“Why don’t I know anything about you? I’ve tried, haven’t I?”
Shit! It was a trap.
“What if I don’t want to get to know you?”
“Then we wouldn’t be on the phone. You wouldn’t ask me questions. And, you wouldn’t want my pictures. Do you have conversations with all of your cover models?
I want to hang up again, but I answer him. “No.”
Some of them are stock. I don’t even know them.
“Are all of your characters inspired by someone real?”
“No.”
“Do you question a guy for every character you create?”
“No.”
“Then, I’ll have to guess you’re doing something different with me. Right?”
“Well…” I don’t know how to answer his question. I didn’t realize I was making a difference, until he put it like that.
“‘Well’ isn’t an answer. Stop fucking around. Stop resisting what you obviously want.”
“What I want?”
“Yes. You want it just as much as I do. Maybe less because I’m not the one doing the avoiding.”
“You bring up sex—”
“I’ve already told you what I want. I want to know about your childhood just as much as I want to hear you moan my name.”
“Why?"
"Because you intrigue me and doesn't everything begin with a spark of interest?"
Chapter 8
Luca
Our conversation made Ella a little more cooperative over the last month. She hasn't hidden from me like she usually would, and I'm happy that we talk over the phone more than we chat online. I'm wearing her down. Right now, I'm in a teasing mood. I smile as I hit post on my latest picture. I used to use social media as a way to post nice pictures of scenery or keep acquaintances in the loop of what I wanted them to know without actually having to interact with everyone, but now, I use it to torture Ella's pussy. I enjoy getting her hot and bothered, then having her lash out because she's turned on. It's become a game for me to see how long it'll take her to notice.
I'm on another one of my many business trips, wrapping up a meeting with Remy Masters at his New York office. It'd be an honor to have my family's wine distributed internationally in a business as big as the Masters Hotel Group. I review my notes while I enjoy a solo dinner. Unlike most trips, I do not have a travel companion.
I smile once I hear the familiar ping of my notifications and check my watch. Twenty- seven minutes. She's getting faster.
EllaRoyal: I see you're thirst trapping again, displaying your body like a whore.
My laughter carries in the calm restaurant, but there are enough people drinking at the bar for me not to seem out of place. There's something rewarding about being in the same time zone.
LucaGirelli: A whore?
EllaRoyal: Yes. You got these bitches throwing their electronic panties at you, slut.
My cheeks hurt from the grinning.
LucaGirelli: Did you throw yours?
EllaRoyal: I'm not wearing any. Tell me something. Do you really sit around in a badass flannel (I want that shirt by the way) hanging open displaying your sexy chest and abs while your hand rests partially in the sweats that display hints of your dick print?
LucaGirelli: I'm more interested to find out why you aren't wearing underwear, but yes I do sometimes.
EllaRoyal: Such a whore
LucaGirelli: You have no idea. I can be a dirty fucking whore, and you'll love every minute.
EllaRoyal: Think so?
LucaGirelli: No. I promise.
EllaRoyal: Uh-huh. Let's discuss the acquisition of that shirt.
LucaGirelli: Baby, if you want my shirt, there are stipulations.
EllaRoyal: Now, you want to be a businessman.
LucaGirelli: I'm always a businessman.
EllaRoyal: Not when you're being an internet slut.
LucaGirelli: Even then. If you want this shirt, you'd have to model it for me.
I wave for the server, but he's been slow all night. A trait that would not bother me normally. Italians tend to not rush eating and socializing, but the socializing I want to do is on my phone and the subject will have my dick hard for the world. Rising, I fish a fifty dollar bill out of my wallet. I stop him before he takes the next table's order by pressing the money in his hand and announcing my departure. I check for messages as I ride the elevator to my room.
EllaRoyal: Model?
LucaGirelli: Where are you?
EllaRoyal: Home.
LucaGirelli: Good.
EllaRoyal: Is it?
The moment my hotel room's door reconnects with the jamb, I'm calling her. I'm addicted to hearing her voice and how the things I say change the inflections and her words.
