I exhale a little laugh. “I hope the trade-off is worth it.”
“Mm-hmm.” His beard tickles the side of my face and I hear a possessive growl in my ear before he squeezes me a little tighter and murmurs, “Mine.”
“All yours,” I tell him. “Forever.”
Jack lets out another low rumble, but this one sounds closer to a purr than a growl. “I like the sound of that. Mine to use, mine to hurt. Mine to break and put back together.” His cock, pressed against my ass, stiffens as he says again, “All mine.”
4
JACK
I’ve already put Bunny’s box of supplies in the truck and I’m waiting for him in the living room when he bounds down the stairs and throws his arms around me.
“Thank you for coming with me, Jack,” he mumbles into my neck. “This means a lot to me. Really, it does.”
I’d been mentally grumbling to myself about how excruciating I expect this to be, but Bunny’s effusive gratitude catches me by surprise. “Uh-huh. Are you ready to go?” I’d say more, but there’s a weird prickly feeling in the back of my throat.
When I look him up and down after he steps back from the embrace, though, a thought hits me. “Is that what you’re wearing?” I nod towards his white button-down and the dark-blue jeans he breaks out for special occasions.
“Well, I didn’t put this on just to sit around the house,” he says, sounding amused.
I feel my lip curl. “Don’t be a smartass.” I surreptitiously sneak a glance down at myself, evaluating my plaid shirt and cargo pants. Bunny’s lips quirk up and I glower at him, daring him to say something.
When we get into my truck ten or so minutes later, I feel Bunny’s eyes on me. I changed into a dark-red button-down and black jeans, and I stood for longer than I’d like to admit in front of the bathroom mirror, debating my hair: Ponytail, bun or just leave it down? I settled on the bun.
Bunny’s hair is in a ponytail. It’s so cute I can’t resist reaching over and giving it a tug. “You’re ogling me,” I tease.
He shrugs. “You’re hot. I can’t help it.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Dumb bunny,” I mutter, but a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth when I see the glow in his eyes.
When we get to the store, I give Bunny a hand carrying his shit inside and then help him set everything up. We’re accompanied by a short redhead who’s apparently Olivia and a tall woman with black hair and bright purple glasses named Gina who’s her friend or assistant or something.
Olivia introduces herself first, slipping a cool, dry hand into mine. “Addy told me so much about you! It’s really nice to meet you.”
I snort. “You sure about that?”
Olivia looks surprised for a blink before cracking a grin. “You’re funny.”
That’s actually not true, but it doesn’t seem worth an argument, so I just let out a hum. Bunny’s given name sounds strange in her mouth. It’s also weird seeingAdair Stanton, Illustratorprinted on the banner I hold while Gina tapes it to the front of a long folding table. “Thanks for the help,” she says afterwards, giving me an overly-bright smile.
“Yeah.” I give her a nod and get the hell away from the table, where people are starting to gather.
I had assumed that since it was being held in a bookstore, this event of Bunny’s would be like being in a library. As in, relatively quiet.
I was dead wrong. I sure did not expect all the squealing. Hopefully I’ve got a bottle of ibuprofen stashed in the console of my truck, because at this point, I’m definitely going to leave here with a fucking headache.
I scan the room. There are clusters of people milling around, while others form a line that trails almost all the way to the front door. I’m not thrilled to be surrounded by a crowd for the next two hours. But I am glad for Bunny’s sake that apparently a lot of people like… whatever it is that Olivia writes. I think it’s that werewolf smut he likes. Figure I’m better off not knowing.
“Are you here for the book signing? Is this the line?” After a moment, I realize the question is directed at me and look down. A brunette who looks about Bunny’s age flutters long eyelashes at me.
“Uh, not exactly.” I take a step back. “I’m not on line.”
The woman pushes her lower lip out into a pout. “That’s too bad. I was hoping I’d get to stand next to you for the next fifteen minutes.”
“Nope.” I shrug. She looks at me for a minute like she expects me to say more; when I don’t, she makes her way over to the line.
“Is this the end of the line?” Can’t be more than a few minutes later. I groan inwardly. This one has blond hair in a tight ponytail and eye makeup that gives her a vaguely feline appearance.
