Sit.
The heat in my belly intensifies. My breath shudders in and out. My knees want to part. I fight them, fight the deeper tingling between my legs. Todd climbs the stage again, comes closer. My bare feet slide in opposite directions on the smooth wooden floor, but my knees stay glued together.
Quinn’s low, gravel-rough voice replays over and over in my head as his deeply hypnotic, soulless eyes, stare at me from the ever-advancing camera lens.
Come here, Elly.
Sit.
Elly…
Elly.
“I think that’s it for this set up. Let’s get you ready for the next one.”
My body jerks into the present. I turn away from the camera and tighten my belly against the persistent heat. The sight of sour-faced Wendy waiting just behind Todd helps dissipate the electricity sizzling through my blood.
I stand and follow her. She hands me a russet-colored lace Basque and thong and I change.
Todd directs me to the bed and again allows me to strike my own poses. The sensations return, stronger than before.
My mind whirls with more than a touch of confusion. How can I be enjoying this? How can my body be this hot when everything about what I’m doing is wrong?
Yes, I’m doing this for a blindingly simple reason—to keep myself alive and to keep Clayton from discovering the secret I hold locked in my heart. But a part of me is also enjoying the thrill of dressing up in nice lingerie, wearing makeup and playing minx with the camera. Because I know the man with the mechanical voice will see it?
Yes.
The answer slides deep into me, twists within my groin and hardens my nipples as Todd snaps away. The silk sheets tangle around my body. I let my fingers glide over it, loving the texture, wondering how it would feel warmed by two bodies instead of one. I slide my hands up, rest them on either side of my head. I know my body is on show, my nipples clear to see beneath the lace, but I don’t care. In fact, the idea makes me hotter. So much so, I feel a deep pang of regret when Todd calls a halt.
The third and final scene before the vanity mirror is simple. In a purple and black slip that barely covers my naked ass, I pick up the gold-cased lipstick, lean forward and slide the tube across my lip. Without instruction, I allow my gaze to find the lens through the mirror. The faster clicks of the camera tells me I’m doing something right, and when Todd mutters, “Fantastic!” beneath his breath, elation spikes through me.
I’m sad when he lowers his camera. For the first time, he smiles. “That was good. Really good.”
I return his smile. “Thanks.”
He hands me the gown to cover up and I see a cheeky gleam in his eyes. “You’re the kind of girl that gives people the idea that gay guys like me can be convinced to switch lanes.”
I laugh. “Thanks, I think.”
He grins and walks away.
Fionnella is waiting for me once I change back into my normal clothes.#p#分页标题#e#
“The boss would like to see you. Leave your stuff, you can get them after.”
My heart leaps into my throat. I try to read her face but she’s too good for me. I leave the room, my mind a chaotic vortex. He said we wouldn’t speak again until my training was done. So why does he want me? Have I blown it?
Has he already seen the pictures and decided I’m no longer suitable? The thought of losing something I’m even now not sure was ever in my grasp fills me with so much anguish, my fingers shake as I turn the door handle and enter the familiar room.
Everything is the same, and yet I sense a difference in the atmosphere. A subtle shift I’m unable to pinpoint exactly.
“Lucky.”
The way he says my name draws a shiver.
“Hi,” I manage as I shut the door behind me.
“Sit down.”
My movements lack perfect coordination as I move forward, and for the first time since this whole surreal situation started I experience real fear. Oh, I’ve been afraid for my life since fleeing The Villa. But there’s nothing like being offered hope, and having it yanked away from you without explanation.
Fists balled in my lap, I stare at the surface of the table. Looking into the camera is too much. My desperation is too raw.
“Look at me, Lucky.”
The request is absurd seeing as he’s not in the room with me, but I know what he means. I want to pre-empt rejection with a plea. Or a fuck you. But words refuse to form.
I look into the camera.
“I’m told we have an accommodation problem.”
Shock spikes through me. “I…what?”
“You’ve been evicted from your motel.”
Fionnella.
My gaze drops. “Yes.”
“Lucky.” The demand is robotic, but no less intractable.
I find the lens again.