longer the goofy boy I had spent lazy Sunday afternoons with back in the day. This was a man. A firm, in control man with abs that felt like rocks under my fingertips and a way of curling his body around mine that made me lightheaded and tingly all over.
He yanked my jeans down a few inches and then, lips still locked in mine, slid his hand inside my jeans and into the cotton of my underwear, cupping a greedy hand between my legs. I gasped for air, letting my head fall back. Fuck. I really had missed him. The thick bulge of his hard cock was pressing against my thigh, and I felt my whole body pulse in response. Oh fuck.
One finger dipped down to the soaking entrance of my pussy and hovered there, before sinking in slowly and surely, making my whole body curl and rise up off the floor. Face close to mine, our eyes glued to one another’s, he smiled at me in delight, and slid in another. I melted around him. I hadn’t been touched in so long. And it felt so fucking good I thought I’d scream. It was nothing compared to how he penetrated my eyes, though. He stared deeply at me, watching mesmerized as I wriggled and writhed at how gorgeous it felt to be opened up by him, to be stretched and teased and claimed like this, after so long… I had never been watched so intently before.
“You like that,” he said, half question, half statement.
I nodded.
In went one more finger, this time finding even more delicious resistance, pushing a silent gasp from my throat that had me clutching at his shoulders to steady myself.
“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled to my cheek, and pressed his fingers in as deep as they’d go, slid them back out and them pressed inside again, stirring up a slow, maddening rhythm that had my hips chasing after him, desperate for more. He looked down at my eager face and smiled.
“Wow, you really do like that,” he growled and picked up the pace, his other hand still clasped around my wrist. I moaned and sunk down harder onto his hand, still balancing on my toes. I pulled hard against his grasp on my wrist but he held me firm. He wasn’t going to let go of me.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” he moaned, moving deeper and deeper into the rhythm, the most delicious stretch thumping all the way through me.
“Me too,” I breathed.
His cock came out bouncing hot and rock hard as he yanked down his own jeans, then pulled me closer again. Slowly, he pulled out his glistening fingers, then grabbed himself and guided the swollen head of his dick between my thighs. I spread my legs a little accommodate him, suddenly unable to contain the urgent ache where his fingers had just been, frantic for him to touch me again.
“Hm, I love how much you want this,” he purred into my ear and smiled. Hi other hand squeezed hard around my wrist. Very hard. Maybe a little too hard.
And then all at once I thought of Buck.
My body went cold. What the fuck. Felix was slowly stroking himself against my wet clit, teasing me there, making me rise even further onto my toes to meet him. But all I could think about was Buck. And the other nameless, faceless jocks. Waves of weird nausea flushed through me and I felt like I had suddenly woken from a dizzy spell.
I put my hand out to his chest and stopped him from coming any closer. He looked at me, concerned.
“Maybe we shouldn’t…”
“Oh, I definitely, positively think we should,” he said naughtily, but there it was again. There was that fucking …smile. I couldn’t explain it. That smile that could have been a jeer, could have been an insult. He was making fun of me. Of how much I wanted him. Flustered, I pushed him away. He looked confused.
“Em?”
“I just …I don’t want to do this, OK?” I said, and quickly pulled my jeans back up again and tried to smooth the loose tendrils of hair around my face. Embarrassed, he quickly did the same.
“Oh, yeah, of course, it’s my fault, I didn’t want to push you or anything,” he began saying, but looked like he ran out of steam just to look at the expression on my face.
“Was it something I did?” he said, looking a little pathetic.
The trouble with having a bad reputation is that you can never be sure how people would have treated you if they had known you for you, without the reputation. There’s just always a parallel universe running beside yours, one where people just treat you like normal. Felix was the only one who had known me before everything turned sour in my life. Didn’t he care that I was ‘damaged goods’ now? Could he tell that I was different somehow, by looking at me, by …touching me? And an even worse thought: what if he was no better than Buck, trying to take advantage because he thought I was easy? I couldn’t decide what I felt – petrified that he’d be disgusted with me, or insulted that he wasn’t disgusted at all?
I straightened out my t-shirt and shrugged, trying to gather myself.
“Look, will you just finish up loading the machine? I’m going home. You can lock up when you’re done,” I said briskly, then walked out before he could try convince me to stay.
