Bunny

Everyone at the hotel is so damn nice. After breakfast with Sully, I head back to my room to relax for a little while and find two dozen pink roses and an American Express Black Card on my table. Underneath is a handwritten note:

Sorry we missed you this morning. Mr. Worth would like you to use this card to do a little shopping for yourself. Please come to the front desk if you would like an escort. Signed – Mrs. Webster.

Mrs. Webster… I wonder if that’s the woman that I saw when I first came in? The first one to call me Miss Bunny? I sort of like that. It sounds like I am the host of a children’s show.

And an American Express black card… Wow. They are not skimping.

Without a moment to waste, I dash for the elevators and down toward the lobby. As I cross the marble, I wave toward Mrs. Webster, somehow communicating that I don’t need an escort, and thank you, and good morning! From the way she smiles, I think she got all that.

Michigan Avenue is everything you think it’s going to be. And more. It’s just around the corner, so I don’t bother getting a taxi or anything. I just walk. The late morning sun is glorious, reflected a million times by all of the windows on all of the high-rises. Here and there are artifacts of old Chicago. The actual water tower from the actual Chicago fire? It’s not a tower. It’s a limestone building the kind of looks like a church. In the middle of all these buildings and pedestrians and everything else, it’s like a park. It just comes out of nowhere, reminding you that the city is actually pretty old.

The shops are amazing. Boutique after boutique, with designer name after designer name. I look through all the windows, urgently aware that there is a Black Card burning a hole to the bottom of my handbag. I really need to whip that puppy out and make it do its job.

“Now, what would make these guys lose their ever-loving minds?” I ask myself in front of a shop with handmade boots. Balenciaga, if I’m not mistaken.

Probably, not boots.

But I don’t have to decide. I walk around for as long as my feet are happy in the shoes, staring in windows, trying the ideas on as much as I am trying the clothes on.

Could this be my life? Shopping without limits? Shopping to find something to please and inspire my billionaire harem?

Holy cow. This could totally be my life!

I flip through the memories, one by one, biting back a smile when I see an older woman raise her eyebrows at me. Can she read my mind? Probably. I hear that I am very easy to read.

Every one of these brothers has been better than the last. Every one has offered me their beautiful—and they’re so beautiful!—cocks to taste. Everyone has looked at me like I might be good to eat. And then Trey actually did eat me and…

I gasp, stopping with my hand out for balance. The memory rushes through me, making my belly twang with longing.

It’s definitely not enough. I would have thought that five guys was too many, and now I am thinking five guys is going to be exactly the right amount. Just being around them makes me so horny I can barely control what I’m thinking. I sucked off Sully so hard this morning, I was afraid I was going to hurt him. But he didn’t seem to mind. That giant bear cock must need a lot of attention.

And how long has it been since they had someone? The way that Royce explains it, they’re not allowed to have anybody unless they can all have that somebody. I get the feeling that Brock and Trey try to find ways around that rule, but not on the regular. They’re all starving. They need somebody to really get them back on track. Sometimes they look at me like a pack of half-wild dogs, ready to eat me alive.

I like that the best.

A dress? Not sure what I need to wear, to be honest. I brought five or six dresses with me, anyway, since they’re so versatile. I mean, you never look wrong in a dress the way you can look wrong in jeans or a tracksuit or scrubs or whatever. Also, you only have to pick out one thing instead of two or three. And, hey, sometimes I don’t even bother with the bra.

Hmmmmmmmmm. This shop appears to be lingerie.

I push open the door and swing inside, breathing deeply the lavender- and vanilla-scented air. I’ve never seen a lingerie shop like this. The most glam I’ve ever seen is Victoria’s Secret, but this is something else. Delicately I finger the stack of silk drawers on the table. They’re decidedly old-fashioned, yet completely alluring. Next to them is a camisole with peekaboo lace over the bust. Tiny pink flowers dot the straps.

“May I help you?” comes a voice.

A giantess strolls over to me, her hands folded in front of her crotch as though to accentuate it. My eyes travel over her outlines from toe to top. She’s a superhero. My mouth goes dry.

“Um? I don’t know?”

She tips her head and stares at me kindly.

“Many things here are French. Everything is handmade. We have several designers who will work with you if you have… Special requests. Do you know what you like?”

I nod dumbly, dazzled by her beauty. Her caramel-colored hair hangs like a fringe over her unlined brow, tickling the tops of her eyelashes. Jeez.

“I know what I like, but… I’m not sure? What he likes?”

She tips her head back and laughs, a musical array that sounds like it was composed for her especially.

“I understand completely! Now, let me get a look at you, darling. Just to size you up. I will find you something irresistible.”

Irresistible, I repeat to myself. Yes. That’s exactly what I need.

In the dressing room, I just stare at myself in awe. Everything fits perfectly. Even the garters, which I never thought I was tall enough to wear. Even the brassiere, which apparently I have been doing wrong my entire life. This thing actually holds my breasts like a couple of sentient hands. It’s magnificent.

I swish my weight from side to side, watching how the black lace glitters subtly. I can imagine swaying like this in front of the brothers, mesmerizing them like a cobra, enchanting them like a witch.

“Miss?” the woman asks me through the heavy velvet drape over the dressing room door.

“Oh, I’ll take it all,” I breathe, tasting how delicious that phrase is in my mouth.

I’ll take it all, I repeat to myself silently. I’ve always wanted to say that!

“Wonderful!” she coos.

