Blue Bunny

by Viva Gold

  “Shit, shit!” Jonah leapt from his chair. My vision was already going blurry and I flailed a bit in my chair until a pair of strong arms came around me and squeezed me hard. After several practiced moves, the steak dislodged itself. It flew out of my mouth and landed in Jonah’s drink with a loud splash. I heaved in huge amounts of air until I finally felt I could breathe again.

  “Oh my God, Elvis, are you ok? I’m so sorry, baby, I thought you were just, you know, being you.” Jonah cupped my chin to look into my eyes.

  “You saved my life,” I croaked. “My hero.” There had been several such rescues in the relatively short amount of time we’d been a couple, due to my being a bit accident prone.

  “Here, drink some water.” A waiter had hurried over with a jug and a glass. Jonah sat back down requesting a fresh bourbon and some ice cream for me. I sipped at my water while peeking at him over the edge of my glass. My eyes were glassy and I felt my cheeks burning, but otherwise I was completely fine. I sniffled in a few hitched breaths. I could literally see Jonah caving before me.

  “Go on, tell me then…what am I going as?”

  A big grin crossed my face. I put down my glass and clapped my hands with glee, all panic forgotten in the wake of my husband conceding to my Easter wishes. I couldn’t wait to tell him.

  “Little Bo Peep.”

  3

  JONAH

  “No fucking way.” I was not doing this. Not this time. “Forget it, mate.”

  “But Joe, I nearly just died.” Elvis’s whine was not going to work. I would not give in. I would not look at his puppy dog eyes and adorable pout or succumb to his wildly dramatic huffing. I had to draw the line somewhere. “And I have sheep!”

  “Sheep!” I choked on my Jack Daniels. “Where the hell did you get sheep from and what are you going to do with them?” His eyes went wide and I realised I was shouting. Guests at the other tables were starting to stare. I growled at them a few times sending them hastily back to their food.

  “What a silly question, Jonah. You’re Little Bo Peep…”

  “No,” I barked at him, fearing his next words.

  “With your sheep hooky thing, you can herd them up and down Main Street.”

  My jaw fell open. Of all the bat shit crazy ideas he’d ever had, this was by far the most outlandish. I leaned forward. Elvis leaned back regarding me with an expression of say what you want but you are so going as Bo Peep on his face.

  “My sheep hooky thing,” I repeated.

  “Yes, you know…” Elvis performed a jerky back and forth movement. His quiff wobbled with the effort he put into it. “A shepherd’s hook for shepherding their flock, obviously.”

  “Obviously. You’ve certainly done your research.”

  Elvis crossed his arms and huffed. I sighed. We’d surpassed the bit where Elvis pretended he was a ditsy bit of fluff and we were now entering the Jonah, don’t be an arse part. He scowled at me. “It’s hardly my fault you don’t inform yourself of your responsibilities. If you had, you would have been able to pick your outfit like all the other staff, but because you neglected to read your emails you missed the opportunity. So now you have to go with what’s left. And that, dear husband, CEO of the world, is Bo fucking Peep.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. So far, this mini-break was not going at all to plan. Instead of taking a reprieve from the stresses of our daily work lives, we seem to have gotten even further embroiled in it. Even so, I really was not happy about this idea of his. I conceded to most things because I couldn’t resist him and wanted him to be happy beyond anything else, but this was not happening.

  “I love you, Elvis, but I am not going to be dressing up as Bo Peep, or herding sheep down Main Street. The Easter party will still be a huge success without subjecting the public to me in a frilly dress, white tights, and a bonnet. Think about it. I’d probably end up scaring the children.”

  Elvis’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. “You know how much I love you in tights.”

  I chuckled. It was true. He’d fantasised about seeing me in green lycra tights as part of a naughty elf Christmas scenario, and I admit to having humoured him. He was so turned on, the sex was amazing, and I loved being able to do that for him, but that was in the privacy of our own cabin in the woods, not in front of the hundreds of customers visiting Kent Outlet Mall on Easter Monday.

  “I bet Stephan would love to oblige,” I offered. Elvis nodded. I hated his disappointment and vowed to make it up to him somehow, but I wasn’t budging on this.

