Claiming His Easter Bunny: A Bad Boy Novella

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Claiming His Easter Bunny: A Bad Boy Novella Page 7

by Lulu Pratt


  It spurred me on, and I drove into her harshly, pounding her flesh until I felt myself stiffen. My release was long and overwhelming, the built-up tension pouring hot and creamy from my length.

  As Ingrid’s legs unraveled around me, my mind began to clear, struggling to make sense of everything. I couldn’t believe how quickly things had escalated, or how good it felt to throw caution to the wind. I’d always been so by the book, with more rules for myself than I could keep track of.

  Ingrid was the epitome of freedom to me. She was nothing I needed, but everything I wanted. Time with her was never rushed or predetermined. Everything was possible when she was around. Never would I have thought I would be sliding from the sofa of her townhouse, still fully dressed, though completely drained.

  It was erotic how desperate we were, leaving no time to undress. The electricity between us threatened to blow us apart, and it seemed both of us had felt it. Ingrid was still panting, her dress a bit out of place from my careless treatment.

  “I’m sorry about your dress,” I broke the silence.

  “Trust me, I couldn’t care less about this dress,” she smiled bashfully. It was a new smile I’d never seen her use. She didn’t strike me as the type of woman who embarrassed easily, especially after such an intimate experience, but here she was, blushing.

  “Well, I still owe you a replacement,” I reasoned, straightening her neckline as best I could.

  “I thought you didn’t want to take this further,” she reiterated the warning I’d bypassed in her foyer.

  She was right. I didn’t want anything further, but as a man, I had needs and she fulfilled every one of them. I didn’t feel there was more I could offer her, because my time was spoken for and it seemed women wanted nothing more than time.

  “I couldn’t contain myself. You do something to me… Something I can’t explain, but it sets me over the edge,” I admitted.

  Ingrid watched as I reached onto the coffee table in front of us. A large glass bowl held individual size bags of candy, each with a different Easter theme. I took a bag of jelly beans shaped as Easter eggs, tearing the bag open with my teeth.

  “And do you enjoy losing control?” Ingrid asked.

  It was a question I hadn’t considered. She made me feel free, and I knew I liked that. But knowing someone else could control me in any way was going to take some getting used to. I had been on my own, emotionally, for a long time. I wasn’t ready to fully give myself to anyone.

  “It has its perks,” I said instead.

  Ingrid smiled again, this time the more generous smile I was used to. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her eyes glowing in the darkness. Her living room was sparsely lit, leaving a romantic glow. As I took in the details, I realized for the first time how nicely decorated it was.

  For a single woman, she had a very welcoming home, much more inviting than the coldness of my bachelor pad. I was rarely home for more than sleeping and eating, so the idea of spending a fortune decorating it felt like a waste. But now that I saw how relaxing Ingrid’s home was, I began to have differing thoughts.

  “Just how long do you think we can keep this up, Dr. Hill?” She spoke my title more seductively than anyone.

  I watched as she crawled onto her knees, making her way to me without rush. Slowly, she moved one leg over me until her body was straddling mine.

  “I don’t know, Ms. Stone,” I began, slowly lowering the straps of her dress. “What do you think?”

  Before she could answer, my tongue was circling her nipple. The soft skin hardened against my tongue until her arousal felt like an icicle in my mouth. Her pelvis rocked to me as her body craved more of me. She was insatiable, and I loved it.

  “Since you’re in the Easter spirit, I think I’ll have my own Easter egg hunt.” I licked my lips, watching her eyes darken with lust.

  Taking one jelly bean from the pack, I showed her the candy before moving my hand to her sex, pushing the edible treasure inside her. She moaned at the pressure of my hand and I hardened instantly.

  I’d never been the type to go rounds in the bedroom, but nothing about my body was predictable when Ingrid was concerned. Again, I repeated the task, slipping more candy into her wetness before moving her body back to the sofa. She was light as a feather, always following my lead.

