Sunderance Chapter 12: Prima Sonata (Patreon)

(Special thanks to our friends Diana and Wodahset for their help with the chapter. :D )

 

   “You were tempted?” she asked weakly, her ears dropping back when he raised one dark eyebrow at the question.

   “I suppose you would have doubts about that,” he murmured, his tongue lightly clicking against the top of his mouth as he considered her for a long moment. “I turned towards the windows for a reason. As lightly dressed as I was, the answer to that would have been obvious if we’d been facing each other. Is that why you were walking around in your panties last night? To see if you could get another rise out of me?”

   “I was curious,” she admitted, refusing to allow herself to hide behind the water glass at his admission. She felt very out of her element, which came as no surprise. She was talking to a fox about the attraction between them as if it were something a bunny had talked about at any point in history. “Well?”

   “Well what?” he asked, making it very clear with the innocent expression on his face that he knew exactly what she was asking.

   “Did walking around in my underwear get another ‘rise’ out of you?” she asked, rolling her eyes slightly as an unavoidable grin grew on her muzzle. As awkward as the subject should have been, and was, she almost felt like they were having a normal conversation. His expressions were more animated, his ears shifting position more freely, his eyes open in ways she had only glimpsed before. Hints of what she had seen in rare moments were now slowly unfolding in front of her.

   “Do you want me to bite you again?” he countered, heat racing through her in more ways than one as a grin slowly spread across his muzzle. That view of teeth had her focusing on them for a long moment, a sight that had her resisting the urge to lick suddenly dry lips.

   “Do you want me to keep walking around in my underwear?” she countered herself, refusing to let him get the better of her. At least here, in the restaurant, she could keep up with the banter. What made her nervous, and what had her belly twitching slightly when the realization dawned that they were openly flirting with each other, was wondering what would happen when they were alone in the office again.

   “If I answer yes, which would be the truth,” he began, making her mouth drop open just a bit at the blithe ease with which he answered, “then we are presented with an interesting problem.”

   “Is this where you tell me that a relationship between a bodyguard and his client must remain professional?” she questioned, one paw reaching out to catch a drop of sweat rolling down the side of her water glass. Just to give her paws something else to do.

   “That would be an appropriate cliché,” he snorted lightly, leaning forward again with a flick of one ear as he lowered his voice. “Though not entirely accurate. I am not a bodyguard by trade, for one. And secondly, in about ninety-nine percent of fiction where that scenario plays out, they resist with all their might, only to surrender to their passion for each other in the end.”

   “This isn’t fiction,” she muttered, her ears positively burning at the way he had worded that. Mostly because it was entirely too accurate. “But since you put it that way, what is the problem in your mind?”

   “Foxes and bunnies don’t exactly get along,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact in the statement. “The current state of the city is unmistakable evidence of that.”

   “So, you’re going to trade one cliché for another?” she asked, one brow raising when his grin returned so quickly, so handsomely, that her heart knocked painfully. “The star-crossed lovers from different worlds, struggling to be together against all odds?”

   “Lovers, hm?” he murmured, the low tone of his voice causing her nose to twitch rapidly for a moment as excitement boarding on panic almost had her backtracking. “We could run through a list of very obvious reasons that we should stop pressing the issue.”

   “We could,” she said and, because she suddenly felt very small having to look over the edge of the table to really meet his eyes, adjusted her legs so she could stand on her knees in the booth. Then she surprised herself when she added. “But I would rather not. We both know there is something here. But it’s not like I could find anyone else to protect me. And I don’t like to run away.”

   “Yes, you’ve proven that multiple times,” he said lightly, his gaze shifting from her for a moment to pick up the shot glass and raise it to his muzzle. “What are you suggesting, Miss Hopps?”

   “We could go back to the office and bang out a quick one,” she said, her tone full of humor and nervous energy at the same time.

