The Bunny Is Coming (The Holidays #4)
The Bunny is Coming
(The Holidays #4)
By Tara Sivec
Other Books in the Holidays Series
The Stocking Was Hung (The Holidays #1)
Cupid Has a Heart-On (The Holidays #2)
The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)
Check out all of Tara’s Books:
tarasivec.com
The Bunny is Coming
Copyright © 2017 Tara Sivec
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
License Notice
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you wish to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer
This is a work of adult fiction. The author does not endorse or condone any of the behavior enclosed within. The subject matter may not be appropriate for minors. All trademarks and copyrighted items mentioned are the property of their respective owners.
Cover Design by Tara Sivec
Edits by Holly Malgieri from Holly’s Red Hot Reviews
www.hollysredhotreviews.com
Interior Design by Paul Salvette, BB eBooks
bbebooksthailand.com
Easter Egg Icon made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com is licensed by CC 3.0 BY
Table of Contents
Title Page
Other Books in the Holidays Series
Copyright Page
1. Nomar Viscount
2. Drag Bunnies
3. Plastic Wrap in Your Anus
4. Killer Bunnies
5. Penis Eggs
6. Goo
7. You All Need Jesus
8. Elbow Butt
9. Angry Bowels
10. Butt Stuff
11. Sperm Donor
12. The Bunny is Coming
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Nomar Viscount
Noel
“Jesus, I missed you,” Sam whispers against my lips as his body slowly rocks against mine, his cock sliding in and out of me at just the right speed and just the right pressure to make my toes curl.
“I missed you more,” I tell him, tightening my thighs around his waist and thrusting my hips up to bring him deeper as he presses his mouth to mine, our tongues tangling together.
It’s been a few weeks since Sam and I had some alone time together where we both weren’t completely exhausted from work, and it’s the longest we’ve gone without sex since we got married last year. He’s been working a ton of overtime, and my boss at Seduction and Snacks, where I design inappropriate greeting cards, told me a few weeks ago they might have something exciting to share with me, but couldn’t tell me what it was. The only hint they offered was to think bigger than greeting cards and come up with as many fun sayings and one-liners as I possibly could. I love my job, especially since I can do it from the comfort of my own couch in my pajamas, but not knowing exactly what they wanted from me caused a lot of stress and a lot of long hours, giving Sam and me no energy to do much more than shovel a quick dinner in our mouths at the end of the day and pass out in bed. On top of that, I’ve been feeling like absolute shit lately, battling off and on with a stupid spring cold and unable to keep my eyes open much past nine o’clock at night.
It’s been horrible. Going so long without sex made us grumpy and mean. As Sam starts moving faster and slamming into me harder, I dig my nails into his back as my orgasm washes over me, pulling my mouth away from his to shout his name and thank God we’re finally out of our slump.
There’s nothing like a good orgasm to make everything better.
“FUCK! Oh, fuck, I love you so much,” Sam yells through his release, his arms tightening around me as his hips jerk between my thighs until his body collapses on top of mine.
With my eyes closed, I smile contentedly as Sam buries his face in the side of my neck, allowing me to slide my hands up the skin of his back to run my fingers through his hair. Sex with Sam before we were married was out of this world, but nothing compares to married sex. I don’t know what it is, but just knowing that we pledged out lives to each other makes everything sweeter, more intense, and more satisfying, and nothing could ruin this moment of complete bliss.
“I love you so much, too! What’s for dinner?”
Sam’s head jerks up from my neck when we hear a shout from the other side of our bedroom door, and he scowls as he looks down at me.
“AUNT BOBBIE, GO AWAY!” I yell towards the door.
“I thought she wasn’t going to be home until later?” he whispers in annoyance, pulling out of me and scrambling to the side of the bed, bending over to pick up his discarded clothes.
Aunt Bobbie recently had some money problems. Or should I say, shoe problems. She went batshit crazy during a Louboutin sale, deciding to buy shoes instead of paying her bills. She was kicked out of her apartment and, since she fucked up her credit, no one will rent her a new one. She’s been bouncing back and forth between mine and Sam’s house and living with my parents, the four of us trading off when thoughts of murdering her in her sleep start to overshadow our love for her.
“You don’t have to be so mean!” Aunt Bobbie shouts through the door. “It’s not my fault these walls are paper thin. Tell Sam his pillow talk is getting much hotter.”
“Oh, my God,” Sam groans, standing up from the bed to pull up his boxer briefs and jeans. “I can’t take this anymore. She needs to go back to your parent’s house.”
I sigh, wrapping the sheet around me as I push myself up in bed to lean my back against the headboard.
“She’s only been here for a week. I promised my mom we’d keep her until just after Easter. You know how stressed she gets preparing for a holiday,” I remind him.
“Noel, I love you, but I don’t know if I can handle another four days with that woman living here. Did you see what she did to my man cave? I grew a vagina as soon as I walked in there. Poker Night was ruined,” he argues, yanking his shirt from the end of the bed and pulling it on.
