Page 46 of His Captive

She places the book down on the table and takes me completely by surprise when she launches herself at me, her arms wrapping around my ribs, and her head resting on my chest.

“Really? You’re taking me out? Where are we going?”

I breathe deep, holding myself back from placing a hand into her soft locks, and stroking through her natural curls just so I can feel them pass through my fingertips.

“We’re going into town, and I need to know I can trust you. Can I, Lysetta?” I ask her.

“Yes.” She nods vigorously against me. “Yes Ethan, I promise you can trust me.” I can’t remember a time when I’ve wanted to believe anything as much as I do those words.

Weakness.

“Wait, why no makeup?” she asks lifting her head from my chest and looking at me curiously.

“Because...” I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Why cover perfection?” She looks almost as shocked by my words as I am. My sudden affection toward her has come out of nowhere, and I’m gonna have to rein it the fuck in, right the fuck now.

I take her hands in mine, and pull them off me, placing them at her side.

“Be ready for seven thirty, we have a table booked for eight,” I turn and walk away before I hand over anymore of my weakness to her. Then try to disregard how good it just felt to be the one who put that smile on her face.

“And you tipped them off?” I check with Buddy as I straighten my tie in the mirror.

“Well, I told Berta in the laundromat, which is as good as,” he replies, Buddy’s right. Berta knows everyone’s business, the woman makes damn sure of it.

“Good work Bud,” I wink at him, feeling surprisingly upbeat.

“Hey, Eth, are you sure this is a good idea? Like, what if she tries to escape or draws attention to you both?”

“Oh, I’m counting on her drawing attention, but for the right reasons. The girl’s going nowhere,” I tell him confidently.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because she’s petrified. She owes Sorrento money, and right now I’m her only protection from him. A rhino doesn’t charge away the ox-peckers, Buddy.” I watch him try to figure that one out in his head.

“Google it,” I smirk, leaving him to swivel in my office chair, looking completely baffled.

I make it out to the hall just in time to see Lysetta coming down the stairs. Her feet bouncing off every step she takes. The white dress I told her to wear for me sits perfectly on her hips, the skirt moving with the natural flow of her body. Her hair is perfect, its natural wave loose and bouncy. And just as I requested, her face remains natural.

She sends all my blood rushing straight to my dick, and I contemplate fucking her right there on the staircase, but...on this occasion, I don’t want to spoil her.

She stops when she reaches the bottom step and waits nervously for my reaction.

“Oh God, did I get it wrong?” she asks, looking down at herself, in panic.

I realize I must be staring. For a brief second, I’ve forgotten that it isn’t Millie stepping toward me.

“Not at all,” I assure her.

“Ethan?” She stretches up on to her tiptoes and swivels.

“Yes?” I snap myself out of my fixation.

“It’s just, I haven’t got any shoes,” she whispers nervously.

“Shoes, of course shoes… Buddy,” I call him, and he pops his head from my office, stepping all the way out when he sees her.

“Jesus, you look just like...” I shake my head at him before he could finish.

“Like an angel,” he surprises me with how quick he is to recover himself.

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