"Yes?" she answers with amusement and arousal lingering in her tone.
"You'd have to wear my shirt with nothing else. The thought of my shirt touching your skin turns me on."
"Does it?" she goads me.
"Yes. I'm so fucking hard thinking about it. I could fly you out and spend the weekend with my head between your thighs."
"Which head?" Her voice is wispy. She's more aroused than amused.
"Both—suck and fuck, fuck and suck—until you can't take it anymore."
"You talk a big game, Mister."
"I can show you better than I can tell you." I'm naked and in bed before she can respond. "Turn on your camera; I want to see you."
"No, Luca. I'm already on the phone with you. That's enough."
"It's not. Send me a picture."
"Of what?"
"Start with your face."
Her picture comes through, and I can't help but laugh.
"You didn't even try to smile."
"That wasn't a requirement in your request."
I'm caught between a laugh and snort. "Keep playing. I'll just punish you more. Send me a picture of your ass."
"Why are you awake?"
"Because it's early, and the thought of me burying my hard dick inside your wet pussy has me so fucking hard, I can't concentrate on anything else. Answer the fucking video chat."
Ella's wild brown eyes fill the screen. Her long lashes blink a few times, but her pupils are dilated. She likes how I speak to her but doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s okay. I’ll guide her along the way. I don’t say anything at first because I’m content with just looking at her. Her deep brown skin looks so smooth; I ache to touch her. Her gaze slips from my eyes to my naked chest. It’s arousing and frustrating. She wants me, but she’s not ready. If I were to book a flight and call her from Toronto—she’d probably move provinces.
Her eyes snap back to my face when I speak.
“Just ask if you want to see the rest.”
“I’m not the one who wanted to video chat.”
“Are you saying you’d show me anything I’d ask to see?”
Ella flattening her lips makes me laugh. She hates when I turn the conversation around.
“Luca, you’re always so aggressive.”
“Direct and sure—I know what I want. Just waiting for you to know what you want.”
“How old are you?” she asks to switch subjects
Ah. More getting to know you questions.
“I’m thirty-six. You?”
“Twenty-nine.”
Relaxing, I lie back in bed. The camera slips enough to give her a glimpse of my abdomen, and she involuntarily licks her lips. Ella is going to lick more than that, but I’ll play along with her distraction for now.
“What’s your real name?”
“Real name?”
“Yes the one your parents gave you.”
Rolling to my side, I prop my head up as I watch and wait for her to trust me. The wheels are turning in her head as she decides on her answer.
“Elissa Donavan.”
Elissa shifts in bed and pulls her shirt over her knees. The action causes one of her tantalizing shoulders to pop out and elongates the side of her
neck. My dick aches since it was hard before the conversation started.
“I like it,” I confess. “You know what’s more exciting?”
“What?” she asks begrudgingly.
“I know what name to moan.”
“Geesh.” She giggles. “I’d think you’re the erotica writer, Mr. Horny Pants.”
The way she stares at my face tells me she likes my smile.
“You make me horny.”
“How? I haven’t done anything, really.”
“Just existing. But, you have...”
“What? I haven’t sent any pictures or talked dirty to you—”
“You did talk dirty to me.”
“I was drunk. It doesn’t count.”
“It does, but that day doesn’t matter. I’d want you just as much without it.”
“Just because I exist?”
“Yes. You’re gorgeous. I can see you now, but I want to taste you—to feel your skin underneath my fingertips—to smell your arousal and hear you moan my name.” My excitement has me pausing to rub the ache I’ve created with my thoughts.
A smirk plays on my lips when her eyes stop at the bottom of the screen; she can’t see what I’m doing, but the slight tug of disappointment of her mouth gives away her desires. She wants to see it.
"I can't wait to introduce you two."
"Really?" The way her eyes flicker, I can tell she's trying not to roll them. Her face is expressive; she doesn't know how to control it.