But when she rings me up, it still burns a little bit. Six thousand dollars? For underwear? I feel bad. Is it too much? I mean…

“You’re going to be so beautiful, no man will resist you!” she says, holding her hand out as I place the Black Card into it.

But my heart is racing just a little bit. I figure I can return it all, right? I mean, it’s got to have tags on it and a receipt and stuff. I am sure that rich people return stuff all the time!

When I return to the hotel, I hold my head up high with my fancy paper bag in my hand. My heart stops when Spencer raises a hand from the bar, motioning me over.

I feel like I’ve been caught stealing cookies. I feel just terrible and bow my head, trudging over guiltily.

Dropping the bag on a chair, I just sigh and shrug at it.

“I’m sorry,” I explain quickly. “I didn’t really know what my limits were. And I really didn’t know what it was all going to cost…”

“What?” he asks, looking somewhat hurt.

I gesture at the bag. “I could take it all back, I’m sure. It’s not too late. I just bought it!”

I fish in my handbag and pull the Black Card out, holding it out to him.

“No… that’s for you to keep,” he explains. “You don’t have to return the card. Unless you want to, I mean.”

He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to a chair for me to sit in. When I do, I notice the stack of papers in front of me.

“This isn’t about the underwear? I mean… did you get a notice from your bank or something about the charges?”

“Charges…” he repeats vaguely then waves his hand in the air when he figures it out. “No, of course not. I trust you to make your own decisions. Absolutely. I’m sure whatever you bought is… completely correct.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Actually, I can’t wait to show you.”

He clears his throat, looking down. His fingers drum against the pen on the table.

“It’s standard procedure for us to have a contract, I’m sure you understand. We’ve prepared this for you. I prepared this for you. If you’d like to have a lawyer of your own look it over, I completely understand. Or of course I could find someone for you at no charge, of course.”

“Oh! A contract?” I chirp, too excited to contain myself. “Is this it? Gosh, it’s a lot of pages. Did you guys each have to write your own section or something?”

I start to giggle, but then stop when I see his expression.

“Spencer? Is everything all right?”

He clears his throat again. “To summarize, this is a standard employment contract for your services as nanny. We’ll provide you monthly compensation that I hope you think is generous. In addition, you’ll be granted the apartment to share with Sophia. Days off are negotiable, but you will be assumed to be her primary caregiver, of course.”

“Of course,” I agree. Thinking about that chubby little darling makes me smile all over again.

“The Black Card, as I mentioned, is yours to use for expenses related to you or Sophia, at your discretion. We will audit it on a yearly basis, but please don’t feel like that’s intended to be punitive in any way.”

“Punitive?”

He glances up at me apologetically. “Er, it’s not meant to be a punishment. It’s just for accounting.”

“Ah, I understand.”

I reach out to tap his hand in a friendly way, and he withdraws it, almost wincing. I try to catch his eye again, but he won’t look up.

“Much of the rest of this has to do with general instructions on Sophia’s care. Guarantees for your expenses for travel. Outlines of possible international travel… Wait, do you have a passport by any chance?”

“Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“Actually, it doesn’t matter. I can get the passport expedited for you. We don’t have any international travel planned for—”

“Spencer? What’s going on?”

He flips open the stack of papers to the end, where there is a little plastic flag stuck to the page I am supposed to sign.

He’s acting so strange, I really don’t know what to make of it. I’m excited to get the job, but something’s missing. Something is off. Something is…

“Nanny?” I finally ask. “Are there more sections in here for… the rest of it? The rest of us?”

He finally meets my eyes, pressing his lips together into a thin line. He breathes through his nose for several seconds while some silent communication passes between us that I don’t understand.

“Sully asked that I extend to you an offer of employment… for nanny.”

I’m confused, looking around for an explanation.

“Well, are there more papers? I mean, you guys made it sound like Sophia’s mother had to go through a background check with the FBI. Is this it?”

“This is… it.”

My mouth falls open. It suddenly starts to come together.

“Are you telling me nanny and nothing else? No other relationship with you?”

I can read it in his eyes. I can see it now, as plain as day.

“Sully feels this is the safest route. For all of us. We were really impressed… touched… by your instant rapport with Sophia.”

I know it’s crazy, but this hurts my feelings. I realize I’m being offered a dream job, a job anybody else would kill for, and somehow my heart is still aching. Somehow, I feel like I’m losing more than I understand.

“Yeah… no.”

His eyebrows go up again. “Excuse me?”

I push the papers toward him. “I’m not signing that. That’s not the job I’ve been interviewing for. I mean, it is… but no. It’s not enough.”

“Bunny, this is a six-figure salary with innumerable fringe benefits. Are you saying you’re going to turn this down?”

I lean forward, making sure he can’t look away.

“I’m saying that I want the job I interviewed for. I want the whole thing.”

Spencer chews the inside of his cheek. “Okay. I didn’t see that coming. I’ll have to see if I can get everyone together for discussion.”

“With me?”

He looks confused.

“You know what,” I continue, a little bit angrily, a little bit frightened, “I think we definitely need to all get together for discussion. All of us. And I think we need to get all of you in the room at the same time. Don’t you ever do that? Can we please just look each other in the eye at the same time?”

“I can… propose it.”

“In Nantucket,” I add.

He actually gasps, sitting back. “What did you say?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” I huff, picking up steam as I stand and snatch my bag full of fancy underwear off the other chair. “We’re going on a family trip, Spencer. To Nantucket. Make it happen!”