After an anonymous person posted that video everywhere for the world to see, I had stopped expecting people to treat me with anything other than disdain. And now Felix was in the picture, desperately trying to pretend that he didn’t care about my past. I know I should have been grateful that someone was willing to date the notorious Miss Fuck Bunny herself.
But I wasn’t grateful. I was suspicious.
&n
bsp; Chapter 9 - Felix
It was icy between us for a good while. But hell, after not seeing her for five solid years, it felt like a privilege even to have an argument with her.
She came into the bakery the next morning and said nothing, and I followed suit and did the same. She was good at that – pretending. But even after our time apart I could still recognize all her tells. I knew she was more worried about the bakeries money situation than she was letting on. I knew that she took her responsibilities more seriously than she let on, and didn’t admit just how much was riding on the bakery pulling through.
And of course, I knew that she wasn’t really as angry with me as she appeared. So I lay low. I mopped the floors, I hung around, waiting. I’m not sure what exactly I was waiting for, but I waited. It was a bright morning, one where you can just feel the first little movements of spring gearing up, and I felt sure that she’d soon warm up to me too. That she’d confess she was just confused, just hurt. That she’d come around eventually. I can’t explain how I knew that she wanted me, I just knew. I just saw it, written in bold all over her beautiful face. I just had to wait for her to realize it.
I turned the corner and felt a spring in my step. I deliberately put extra weight on my knee, then, pleased it didn’t hurt, put a bit more. I was pleased with my progress. I was getting stronger, everyday. I walked on briskly, keen to get to the store and open up before she arrived. I don’t know why I liked doing that, but I liked being there first. I liked welcoming her inside. Silly, I know.
Lost in my thoughts, I nearly didn’t hear the stranger address me the first time around. I turned to see a guy in front of me, calling my name.
“Felix?”
I looked over and saw a guy in a suit walking quickly over to me from the other side of the road. My body tensed. I didn’t recognize him.
“Hey are you Felix? You work at Warren’s Bakery?” he said, a weird smile on his lips.
I nodded but something in me felt a little on edge.
“Sure, yeah, I work there,” I said. He didn’t look like the kind to go running after an ex-Mars program mini celebrity, but who knows.
“Yeah, cool, cool, I love that place, just thought I’d seen you around somewhere. Hey, aren’t you the guy that came back from the mission?” he asked, eyes squinting a little in the sun as he looked at me incredulously.
I nodded and smiled. I really needed to open up shop early this morning.
“You are! Huh, awesome! So uh, you’re working at a …a bakery?”
I officially felt irritated. I turned to carry on walking on my way. I didn’t have time to explain to people why humble, honest work right now was in fact a massive step up, was a blessing actually, and that I was too tired these days to play hero for anyone.
“Well, it is a hell of a bakery,” I said drily and carried on walking. He trotted beside me and kept talking.
“Hey uh, you wouldn’t happen to know Emily Warren would you?”
I slowed a little.
“Sure. She’s the owner,” I said. I didn’t know what this guy’s deal was but I wanted him gone.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s the owner. Old college friend of mine actually, how’s she doing?” he asked.
I stopped in my tracks and looked at him. The expression on his face felt like a challenge, but I didn’t know what he was getting at. He was tall, but clearly out of shape. Your classic aging High School jock who seems to never quite shake that ill-behaved, locker room vibe. His work clothes fit him poorly.
“Hey, is there something I can do for you?” I asked sharply. He kept smiling, like him and I were both in on some massive, hilarious secret.
“Nah, nothing like that man. But shit, must be a few perks to working for the splendid miss Warren, right?” he said and gave me slimy smile. I wanted to punch him.
“I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean,” I said, trying to sound cool. Would this fucker ever stop grinning at me?
“You uh… you guys an item or what?” he said, trying another tack.
Within a few minutes I’d be at the shop. And I was tired of this clown holding me up. I said nothing. He sprang back, eyes wide, as though I had just told the funniest dirty joke.
“Woahhhh! So you are screwing her! Nice work buddy. Getting in there with the boss lady, I approve,” he said and extended his fist to me. I took no notice of him and walked on. For the first time, his face dropped a little and he stopped smiling. He walked on with me for a few more paces and then started up again.
“You do …you do know about her, right?” he said in a completely different tone of voice. I didn’t know what he was getting at, but I didn’t like it one bit. I didn’t like his ugly suit and I didn’t like how familiar he was being and I didn’t like his smug face. I stopped and looked at him again. I was already going to be late.
“Know what about her?” I could see the cogs churning behind his eyes.