"Yes. I imagine you being your usual anxious self, but you'll kneel anyway. You'll pretend like you don't want to suck it, but I'll softly rub my head on those beautiful lips of yours with gentle taps. Your desire to taste me will have your little hot tongue poking out for a sample. We'll both want more. I'll moan happily when my dick slides into your mouth. I've wanted it for so long. I promise to be patient and give you time to adjust to my size. Then, I'll grab your hair and fuck your mouth, testing the boundaries, until you choke, ease back and do it all again. You’ll know exactly how I like my pleasure." I trace my fingers over the screen where her sexy lips are agape. "I'm going to cum down your throat so hard."
"Who said that's something I'd want?"
"You."
Elissa fails at suppressing her eye roll this time. "I said that?"
"Yes. In the things you write and how you just reacted to what I told you."
"How did I react?"
"You're so wet, I can taste it from here. If I were anywhere near you, we'd be fucking so hard right now…" I let it trail because I know the truth. “Take off your shirt, I want to see you.”
“Aren’t you sleepy?” Her words deflect, but her tone says ‘fuck me,’ but I’ve learned something about my little Elissa.
“Shirt off, now, Elissa.”
Chapter 9
Elissa
Why does Luca have to be so damn fine? And, why does his bossiness turn me on? I want to fight him and lick him all at the same damn time. I suspect he’s naked, but the damn phone won’t go any lower. He’s teasing me on purpose. He has my attention in two ways. The nosey writer in me wants to see the goods, and the woman in me demands it.
“We can do this my way remotely or my way in person. It’s up to you.”
I scoff because he’s a minimum of eleven hours away.
“You can’t do shit from Italy. It’d be a whole different day by the time you’d make it.” The dangerous glint in his beautiful eyes makes my stomach drop.
“Baby, I’m in New York. I can be there in less than two hours. Are you removing your shirt or am I?”
Ah, shit.
He smirks at the panic that flashed on my face like a smug bastard.
“Hold on,” I concede.
That’ll explain why he’s awake.
We’re in the same time zone right now. I hate to admit it, but as I begin to slip my shirt off my body, I feel the tingle of excitement in my belly. The naughty part of me says I should have sent him my address and hung up in his face. My pussy throbs as I try to imagine the crazy Italian showing up to my house in the wee hours of the night horny and mad. Damn, that sounds like it would be so hot. I need to write a scene like that for Gio and Alissa. Then again, why do Gio and Alissa get to have all the fun? I slip my shirt back into place.
“Luca?”
I focus the camera on my still fully dressed self, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in challenge. I hit the message icon and type in my address.
“Yes?” Mr. Pushy says.
“I’m calling your bluff.” I hang up before he can respond.
I’m excited and terrified because I’m about to live the longest two-plus hours of my life. I receive a message, but I’m scared to check it. I pace my room for five minutes, then check before curiosity suffocates me.
LucaGirelli: You asked for this…
His message makes everything throb. I pull up my contacts and call Etié.
“Yellow!”
No, I don’t know why she says yellow when she answers the phone.
“Are you busy?”
“No, the man and the boy went on a late-night ice cream and burger run which is surprising since the Colombian always has a health speech locked and loaded. It’s like damn let the kid be a kid. I did ask for some french fries though. It’s not like I’m gonna let a good late-night run go to waste—”
“Etié!” I cut her off because I’m not sure how long her thought was going to take.
“What! Did you kill somebody?”
“Myself, maybe?”
Etié chuckles like I’m a comedian. “How did you maybe kill yourself?”
“Luca was all naked, yet hiding the goods and talking shit about coming over because he is in New York—”
“No! You did not commission an international booty call!”
I giggle when I hear her son who must have just shown up in the background say, “Daddy, what’s a booty call?”
“Mind your business, boy,” Etié admonishes, the change of her breathing means she’s on the move at a rapid speed. A door closes in the background.
“So, Luca,” she pauses to gasp for breath. “Hold on, a bitch is tired…”
“Yes! I sent him my address.”
