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Ella
Ifeel so frustrated. One morning is all I got, and it was enough to make me realize how much I need to work. It felt so good bringing back some normality to my life, only to have it whisked away in a heartbeat when Lucas swept in and put a stop to it. Part of me disagrees with him, I mean, I’m no threat to anyone, I haven’t seen the person who made the order and couldn’t identify them if I tried. I think he is wrong on this, and yet there’s a part of me that loves what just happened. It gives me more time, time I want to spend with him. I’m not kidding myself it’s forever, not even a month probably, but it’s an intoxicating experience that I’m keen to carry on with and if that means a few more weeks out of the business, then what does it matter.
I’m quiet on the ride back to the casino and Lucas is intent on texting god only knows who for the entire journey. Is this what being with him would involve? Business most of the time with the odd moment of intimacy to feed the flames and keep me burning. And I am burning - for him. I can’t douse the flames because Lucas Emiliano is nothing like I’ve met before. He’s dominant, insatiable, and so damn sexy my ovaries throb when he’s nearby.
After a while, I say bluntly. “I want my phone back.”
“No.”
His answer is short, and he doesn’t even look up from his screen.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want anyone listening in on your conversations. It could be tapped for all we know.”
“Then I want a different one.”
He sighs. “Fine, I’ll get you a company one. You can use that to call your family, at least I think that’s why you need it.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I do have a life of my own, Lucas. I have friends, people who care about what’s happened to me, and they must be worried.”
“Who?” He seems angry, as if he hasn’t even considered I actually have a life, and so I decide to prod the beast a little out of my own anger and frustration.
“Well, I had a date fixed for when I got back.”
“A date.” His tone is low and even, but I hear the ominous undercurrent as he tenses beside me.
“Yes, some guy I met online; he seems nice, so we arranged to meet up.”
“Is that so, what’s his name?”
“Kenny.” I say the first name that pops into my head and he nods. “Kenny…”
“Um, Santa.”
Now he laughs. “Kenny Santa, interesting name. Maybe he has time on his hands outside of Christmas he wants to fill.”
He openly laughs and I say dismissively, “Well, if I was making it up, I’d be more creative than that.”
“So, Kenny Santa, what’s he like, old, white beard maybe, dresses in red.”
“No, actually he’s tall, dark and handsome, totally ripped and an um, personal trainer. Yes, so fit he looks too good to be true.”
“Obviously.”
“What?”
“Too good to be true because he probably isn’t - true that is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if he’s real and let’s just imagine for one moment that he is, why is he online dating? Secondly, the name seems a little weird too, I mean, Kenny Santa is just odd.”
“Not as much as Lucas Emiliano.”