“Speaking of Poker Night, tell Alex I deleted those photos of him in a dress from my phone, like he asked,” Aunt Bobbie states through the door.
Every time Aunt Bobbie has stayed with us, she’s been told that Sam’s man cave is off limits. The finished basement is his pride and joy, with a beautiful bar and sports memorabilia that he’s collected his entire life covering the walls. We made the mistake of leaving Aunt Bobbie alone when she first got here last week, to run out and grab food and drinks for Sam’s monthly Poker Night, and when we got home…well, let’s just say it’s one of the first times I’ve ever seen my husband shed a tear.
“She took all of my framed photos of the Ohio State football team off the wall and replaced them with still shots of Cats on Broadway, Noel. CATS. The most horrifying Broadway play known to man. She shoved my Cleveland Cavs floor lamp into a closet and put up a disco ball. SHE PUT A SPARKLY DRESS ON MY LIFE SIZED OMAR VIZQUEL CARDBOARD CUTOUT!” Sam shouts.
“Your basketball player cutout survived just fine being in drag for a few hours,” I remind him.
“Omar Vizquel is not a basketball player! He was
one of the best shortstops in Cleveland Indians history, AND SHE PUT HIM IN A PINK SPARKLY DRESS!” Sam argues.
“Nomar Viscount looked hot in that dress, Sam Stocking!” Aunt Bobbie yells from the hallway.
“HIS NAME IS OMAR VIZQUEL! STOP LISTENING THROUGH THE DOOR!” Sam screams, stomping over, grabbing the handle and flinging it open.
Aunt Bobbie comes stumbling into the room, quickly righting her feet before she falls and smooths her hands down the front of her dress as she gives us a smile.
“Seriously, you should do something about how thin those doors are. I can hear everything when I have my ear pressed against it. So, what are we doing for dinner?”
Chapter 2
Drag Bunnies
Sam
“Sweet mother of God, what has he done?” Noel mutters as we stand in her parent’s driveway and stare at the front yard.
“It’s…different. I mean, it’s kind of Eastery,” I tell her with a shrug.
Noel’s father is the king of all things holidays and goes to an almost unhealthy level of decorating their front yard for everything. There is no rhyme or reason to his holiday displays, he pretty much just goes with the theory that more is better, and his Easter decorations this year are right on point with that.
“The only thing Eastery about this mess are the thousands of plastic Easter eggs hung from every tree and bush. I don’t even know what those are,” Noel winces, pointing to the thing tied to a wooden stake a few feet away from us.
“It’s about damn time you two got here. I need some help putting a few more bunnies up,” Reggie, Noel’s father, states as he walks out of the garage with two pastel blow-up rabbits under his arms.
“Bunnies? Those things are supposed to be bunnies?” Noel asks, still staring in confusion at the yard display.
“Of course they’re bunnies. It’s Easter. What the hell else would they be?” Reggie declares, shoving the two blow-up rabbits into my arms.
“Um, I don’t know, dad, considering they’re all wearing dresses, wigs, false eyelashes and…” Noel pauses, walking closer to the bunny right in front of us, swiping a finger over its mouth. “Lipstick? You put lipstick on the blow-up Easter bunnies?”
The bunnies, all different colors of pastel, from pink, purple, teal, and yellow, stand in the yard, strapped to wooden stakes so they won’t blow away, each one looking more horrifying than the next. The one right in front of us that Noel just swiped lipstick off of is wearing a long blonde wig, its huge bunny ears sticking straight up through the hair.
Reggie sighs, crossing his arms in front of him.
“Your mother has been complaining lately that I’m not sensitive enough about Aunt Bobbie, whatever the hell that means. I may not understand why a grown man would want to dress up like a woman, but I’m sensitive, dammit. Do you have any idea how hard it is to glue those fake eyelash things on bunnies?” he asks.
“There’s got to be at least a hundred bunnies in this yard,” I muse.
“A hundred and twenty-seven, thank you very much. And where were you when I was blowing all of them up? Nowhere to be seen, that’s where. You marry my daughter and then think you’re too good to blow things,” Reggie accuses.
Noel giggles, and I shoot her an annoyed look.
“Don’t even think about making a joke.”
Reggie moves over to the bunny next to her, pulling a tube of lipstick out of his pocket as he squats down and fixes the smear around its little bunny mouth, going way outside of the lines, making it look like an evil bunny that will murder us all in our sleep.
“Where did you even get so many tiny ball gowns?” Noel asks him.
“Your mother has a friend at church whose granddaughter is in those weird, toddler beauty pageants where they dress little girls up to look like grown women. She made me go to one of them and they were having a big sale on the dresses in the hotel lobby. I got an entire rack for a steal, and now my Easter decorations are perfect.”
Reggie stands back up, recapping the lipstick and shoving it back in his pocket to admire his work.
“This is weird,” Noel whispers, shaking her head.