  “I guess I’ve got to go find my treasure now,” I explained, pushing her thighs apart with the palms of my hand.

  Ingrid’s eyes clenched close as my tongue circled her swollen bud. She was slick with her climax, but I didn’t care. I needed to taste her and she was even sweeter than I’d imagined.

  My mouth covered her sex, as my tongue slid into her opening, the sweet flavors of the candy instantly finding my tongue. Ingrid’s hand found the back of my head, urging me on with greed. She held nothing back with her loud calls for more. My erection grew to hurt with a need to feel her, but I forced myself to first find each jelly bean I’d hidden inside her.

  With each discovery, I stiffened further, counting down the moments until I could cover myself in her tight warmth again. When I finally retrieved the last jelly bean, I positioned myself between her legs, sliding into her with the control I’d lost only moments before.

  Reclaiming the position of power, I sent Ingrid into another whirlwind of an orgasm, watching her face contort to express the pleasure her body was experiencing. It was addicting, and I knew then that I would never be able to get enough of her.

  Chapter 17

  INGRID

  “INGRID, WOULD you like to be added to the decorations committee? I know you mentioned how special holidays are, so I thought you might want to take the lead on this one,” Martha said to us, the team of hospital volunteers standing before her.

  We were having a meeting before the nightly rounds. Usually, it was my favorite time of the day, but my thoughts had been scattered all morning and afternoon. It was the first time I’d been in the hospital since my night that carried over to the morning with Tristan.

  The most pleasurable night of my life had left me wanting more, and the possibility of seeing him tonight had made it nearly impossible to focus.

  “Oh, yes, Martha,” I nodded quickly, although I had no idea what I’d just agreed to.

  “Sounds good. So, let’s begin with the nightly rounds. I will cover the left ward, and the rest of you can start on the right,” Martha instructed. She was the longest-serving volunteer. I had heard she had been volunteering at the hospital for decades. No one knew more about the children and hospital staff than her.

  “Hey, Martha,” I made my way across the room as she gathered a few toys to take with her on the visits to children.

  “Hi, Ingrid! How are you?” She hugged me as she always did when she saw me. Martha was the sweetest woman you could ever imagine.

  “I wanted to ask about the doctors. Should we worry about intruding on them during their check-ups? I know some of them are more welcoming to the volunteers than others,” I heard myself say, feeling like a teenager as I sought out gossip.

  “Oh, don’t you worry,” Martha tapped my shoulder. “Every doctor in this hospital is grateful for the service we provide. We give the children hope, and that’s better than any prescription they can ever write.”

  I smiled and nodded, accepting she wasn’t going to be the one to weasel information out of. It was desperate and beneath me, but I hadn’t seen Tristan my entire shift and now it was almost over. The sign at the reception desk with doctors on call clearly had his name listed, but he was nowhere to be found.

  “Thanks,” I managed before turning to leave.

  “But if you happen to bump into Dr. Hill, don’t let him ruffle your feathers,” she called after me. I turned to face her, hoping I wasn’t displaying my need for more information. “He’s mean to everyone, sweetie. Don’t take it personally.”

  I smiled and went about my way, with a blossoming bud of confidence rising in my chest. Dr. Hill might have been mean to everyone else, but not with me
. In fact, to me he was Tristan, a name he would never allow even some of his peers to use. As I made my way to the first patient’s room, I silently wondered if I should be more formal at the hospital. Surely, outside of his workplace, things were less strict, but knowing how much he cared about his reputation, I thought it best to be discreet.

  It was the thought of Tristan that sent me into Charlie’s room with a huge smile. He had recently been treated for a severe asthma attack, something he knew we could relate about. I’d spent a previous evening telling him about my childhood asthma, and how I swam competitively in high school and college.

  When you’re that young, it feels like your current circumstances are permanent, as though you’ll never grow out of the sickness. With some children that is even the case, but childhood asthma was often treatable, and that was what I spent an hour explaining to Charlie while we colored with markers.