  “And lace,” he muttered coyly, rolling his lower lip between his teeth in a manner he knew roused me.

  “Lace?” That was a new one. Elvis was habitually the one who wore sexy, alluring underwear. I stuck with my cotton lycra boxers. It had never occurred to me that he’d want to see me in anything more provocative. A spark of an idea ignited in my brain.

  Elvis shrugged.

  “Come on, let’s go out on to the deck and get a better look at the view.” It was bitterly cold, but we wrapped up in our coats and the bar gave us blankets. We huddled together, Elvis tucked neatly under my arm and into my side. He fitted perfectly there.

  “I’m sorry, Jonah,” Elvis whispered. “I didn’t mean to be such a brat.”

  I squeezed him. “But you’re my brat, so I’ll forgive you.” Part of me did wonder at how he’d given up the fight so easily, but mostly I was just relieved we’d moved on from me donning a bonnet.

  We jumped on the subway making our way into Manhattan to wander around Times Square. It was at its most tackiest at night with street performers and tourists clogging the sidewalks. However, the lights never failed to impress. Elvis ‘ooed’ and ‘ahhed’ at my side, stopping when his curiosity fixated on something new.

  “Oh. My. God.” He skidded to a halt so abruptly, I banged into him causing us both to stumble. I peered around to see what had him all excited and sighed at the reveal.

  “Right,” I conceded, “I’ll just go and sit over there as I imagine you’ll be a while.” I took my phone from my pocket preparing to answer a few emails while I waited.

  “Jonah!” Elvis’s voice was full of awe. He clutched his chest as he stood there gazing with joy at the open 24 hours, Sephora. I shunted him forward smiling to myself as he grabbed a basket and began filling it with all the cosmeticky things he liked to pretty himself up with. As soon as he started chatting with the sales assistants who seemed to be drawn to him like moths to a flame, I found myself a bench and settled in.

  I tried to read through some stuff that Nico had marked important, but Elvis’s comment about seeing me in lace kept distracting me. Giving up on work, I looked up the site I had purchased my green tights from, to see what other lingerie they stocked.

  “Holy fuck!” My dick twitched. I knew I would be spending some money here, not only for me, but Elvis too. I hastily looked around to see if anyone was watching me. With a sense of relief, passers-by seemed too busy doing their own thing to pay any attention to me, so I clicked on the ‘quick buy’ option for several pairs of underwear in different coloured lace in what I hoped were my size. Glancing at Sephora, I could see she still had my husband well within her clutches giving me a bit more time to scroll through the other pages.

  “Fetish wear…” I mumbled under my breath. I hesitated before clicking on the page, wondering what I would be subjected to.

  “Oh, wow.” The underwear was incredible. A beautiful male model with a stunning arse, not too dissimilar to Elvis’s, was trussed up in all manner of strappy items. They were extremely tantalising, made to enhance the boy’s assets and display his wares provocatively. The items weren’t proper bondage gear, merely extremely sexy underwear. There was one particular harness that caught my attention, but on the small phone screen I couldn’t quite see it properly. It was funny, I mused as I expanded the picture, because the model reminded me so much of…

  “ELVIS!!!”

  The roaring in my ears only served to match the noise
in my brain. People scattered in the wake of my yelling. Elvis’s head whipped around at hearing his name. He hastily paid for his goods, then he was running towards me, worry clear on his face.

  I stood, fuming. I was pacing when he reached me.

  “Jonah?” he queried, sounding confused. “Joe, you’re scaring me, what’s the matter?” He grabbed my arm. I shook it off, glaring at him.

  “THIS!” I thrust the phone in his face. He reared back. With a shaky hand, he took the phone from me to take a proper look. His shoulders slumped. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth and his arse hit the bench.

  “Oh.”

  “OH,” I cried. “That’s all you have to say?” His baby blues pooled with unshed tears as he looked up at me. “It isn’t enough what I pay you? That you have access to my quite considerable wealth? That you don’t want for anything…you go and do this?” I grabbed the phone stabbing at all the pictures displaying Elvis in varying shades of undress. His arse primped in all manner of leather and pvc styles, while his bulge was barely concealed behind jocks and g-strings with chains and studs everywhere. He looked gloriously sexy, but that was so not the point. I stuck my face in his, hissing at him angrily. “Why pimp yourself out like this!”