   Catching him completely off guard was a breath of fresh air for her, one that she savored when he almost bobbled the shot glass. The sudden burst of laughter that had him throwing his head back had her staring at him with something akin to awe for a long moment before a heated blush bloomed all over her body. The sound was incredible, somehow. The sound of laughter for most was a normal, everyday thing. Until now, she had wondered if he was capable of it but now that it rolled around her, she found herself feeling foolishly aroused by it. By him in general. All of him. Maybe it was normal, something that she had wondered about from the moment he had pinned her to the counter and nipped her ear. The feeling of danger about him, the fact that he had fought for her, defended her and watched over her from the moment she’d set foot in the city. Then there was the orange fur, the long narrow muzzle, his teeth, paws large enough to swallow her waist, creamy fur that trailed down his chest and belly and beyond. There was something beautiful about him, and the fact that he was a fox did absolutely nothing to change the way she knew he was affecting her.

   It wasn’t until the laughter died to a soft chuckle that his eyes returned to her, filled with humor and something else. Something that might have been the result of his flared nostrils as he took in the scent of her. Realizing where her thoughts had led her, and his attention to the resulting change in her scent had her dropping down on her rear again and reaching for the glass of water. She drank deep, trying in vain to let the cold liquid drown the warmth centered in her belly as she avoided his gaze.

   “Funny joke. But not avoiding this doesn’t mean we should run headlong into it, either,” he said after a few moments, the now almost soothing tone in his voice catching and returning her eyes to him. “It is dangerous. Exploring it further might not be wise. But your being in this city isn’t wise, either. Wisdom is helpful, but it’s not the answer to everything.”

   “So, we should just,” she began, waving her paw slightly as she tried to gather the right words to express it without adding to a conversation that already had her hot and embarrassed all at once, “see where it goes without the typical avoidance maneuvers?”

   “That’s one way to put it,” he replied, his face softening for a moment before their attention was distracted by the arrival of their food.

   They were silent as the meal was set in front of them, causing her eyes to widen at the size of the pie that was placed in front of her. The scent of it, however, drew another eager gurgle from her belly as she beamed a smile at the otter. After giving a friendly thank you, Nick used both paws to turn his plate in front of him so the fish was closest to him. Then, he continued as if the interruption hadn’t happened just as she shoved a mouthful of blissfully seasoned potatoes into her mouth.

   “In our situation, avoiding the obvious would be a surefire way to make it happen, anyway. It would just delay and aggravate.”

   She mulled over his words as she continued to eat, allowing her gaze to drift to him as he cut into the thick fish filet on his place. The silence lengthened, not uncomfortably, as she enjoyed the excellent food and did exactly as he suggested. She considered their attraction, rather than avoiding it. It wasn’t until he took up the glass of water for a sip that she was distracted by another thought.

   “Nick, why don’t you ever drink what you pour?”

   “I’m an alcoholic,” he replied, the answer so simply said and stunning to her that she stopped with the fork halfway to her mouth to stare at him in shock.

   “An alcoholic?” she asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice as she set the fork down into the pie and looked quickly at the shot glass beside his plate. “Shouldn’t you be avoiding that, then?”

   “Yes,” he said, setting his own fork down as he looked down at the glass. Now she recognized the look in his eyes when he looked at the drink. The thirst that had him longing for that sip. Instead, he forked up another bite of fish and took it while keeping his eyes level on hers. “But that doesn’t solve the problem in my mind. Like expecting the law to stop people from saying ‘cute’. It is a crutch. Removing something from your life to avoid temptation only means you will be more vulnerable when exposed. Rather than subject myself to sudden weakness, I exposed myself to the desire constantly until I learned to control it.”

   “Until it got easier?”

   “No. It never really gets easier,” he said, shaking his head slowly as he reached down to pick up the glass. “I still try to rationalize it. That voice in my head, telling me that one drink won’t hurt. I am forced to remind myself that it makes me weak. Vulnerable.”

   “So, you have no weaknesses?” she asked, her brow wrinkling with concern when he raised the glass and sniffed at it for a moment. The question drew his gaze, and the focus in those eyes when he looked at her with a hunger that seemed to drown out even his desire for the drink froze her in place.

   “I didn’t.”