Esther beams, making her way down the hall to us in an oversized Eggstravaganza ‘22 t-shirt, and little black leggings. I’ve always been attracted to fur coats (faux, of course—I’m an animal lover, naturally), but I have to admit, Esther could wear anything and I’d be hard.
“Chelsey made carrot cake,” she says, smiling so big it feels like Easter in my pants. She motions to the living area, whereflyers are strewn about the coffee table, two identical Kindle’s charging on the love seat adjacent. “Let’s get started!”
Two hundred and seventy three flyers folded, two slices of carrot cake each and we’re absolutely gassed. Sitting across from Esther, trying not to let myself get lost in her blue eyes, in the soft swish of her hair and the way she licks icing off the tines of her fork. I bet she looks hot as hell eating a raw carrot. I bet she likes them big and peeled, and can?—
“Jack?” Chelsey interrupts me from a fantasy I have no business having in mixed company.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I place another folded map on the table.
“I was just asking you, do you believe in insta-love?”
I look between my mate and her sister, both of them chewing on their bottom lips, eyes wide, like they’ll die if my answer isn’t— “of course I do.” With were-bunnies, we find our mate and that’s that. Doesn’t matter if her hop is too shallow, if her teeth aren’t sharp, or if her carrot planting skills are weak. Were-bunnies mate for life. Regular bunnies don’t. They’re major hoes. But were-bunnies are loyal.
Esther smiles. “Me, too.”
We continue working on the scavenger hunt maps, and my fingers are sore and tired, but I don’t stop because being hereearns me time with her. Time to hear her laugh, to listen to her talk about her favorite music and the best places she’s ever vacationed (makes my heart thump hard when Carrot Creek makes the list). But being across from her for hours is absolutely driving me mad, and there’s only so much knee bouncing and behind the ear scratches I can do to self-soothe. The carrot cake isn’t helping, serving as an aphrodisiac since it’s my all-time favorite.
A subtle hint of cinnamon has been hanging in the air since I’ve been here, but with my desires shifted into high gear and Esther’s hair in loose waves around her face, I need a break. Excusing myself to use the restroom, I follow the subtle scent, sniffing my way down the hall and into Esther’s room. Of course the scent is related to her, I should have known it would lead me to her room. The only thing to stir me up this way is her.
Expecting to find an open suitcase full of her underwear or something equally tawdry, I’m stumped when I step inside her room and discover nothing out of sorts. No sweaty sports bra or worn yoga pants sending me the spicy scent to lure me close, no bottle of perfume left out, no silky pajamas from last night strewn over the bed. Nothing but a made bed, zipped suitcase and a bookshelf full of books.
Turning, I face the shelf and tip my head sideways, and begin reading the titles on the spines. After scanning a few, I realize, these are all romance novels.
I know Chelsey loves her romance novels, she’s told me as much, and I’ve seen her in a slew of bookish sweatshirts over the years. These must be hers. Selecting one calledMilky, I pull the book out and survey the title page, surprised to see the book is signedto Esther.
A conversation with Chelsey comes to mind, from when she first moved to Carrot Creek. She told me she and her sister splitup their things equally, and I have to assume the book collection was one of them.
Turning a few pages, I jump into the story, and read a few lines, curious to discover what my mate likes, what gets her going.
I can’t keep still, shifting my body weight from foot to foot as I consume page after page. The book is torrid and twisted, but sweet and lovely, too. And the thing that has my heart racing is the content.
A woman loves a vacuum, and a man.
It is so unlike anything I’ve heard of, anything I even knew existed, and suddenly, being a ware-bunny doesn’t feel like a curse, and proving myself to Esther doesn’t feel so hopeless.
She understands unconventional and unexpected love.
I keep turning the page, reading a spicy scene where Chip, the hero of the story, fucks Herb, the vacuum, while he goes down on the heroine. A sordid, unusual three-way if I’ve ever read one.
Before I know it, my whispers are twitching and I’m hopping around Esther’s room, so horny that I won’t be able to leave until I find some release, even just a sliver.
After what feels like eternity, Esther cracks open the door, calling for me. “Jack? Are you okay? You’ve been in here a while and?—”
Looping my ear around her ankle, I drag her inside the room and hit the door closed with my hind legs.
She gasps when she sees me, in full Hopper form, hard cock so thick and agitated that it bobs, touching the ground. My paws on her face, I look into her eyes. “You like a book about a woman who loves a vacuum cleaner,” I whisper, in case Chelsey is lurking outside the door. I’m sure Chelsey also loves the vacuum cleaner romance, since it’s part of what she kept, but that comment isn’t what I’m afraid of her overhearing. “You aremy mate, don’t you see? I’ve been telling you, showing you what you do to me, the way you make me shift but now, this is proof. I couldn’t be fated to a mate who doesn’t understand that not all love looks alike. But you, Esther Basquette,you understand.”
She blinks down at my huge, furry cock, much larger when I’m Hopper than when I’m Jack. But don’t get it twisted, I’m a big boy as Jack, too. Still, she’s in awe as she stares at it, twisting her head to peer down at it from all angles. She swallows thickly, and I recognize the look in her eyes.
“I want to mate you so bad” I explain, foot thumping mindlessly, my ears tingling. “But Easter is coming. And I want to keep up my end of the deal. I want to see the Eggstravaganza before I ask you to be my mate. I want to keep my word.” It’s important that I do. All good were-bunnies are bunnies of their word.
Finally, her wide blue eyes come to mine, and she rubs her thumb down my chest, playing with my fur. “Was it being close to me? Why did you shift?”
I love hearing the word shift in her sweet voice. I love that she’s already so accepting of it. “Yes, you’ve had me crazy all night. I followed the cinnamon scent that’s been teasing me all night, needing a break from staring at your beauty. But it led me here. To your book shelf.”
She eyes the copy ofMilkyin my hands. “I love that one.”
My heart beats wildly behind my ribs as she reaches out again, stroking her fingers along the chilled tip of my nose. I can’t wait another minute. I reach back and lock the door, fumbling for a minute because of the size of my paws.