  His hand shot out and slapped the left side of my face hard. I stood up reeling from the sting.

  “How dare you speak to me like that!” Elvis spat at me. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Me? I know who I am, thank you very much. And I am not the one posing butt naked on the internet.” I was so mad at him.

  “I don’t owe you any fucking explanation, but as you are behaving like an absolute pig, take a closer look, Jonah Kent.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Those pictures, which incidentally are posed, model shots used to advertise legitimate products, were taken when I was at uni.”

  I frowned down at my phone.

  Elvis stood.

  “Not all of us were born with a silver spoon choking us. Some of us had to help pay for our own education. This was a job.” Elvis threw his shopping bag at me too fast for me to catch. His purchases flew out in every direction. “But thanks for pretty much calling me a whore.” He stormed off into the crowds leaving me feeling sick and immediately full of regret. I was such an idiot. All I had seen was my Elvis, my husband, baring what was mine to the world, and in a haze of jealous rage, I’d reacted very badly.

  Very.

  Badly.

  4

  ELVIS

  I ran out of Times Square doused in humiliation. The person I loved and trusted above everyone else in the world, had just shat on me from a great height. We’d been through some tough times in the past year. Even Christmas had been fraught with me thinking Jonah would be better off without me in order to succeed as his family’s heir. He’d easily rejected them over me because they were horribly homophobic and unaccepting of his lifestyle, but now he’d gotten all preachy and judgemental over my website modelling. It didn’t make sense. Jonah wasn’t usually the disapproving type. Far from it. Some of our friends were into some really kinky shit which he’d never baulked at. Christmas in Santa’s Grotto had been an all-out orgy, for fuck’s sake. So, why was he so stuck up over this?

  I fumbled with my phone, desperately needing to speak to my best friend, Fox.

  “Elvis? I thought you were in New York?”

  “I am,” I wobbled.

  “E, what’s wrong?” I heard the urgency in Fox’s tone and realised I’d scared him.

  “I’m ok, honestly. Cooling off after a massive blow-up with my arsehole of a husband.”

  Silence greeted me down the phone. It wasn’t surprising since everyone knew I worshipped the ground Jonah walked on. “Ummm…”

  I gave Fox a brief explanation.

  “Didn’t you ever tell him?”

  I cocked my head at the phone, switching to video call. Fox was at work. He cared for an older gentleman who was recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. The man’s nephew knew Jonah, as it so happened. I could see he was at their indoor pool. Fox looked cute in pale pink speedos.

  “I forgot,” I pouted. “It was so long ago.” I sighed. “I shouted at him in Times Square making this big dramatic exit, now I don’t know what to do. He really hurt me with his insinuations that I’d pimped myself out.”

  Fox put his hands on his hips. “Lemme ask Toby what he makes of the sitch.” I watched as Fox padded around the huge pool to where Toby was relaxing in the water. He was a distinguished looking man, still very attractive. My heart hurt that he was poorly.

  “Hello, Elvis.”

  “Hi, Toby. Sorry to disturb your PT.” I smiled weakly at him.

  “Not a problem, young man. I’m sorry your silly, hot headed husband upset you.” Toby asked me a couple of questions. Then pondered for a few moments. “May I suggest you check yourself into a hotel for the night to give you both some space. I recommend the one where you had dinner, the William Vale. It’s close by Jonah’s apartment. The night apart will provide much needed solitude for you to calm yourself before confronting him tomorrow.”

  “Confronting?” I squeaked.

  “Most definitely, dear boy. The depth of Jonah’s love for you is clearly obvious to anyone that has ever seen the pair of you together. The behaviour he displayed, however, is not acceptable, and you want to know what triggered it. I suspect jealousy or possessiveness. Some kind of caveman knee-jerk reaction, no doubt.”

  Toby went on to suggest how I might approach the discussion we needed to have. He then encouraged me to message Jonah that I would be staying in the William Vale that night and not to come by, but to meet me there in the morning for breakfast.

  Come home, please.

