Fully Loaded

by Hissong, Theresa

  “No,” he replied. “That sounds perfect.”

  “I just need some identification,” she said, holding out her hand. Donovan had to nudge me to get my attention, but I finally reached in my bag and handed her my license. A few more clicks and she handed us two boarding passes.

  “You are all set. Have a great trip,” she said, giving me a wink.

  Donovan and I rushed through airport security and made our way onto the plane. We’d been given first class seats. “That woman probably thinks we are rushing off to get married in Vegas. She’ll be calling the gossip rags before this plane takes off.”

  “Probably,” he shrugged and fastened his seatbelt. He’d asked for the window seat, and after he slipped on his knit cap, Donovan pulled me close and slumped down in his seat. “I always get recognized on planes.”

  “I didn’t even think about that,” I said, enjoying the warmth of his arm around my shoulders. I rested my head in the crook of his arm and closed my eyes, letting his scent envelop me.

  “Where are we going to stay?” I asked, once we were in the air. The flight attendant came by and asked if we’d like champagne and we both declined. I wanted to make the comment about what people would think, but I left it alone.

  “Don’t worry, babe,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Okay,” I answered, resting my head on his shoulder. I totally trusted him to get us where we needed to be, because I was clueless. I’d never been to Las Vegas, but I’m sure he had during his many times out on the road with the band.

  A loud ding woke me from a nap and I raised my eyes to his as I heard the flight attendant giving directions for landing. Donovan smiled and our gazes locked. He raised his hand and cupped my face, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. Very gently, he leaned in and kissed me softly, whispering, “Welcome to Vegas, babe. Are you ready for your date?”

  “I guess I am,” I giggled, closing my eyes and enjoying the sweetness of him holding me the way he did. The way he looked at me made me think of a million reasons why I wanted this to work. All of the nagging thoughts in the back of my head vanished when he put on the charm. Could this relationship actually work? I really didn’t have an answer for that, but I was going to enjoy our date weekend if it killed me.

  Chapter 10

  It was late when we landed in Sin City. Flying into the city at night was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen from a plane. The Strip was lit up like runway lights and when we exited the plane, we were whisked into the wild atmosphere of this twenty-four hour town.

  Since we didn’t have any bags, Donovan bypassed baggage claim and hurried out to the waiting line of taxi cabs. I looked at the endless line and was a little shocked at the amount of yellow cars lined up in their own lane at the airport. If it wasn’t for the sweltering heat, I would’ve thought we were in New York City.

  As a cab pulled up, Donovan opened the back door for me to enter before him. The cabbie asked where were we headed and Donovan said, “Caesar’s” without missing a beat and handed over a ticket he’d bought after we’d departed the plane.

  I quickly pulled on my seatbelt as the driver rushed away from the airport at a speed I knew wasn’t anywhere near the posted limit.

  “Have you ever been here?” he asked, watching me with amusement as I looked out the window at the city.

  “No,” I whispered. I was a little in shock and a little in awe. I was in Vegas!

  “You’ll love it,” he said, looking up when the driver pulled into the front of the casino.

  He paid our fare and held his hand out for me, helping me out of the cab. As we entered the lobby, I heard the sound of slot machines singing and people talking. Even after the short nap on the plane, I still yawned as we made our way to the check in desk.

  “Mr. Milano,” the lady behind the desk smiled, looking at him surprised. She immediately started typing away on her computer and Donovan pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around me possessively as we waited for our room key. The desk clerk smiled warmly at Donovan and went back to booking our room for the weekend. “How long will you be staying?”

  “We will check out Sunday morning,” he replied, kissing the top of my head. I blushed at his public display of affection, but no one seemed to notice as they went about their own business.

  “Okay, here is your room key,” she announced, handing over two plastic cards in a paper sleeve. “Do you need someone to carry your bag?”

  “No,” he smiled. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

  She wished us a happy stay and told us the numbers to call if we needed anything. He took my hand again and walked toward the elevators. I didn’t comment on the fact that the lady at the desk knew him. I was learning that Donovan was more popular than I’d originally thought.

  “I need clothes, Donovan,” I announced. We stepped inside the elevator and once the doors closed, he pushed me into the corner, dropping his bag so that he could take my face in his hands.