“There is nothing weird about bunnies in drag, Noel! Show some sensitivity,” Reggie scolds.
The sound of a dog barking makes all of us turn around to find a woman standing on the sidewalk, struggling to hold onto the leash attached to her dog as it barks and lunges at one of the bunnies.
“Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it, Mrs. Gold?” Reggie shouts, lifting his hand to give her a wave.
The woman gives him an awkward wave back, her eyes never leaving the bunny display as she finally manages to control her dog and quickly walk away.
“She’s judging my drag bunnies,” Reggie grumbles as he watches Mrs. Gold hightail it down the sidewalk as fast as she can.
“Well, on that note, I think I should probably head inside and help mom fill the Easter eggs,” Noel states, giving her dad a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the front porch.
“I’ll come with you. I’m sure you ladies could use an extra hand filling all those eggs with candy for the church Easter egg hunt, right?” I ask, starting to follow after her.
Reggie grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop.
“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere. You didn’t blow anything, but you’re damn well going to put yourself to good use. I have a few more wigs I need to brush out before they go on the bunnies. There’s a box in the garage. Go get it and put the red one on first,” Reggie tells me, grabbing the blow-up bunnies from my arms and moving over to the middle of the yard to attach them to the awaiting stakes.
I always tell myself that things couldn’t get any worse with Noel’s family, then I find myself sitting in the front yard wearing a wig while my father-in-law brushes my hair.
* * *
“Mom, we need to talk,” I hear Noel shout when I get inside the house after quickly sneaking away from Reggie before he put another wig on me.
I make my way down the hall to find Noel standing in the doorway of the kitchen, both of us staring at her mother who is currently lying on her stomach, halfway under the kitchen table.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I have no idea. Mom was up in the attic for the last twenty minutes getting the totes of plastic eggs down and she just came racing past me, yelling something about bacon.
“Yes, we need to talk about bacon!” Bev shouts from under the table.
“Um, okay, but first, we need to talk about Aunt Bobbie. I don’t think we can keep her until after Easter like I promised. Sam and I have been under a lot of stress lately with—”.
“Why is bacon so difficult!” Bev interrupts with a shout as the lower half of her body squirms around on the kitchen floor and one of her shoes falls off.
I don’t even want to know why my mother-in-law is under the kitchen table looking for bacon. Sadly, this isn’t the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in this house.
Moving closer to Noel, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer to my side, giving a squeeze of encouragement to tell her mom that we can’t have Aunt Bobbie living in our house anymore. I really don’t want to go to prison for killing the woman.
“Anyway, as I was saying, Sam and I need some alone time and Aunt Bobbie—”
“GOT HIM!” Bev shouts, interrupting Noel again as she slides out from under the table, stands up and turns to face us.
“Mom, why do you have a pig in your arms?” Noel asks, pulling out of my arms to step further into the room as Bev struggles to hold onto the tiny little piglet currently squirming in her arms.
The front door slams closed and a few seconds later, Reggie walks into the kitchen and stands next to me.
“Mark down at the VFW told me about this farm that sells pigs for you to butcher yourself for Easter. I got a great deal on it,” Reggie states.
“What? You’re going to kill that thing and eat it for Easter?” Noel asks in revulsion, staring at the lit
tle pig who has suddenly started to squeal at the top of his lungs.
Bev quickly sets him down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table and covers his little pig ears.
“Reggie, I told you to stop saying things like that in front of him! He’s very delicate right now. And we’re not having him for Easter dinner. I already named him, didn’t I, my little shmoopy-woopy?” Bev says, leaning down to coo and fuss over the pig.
“Mmmmm, bacon,” Reggie muses with a smile, licking his lips as he stares at the still-squealing animal in the chair.
“Dad, you can’t have a pig for a pet and then eat it,” Noel tells her dad, walking over to stand next to Bev and squatting down in front of the chair to give the thing a reassuring pat on the head.
“Did you not hear me say the word bacon?” he asks in annoyance.
Rolling my eyes at him, I look back down at the adorable little thing as he snorts and sniffs Noel’s hand. Bacon is delicious, but there is no way in hell I’m eating any kind of pork product in this house after seeing it alive, squealing, and staring at me with his beady little eyes.
“Mom already named him; therefor he’s a pet now. We are NOT eating him for Easter.”
“Yes, and she named him Bacon. We’re preparing him for a life of deliciousness,” Reggie replies.
“That’s disgusting,” Noel replies, quickly standing up and placing one hand over her mouth and pressing the other against her stomach.
She’s starting to look a little pale, like she might throw up any minute. Noel hasn’t been feeling well the last few weeks, and clearly all this talk about butchering the family pet has made things worse.
“Bacon is never disgusting. I’m starting to wonder if you were switched at birth,” Reggie mumbles, shaking his head at her as Bev goes to the fridge, grabs a Tupperware container and removes the lid as she walks back over to Bacon.
We all watch silently as she starts pulling little pieces of something out of the container, feeding it to the pig.