  I stared at Jonah’s reply wanting desperately to concede. In the end, I told him no, because he needed to understand how deeply he’d hurt me. My heart twisted in my chest. Every few months, Jonah and I seemed to hit these curve balls steering our relationship off track. It was becoming exhausting, leaving me fearing for our future.

  I arrived back at the hotel, ready to fall into bed. I expected to be a bit jet-lagged, yet I was overwhelmingly fatigued. Perhaps it was emotional exhaustion. All I knew was I needed to sleep. I went to check-in.

  “Elvis Kent?” the receptionist asked me. I was startled she knew who I was. I nodded. “Mr Kent has checked you in already.” She passed me a key card and directed me to the lift explaining the room was fully stocked with everything I would need for an overnight stay with no luggage. I thanked her feeling equal parts irritated and grateful at my husband’s chivalrous deeds. Ultimately, it was comforting to know that Jonah still insisted on taking care of me.

  The room overlooked the New York skyline, just as the rooftop bar had earlier in the evening. I couldn’t believe that Jonah and I had been appreciating the spectacular view together only a few hours ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. I quickly showered using the hotel products, then I wrapped myself in the robe and raided the mini-bar. I drank all the little bottles of booze then cracked open a bottle of prosecco. I took it out onto the balcony wishing I had a packet of ciggies. The air was bitterly cold, but the alcohol in my bloodstream created a kind of Ready Brek glow about me. As the wind blew I necked the bottle, burping loudly into the night.

  “Classy,” I giggled to myself. I stumbled back into the room flopping onto the bed. Grabbing the remote control, I switched on the massive TV and logged onto the internet. I searched for the underwear site I’d modelled for, and found my pics. I clicked on each one admiring the artistic quality to the photos. The site was high end smirk, smirk, and not tacky at all in my opinion. I’d earned enough money from that job so that Mum and Dad wouldn’t have to support me for the last two years of uni. Up until today, I’d been quite proud of myself.

  A knot of regret lodged in my throat reminiscent of the piece of steak at dinner. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but Jonah had made me feel
cheap.

  “Bastard,” I rasped as I finished the bottle. “Judgy, fucking wanker.” I ripped open a packet of nuts, munching on them angrily. When I’d finished them, I moved onto the Pringles, chocolate and finally the jelly beans. I washed them down with the red and white wine half bottles, until there was nothing left in the mini-bar but sodas. I hiccupped loudly in the empty room before passing out in a haze of sugar and alcohol.

  The very early hours of the morning found me in the bathroom with my head down the toilet throwing up the contents of the mini-bar. I was desperately sick, yearning for Jonah’s soothing hands on my neck and back. I didn’t overindulge very often, hence my low tolerance, but when I did, Jonah always made it better. Tears filled my eyes. I missed him. I knew I was dehydrated, but I couldn’t muster up the energy or motivation to drink water. Instead, I fell asleep on the bathroom floor, the tiles cool beneath my clammy skin.

  “Ooof,” I protested as I woke up. I was surprised to find myself in the bed. I hadn’t remembered moving from the bathroom. I squinted my eyes open. In the dim light, I spotted a bottle of water and a tub of Advil on the side table. I scrambled for both, gratefully. My mouth felt like the inside of a chicken coop; tasted a bit like it too. Or so, I imagined. I peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth, popped two pills on it and then slurped them down with a long glug of water.

  “Drink the whole bottle.”

  I jerked hearing Jonah’s command. Water splashed on my hand. I leaned up on my elbows, tentatively scanning the room. There he sat in an armchair. His legs were crossed. His magnificent hands clutched the edge of the arms. He was dressed immaculately as usual in black slacks, a grey shirt, and black Chelsea boots, looking like a Greek God. However, knowing him as I did, I noticed the shadows under his eyes and the dullness to his complexion.

  “We can’t keep doing this…” I croaked.

  “Get dressed. I’m taking you out for breakfast.” Jonah stood up. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Dress warm, we’re walking.” He pointed to a pile of clothes he obviously brought with him from the apartment, before leaving me in a cloud of his expensive aftershave. I sank back down in the bed closing my eyes for a moment. How was it that Jonah had done wrong by me, yet I felt like the one being admonished? As my headache abated, I thought back to what Toby had told me and with as much determination as I could muster in my severely hung-over state, I began to get ready for the day.