“Seriously? Emily Warren? Have you been living under a rock or something?”
“Yeah. A great big fucking red one, as a matter of fact. Look, I have to get going--”
He laughed and slapped his hands together.
“So you don’t know,” he said with relish. “That’s fucking priceless.”
I eyed him with irritation. I had never met this asshole in my life. An ex of Emily’s? It hurt to even think about. So I didn’t think about it.
He put his arm around my shoulder like he was my best bud and leaned in close.
“Emily Warren, my good man, is like, the town slut, right? She was really wild in college. Really wild. Totally lost her shit and did about half the football team, you name it, she sucked it,” he laughed.
I threw his arm from off my shoulder and shot him a poisonous look. “I don’t know who the fuck you are but I’ve had just about enough,” I hissed at him under my breath. He backed off a little, holding his hands up in defense but still smiling that big, irritating smile.
“Dude, just trying to help.”
“You’ve got the wrong Emily,” was all I could think of to say. We walked on together.
“Nah, man. I’m serious. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were… in any case, I’m not lying. Don’t believe me? Watch the video.”
I wasn’t sure if my leg had started hurting again or if I was just about to burst with rage for this asshole that had for some reason appeared smack bang in the middle of my perfect morning to talk shit about Emily. I said nothing.
“Yeah, it’s a classic. Try searching for “Fuck Bunny”, she never even bothered to get the video taken down. I guess while you were up there blowing up grow houses or whatever, we were all down here sampling miss Warren’s peach cobbler, if you know what I mean.”
I swung around swiftly and slammed the heels of both hands square into his chest, sending him staggering backwards.
“Will you fuck the hell off?” I yelled. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes, but soon the smarmy smile was back on his face and he was gathering himself again.
“Dude, whatever, just wanted to let you know who you were dealing with,” he said, with a haughty shrug. He cracked his knuckles, took one look down at my limping leg and smirked.
“Who are you? Her ex?” I said as I saw him walking off. “What’s your name?”
“Buck Johnson,” he said with a little triumphant skip in his step. “Don’t let it make you mad, bro, I’m sure she’s not so bad anymore, just forget I said anything.”
I stood for a moment, mind racing. It had to be bullshit. The whole thing was just too ridiculous. But why would a complete stranger come out of nowhere to warn me about Emily? I knew she had dropped out of college, and before I left I had heard she was having a hard time with her old man dying. But ...this didn’t sound like her at all. It couldn’t be true. Now way. Not the Emily I knew. He was just a bitter ex, some twisted fuck who was trying to stir shit or something. It had to be. I walked on, so quickly I was nearly running. I should have punched him in the face w
hen I had the chance.
By the time I reached the bakery she was standing outside, unwinding the awning and giving me a smile even warmer than the yellow spring sun around us. He had to be right? “Fuck Bunny”? It had to be a mistake.
“Hey Em.”
“Felix! There you are. Come inside and look at the Easter cakes, you’re gonna love this,” she said and raced inside, beckoning me to follow her.
What if he was on to something though? I guess it would be an easy thing to verify. Just search “Fuck Bunny” and see what came up. Easy. That would clear all this up. I followed her, put down my coat and went over to see her and Becky fussing over a few pastel colored Easter cakes and cupcakes. I had to say, they looked kind of sweet.
“They’re rainbow colored on the inside, see? So each time you cut them in half, like this, ta da!” she said and showed me a pretty white cupcake sliced in half, revealing a joyful rainbow of pink, green and yellow on the inside. They were beautiful.
“Awesome,” I said, looking out at the spread. I liked seeing her excited like this.
“Why no carrot cake though? It is Easter. Don’t you need, like, bunnies and chocolate eggs and things?” I asked casually.
I saw Becky’s entire body freeze as she slid her gaze onto the floor. Emily paused as well.
“What? Is that out of fashion these days? I’m a guy, I don’t know about cakes, sorry,” I said, trying to sound casual. But they were acting strange.
“Guys, what? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, Felix, just drop it. We don’t do any carrot themed things in this bakery, that’s all. No bunnies and stuff, I hate it,” she said, and just like that she had turned away from me and was prattling on with Becky about how to price the cakes, the tension of the moment whizzing by. But my blood was slowly going cold. It came together in my mind like something nasty congealing. Bunnies. She hated bunnies. It was just a stupid coincidence. It was nothing. Wasn’t it?