His Plaything
I pulled it out, desperate for a distraction.
A message blinked on the screen: "Hey, it's Giovanni," then after a smiling emoji, "when would you be free for our date?"
Free. The word made me laugh under my breath. A bitter, bitter laugh.
My lips pressed together. If Dante wanted to play these games, fine. He'd broken the terms of our so-called contract already which meant we were no longer sex partners. And I wasn't about to sit around feeling sorry for myself.
So I typed fast, fingers trembling but sure: "Tonight? At your place?"