“Oh. My. God!” she yells but her tone is not as admonishing as it should be. “Girl! This is not a drill. I need your address, his contact information, and his first and last name…”
“You’re not making me feel any better,” I point out, while I type everything she asks.
“Honestly, I’m more worried about your woman parts. When was the last time a man saw your vagina?”
I begin doing the math in my head. “Okay, I see your point. I can’t believe I did that.”
“I can, he’s fine as hell, and you’re practically a virgin again. Hell, I would have sent him my address for research purposes, of course.”
My laughter kills some of my nerves. It’s always for ‘research purposes’ when she says something off-color.
“Keep telling yourself that; your husband is gonna kick your ass one day.”
“Speaking of ass, what if he wants to do butt stuff? And, is everything ready for company if you know what I mean? Like, I shouldn't have to tell you to shave.”
“Ha. You and ‘butt stuff.’ Yes, I had a full body wax the other day, but I think I’ll take a bubble bath to calm my nerves.”
“Do that then hydrate but not too much. Have a light snack—no dairy. You absolutely do not need gas at a time like this. And, most importantly, remember everything that goes down because I want a full play-by-play, with stick figures. Now, go jump the hot Italian for us. I mean you—definitely jump him for you.”
She gets on my nerves.
“Okay, I guess I’ll go do all of that.”
“Oh, text me when he arrives before you answer the door and get distracted. So, I can have a timeline for the death of your twat.”
I snort and hang up. Enough of that, I need to take my mind off the crazy thing I just did.
/> ***
I jump when my doorbell chimes, and I’m suddenly torn between running and answering. I check the peephole and confirm that I was in fact crazy enough to call his bluff. And, Luca was not bluffing. I’d put the same shirt back on after my bath. I don’t want him to think I did any special prepping for him.
My heart is pounding as I shakily type out his arrival announcement to Etié.
Elissa: He’s here.
Etié: Oh, shit. It’s go time.
Inhaling deeply, I calm myself, throw my gum in the bin, and crack open the door. Peeking around, I greet the big asshole.
“Yes?”
He’s taller than I thought as he stands there looking too damn good in a white t-shirt and sweats. He has his leather bag slung over his shoulder as he studies my face. Luca bites his bottom lip with so much unspoken sexual promise that my arousal and apprehension increases simultaneously and freezes me into place. Luca pushes past me, letting himself into my home. I have no choice but to close and lock the door. I lean against it, studying him as he tosses his bag on my couch, kicks off his shoes, and sheds his shirt.
Holy shit.
My nipples bead and tighten under my shirt, and I do everything in my power to refrain from squirming as I feel my wetness on my naked flesh between my thighs. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing in front of me as naked as a newborn. I remain focused on his eyes as his perfect teeth rip open the foil packet. His muscles flex as he rolls the latex into place without taking his eyes off of me. Luca is really in my house with one thing on his mind. I open my mouth to speak but close it when nothing comes out. His body is magnificent. My eyes don’t know where to start or stop.
His clean scent bounces off his body. I feel his heat because I’m trapped between him and the door. The warmth of his fingers singes my skin when he grabs my chin forcing me to look him in the eyes. They’re hot with lust and steady with serious intent. If I thought there was a minute chance that he’d back out, the way he looks through me to read my dirtiest desires tells me this is happening.
I try to speak again, but his thumb slides over my lips to silence me. His warm skin, hotly contrasting with the cool metal of his thumb ring, somehow adds an extra layer of erotic delight to the moment. Luca’s mouth covers mine before I can breathe, stealing the rest of my breath. The harshness of his kiss belies the gentleness of his previous touch. Luca sears me with his full force, ripping away my shirt as his tongue slides into my mouth, taking everything he desires. I love it, and I hate it. His fingers find their way in my hair pulling abruptly until low-level pain shoots through me, making me happy I’m wearing my own hair. He deepens the kiss, giving me more than I’ve ever asked, and I drink greedily from his well. He takes back his kisses as he nips his way down my chin until he bites then sucks on my neck hard enough to make me moan out loud.
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