  By the time I left, he was smiling as big as me. Both of his parents pulled me aside to thank me, and I assured them it was the least I could do. They updated me on his progress and I promised to stop by after his next treatment, which they anticipated would be the last.

  Because Children’s Hospital Los Angeles was such a large facility, it garnered a massive number of volunteers. With all the patients housed in the different wards, I was only assigned two. Martha explained, this helped us create a bond with the children so that they were not constantly meeting new faces without making a connection.

  My other assigned patient was Harriet. She’d only been in the hospital for a few days, after suffering a broken wrist and leg at the park. Her parents were more worried than her, but tests had shown that it wasn’t as bad as it looked and she would be released tomorrow.

  “Well, aren’t you looking festive,” I smiled as I entered her room. Harriet was dressed in a rainbow-colored tutu with a matching leotard. Her leg was extended in her cast, and her wrist clung to her chest in a sling.

  “I want you to color my cast!” she belted out, her voice much bigger than her small eight-year-old frame.

  “Color your cast?” I giggled, looking to her parents for an explanation.

  “Charlie said you color very good. I want you to color with me!” She smiled.

  “The doctors say everything is okay with her, and so Harriet is returning to school next week. She’s a bit concerned that her cast will mess up her fashionable reputation,” the mother raised her eyebrows sarcastically. “So I told her she can make it a fashion statement.”

  “Now, that sounds like a good idea!” I nodded, reaching in my bag for the paints and markers I carried to each visit. Arts and crafts was the best way to connect with children, so I made sure to come prepared.

  For the next hour, I worked with Harriet and her mother to carefully design the most creative and colorful cast art I’d ever seen. By the time we finished, I think we were all equally pleased with our accomplishment. Harriet thanked me with a great big hug and so did her mother.

  As I left her room, I felt accomplished and grateful for the opportunity to give back. My shift was over, and I said goodbye to my fellow volunteers along the way to the locker room. I’d earned a locker after my bunny rabbit costume gig. So now I got to store my stuff away while I helped out.

  I’d temporarily forgotten all about Tristan and the strong desire to see him again. That was how powerful the work I did was to me. The children could silence everything, showing just how insignificant my life really was.

  But when I opened the door to the locker room, everything came rushing back. Standing topless across the room, Tristan was dressing for his shift. I didn’t hesitate, marching to him as though he were mine, planting a big wet kiss on his lips without shame.

  Gone was the promise I’d made myself to be professional and discreet. Although no one else was there now and I knew the door could fly open at any time, I simply didn’t care. Tristan returned my passion, backing me up, first into the locker and then all the way to the door.

  “I missed you,” I said when he pulled away from the kiss to lock the door.

  “Oh yeah?” he growled, leaning down to kiss me one more. “Show me how much.”

  Quickly, I stripped down, and Tristan lifted me into the air. My legs wrapped around his torso as he fumbled with his scrubs. Within seconds, he was thrusting inside me as I fought to stifle the cries.

  On the other side of the door, doctors and nurses scattered from one room to the next, busy with work. But in the locker room, there was nothing but pure lust. Tristan had missed me as much as I missed him. I could feel it in the way his body reacted to me, hungry for my body.

  His growls grew louder with each thrust, our bodies melting together in unison as we raced to a climax I’d been yearning all week.

  My nails dug into him as I reached my release, quietly calling his name in gratitude. He had a way with my body, getting me to new depths of pleasure I didn’t know existed. This time, he came with me as he clenched my body for strength.

  My breathing was heavy as my feet found their way back to the floor. It had all happened so fast, but now the air between us was thick. Almost instantly, I felt alone, despite the physical closeness between us. Tristan was gone, the connection severed and I couldn’t understand why.

  Slowly, I watched him back away, avoiding eye contact, but the message was clear before he opened his mouth to speak a word.

