Primal Pursuit

Someone knocks on the door. “I know it’s tempting to hide out for your shift, but table twelve is demanding you and your sweet little titties take them their bill. Their quote,” yells Laura, my shift buddy, “not mine.”

With a sigh, I head on out.

Just past midnight, I walk into my apartment and my phone pings.

Every nerve ending leaps to life.

Miss me, rabbit?

My heart beats a mile a minute as every part of me lights up.

I catch myself smiling as I text back.

Wrong number.

You sure? I remember your number being FUCK YOU.

It still is.

So this is the right number…

Go away.

Soon. But not yet. You’re far too entertaining…for now.

I drop my phone on the couch and strip down before jumping in the shower. I take my time lathering the soap, scrubbing every inch of me clean before shampooing my hair…twice. The objective is to make him wait, and by the time I’m done it’s a half-hour later and there are six new text messages on my phone. I don’t bother reading them when I send him one back.

Harassment gets restraining orders. Possibly jail time.

Meet me—for real. Near where I fucked your cunt and mouth. Near where I won.

Time for round two.

I’m not even thinking clearly when I grab a dress from my closet, slipping it on when my phone pings again.

Closer I get to one, the more severe your punishment if you lose.

Ten

Nine

Fashioning my hair into a pinned-up ponytail, something that looks innocent, elegantly effortless, and will fall down so he can grab it, isn’t as easy as it looks, but I get it right.

Eight

I go to the living room with shoes in my hand to slip on. Heeled, slightly naughty with a tiny peep toe.

Seven

Then I get my coat. The faux fur one. If he wants a rabbit, he can have a rabbit.

Six

I put what I need in my bag. The switchblade, gun, clip. Mace. If I can overpower him, and he gets a hold of the gun, he won’t find the mace hidden within its golden case designed to look like a perfume bottle.

Fuck me, rabbit, you love living on the edge. Get a car.

That was four.