  Chapter 18

  TRISTAN

  THE SECOND I slipped from inside her, my senses retook control. It was like I was under her spell, and there were no ends to her strength. I’d been thinking of Ingrid for longer than I cared to admit. I’d purposely checked to see that she would be in before starting my shift, with the hope that I would run into her.

  It had taken every bit of restraint I had to stop myself from calling her to set up another date. I hated to admit that was what it was, but at this point, there was no reason to continue denying it. We’d had a passionate night together, and I wished it could have ended there. Only I didn’t want it to, I just felt I needed it to. There weren’t any good ways for this to end.

  The worst of possible outcomes would be damaging to my reputation. And standing here in the middle of the locker room, catching my breath after rough and needy sex, was unbelievable. How could I have lost control so instantly?

  I was fine while I dressed for my shift, but the moment I saw her, all reasoning went out the window. I wanted her more than anything, and nothing was going to stop me from having her – not even the threat of losing everything I’d worked so hard for.

  I could feel her watching me, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Slowly, I made my way to the door, checking to see she was dressed before I unlocked it.

  “We can’t do this anymore,” I announced, finally looking into her eyes. Her cheeks were still reddened from the adrenaline, her hair disheveled from my wandering hands.

  “Do what?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Ingrid, this is my career. I’ve worked very hard for my reputation. I can’t risk everything for…” I struggled to find the words or admit what was brewing between us. “Whatever this is,” I rushed, unwilling to come to grips with how much I felt for the woman who was just a stranger a few days ago.

  “What does that even mean?” She swallowed slowly, her gaze set on my eyes. Her blue pools were more watery than usual, the emotion obviously building.

  “Ingrid, whatever this is… It’s over.” I forced the words before turning to leave the locker room, closing Ingrid inside with our shared past I refused to continue.

  I had to choose between my career and my personal life, and that was always an easy decision for me. Ingrid was a fun time, sure. But I wanted more than that for myself. In fact, I was willing to completely sacrifice the fun times in order to have the success I’d achieved through hard work and dedication.

  Pushing our interaction to the back of my mind, I tried to focus on my shift, but it was impossible. There was no way for me to remove
the image of her teary eyes from my memory. Every time I replayed the scenario, my stomach dropped with shame. I couldn’t believe I’d spoken so harshly to her, leaving her alone without even asking how she felt.

  But I kept making it make sense. I had to make a decision, and as rough as it was, I knew that Ingrid was only a distraction to my work, and I couldn’t afford that.

  “You’ve been more upbeat recently, what’s going on?” Robert’s voice snapped me from my thoughts.

  “What do you mean?” I scowled, not ready for another of his lectures.

  “I’ve noticed a change in your attitude. You’re lighthearted and approachable. I think I even heard you laugh earlier. Something’s different, and I imagine it has to do with that volunteer I introduced you to last weekend.” He smiled before adding, “How are things between you two?”

  “They’re done. I ended it today,” I said, questioning myself silently. How could I end something that never was?

  “What do you mean? Tristan, why?” Robert turned to me, worry wrinkling his forehead.

  “Why are you so concerned? It’s not that big of a deal,” I shook my head, annoyed by his dramatics.

  “But it is. Don’t you see how the entire staff has responded so positively to your shift? You’re relatable, the team can communicate with you better. When you have a life outside of the hospital, it takes some of the pressure off this job.” He paused as I searched his face for understanding. It was clear he meant what he was saying, but was there any truth to it?

  “Tristan, we can’t be everything to you – your support, your joy, your audience, your therapist. You have to supplement your career with balance at home.”

  “Robert, maybe I don’t want the balanced life,” I argued, but he only smiled.

  “I know you see me and think, this guy doesn’t know what he’s doing. Hell, I’ve worked at more hospitals in the past five years than you have in your whole career,” he chuckled. “But that’s by choice, Tristan. I chose to prioritize my family life, because in the end, that’s what matters. I have a wall of awards just like you. It was all I cared about for the first years of my career – how many records I could break, how many conferences I could headline. But that stuff doesn’t matter, not really.”

 

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