  “You won’t need any, little rose,” he whispered, taking my lips in a kiss that made my toes curl. The elevator announced our arrival to our floor and we quickly exited the car before the doors closed us inside. Our room was straight ahead and I gasped softly when he opened the door.

  “You got us a damn house, Donovan,” I scolded.

  “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I like the penthouse suites here.” His comment stunned me and I was a little frustrated that he spent that much money on a short weekend getaway.

  Inside was a dining room that sat twelve and a kitchen that was larger than two of my apartments put together. The walls were painted white, but the accent walls were marked with deep brown swirls to match the brown patterns in the luxurious furniture.

  I followed him passed two bedrooms as we walked down a hallway that was lit with track lighting built into the walls. At the end of the hallway were double doors with gold knobs for handles. He pushed them open and I found myself gasping again at the size of the bedroom. There was just too much room in this place for the two of us.

  “Donovan, you really shouldn’t have done this for a date,” I frowned. “This place is just too much.”

  “I wanted to show you a good time,” he frowned, dropping his bag on the bed and pulling me into his arms. “It’s late. We can argue tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I replied, reluctantly. I was tired and the ginormous bed was calling my name.

  I didn’t even care that I had no clothes.

  Warm hands made a path up my bare leg, over my hip, and around my waist to hold my breast tight. “…Lila…,” he mumbled. Was that a mumble or someone’s name? I laid there frozen and silent for a good thirty seconds, trying to figure out if he was asleep and dreaming, or if he’d actually been aware when he said that. And who the fuck was Lila?

  “Babe,” he mumbled, again. He pulled me closer and ground his erection into my backside. I growled and pinched his forearm that was like a steel bar across my chest.

  “Ouch,” he snarled. “What did you do that for?” He squeezed me tighter and I couldn’t get away from him if I tried. He was just too damn strong for me to haul off of my naked body.

  “Did you call me another name?” I asked, unsure of what I’d just heard. His body went from warm and soft, to cold and ridged instantly. I could’ve sworn he called me by someone else’s name.

  “What?” he asked, sleep clogging his voice. “No, I don’t think I did.”

  “I swear I just heard you call me, ‘Lila’,” I accused.

  “No, babe,” he said, touching the side of my face. “I know who you are.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, reluctant to believe him. I told myself I was being silly and that I must’ve misunderstood him. Now, I had no idea if I’d imagined it or not. We were both half asleep and just starting to wake up when he moaned out a name. Maybe I did hear him wrong.

  “What time is it?” I asked, rolling out of his embrace. He sat up and stretched. I looked
away from the muscles in his back rolling with the action of his movement. Just looking at him made me weak in the knees and wet between my legs.

  “Nine,” he replied, sleepily. “Let’s get up and have breakfast. What would you like to do today?”

  “I really don’t know,” I admitted, sliding out of bed and grabbing a robe that was hung in the closet. “I’ve never been here, remember?”

  “Leave it to me, babe,” he winked. Walking over to the desk by the front door, he grabbed brown, leather bound menu, studied it for a moment, and then handed it to me, “Let me know what you’d like and I’ll call down and place and order.”

  I scanned the menu and tried my hardest not to look at the prices. Who pays twenty bucks for eggs? I scribbled down the breakfast combo with white toast and my eggs scrambled and handed it over to him, asking him for orange juice and coffee as well.

  Finding the remote, I made myself at home on the couch in the living room. I stopped the channel on cartoons and smiled when Donovan chuckled behind me, the name slip forgotten…for now.

  “Don’t laugh,” I warned, glaring at him.

  “Not laughing, babe,” he grinned, taking a seat next to me. He’d pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. The tattoos that spread across his chest were very appealing and I found myself absently tracing some scrollwork with my index finger. He never complained or pulled my hand away when I touched him, so I figured that was okay.

  “I need clothes,” I whispered, hearing Bugs Bunny making fun of Elmer Fudd in the background.

  “I’ve had some ordered for you,” he said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “They should be delivered shortly.”

  “Donovan,” I scowled. “I could’ve packed a bag.”

  “Yeah, but that would’ve given away my surprise date,” he frowned. “You were surprised, right?”

  “Yes,” I smiled. When he got his way, I noticed that he acted almost childlike in his reactions. He liked pleasing the people around him. He liked pleasing me.

  “You shouldn’t be spending this crazy amount of money on me,” I scolded, looking away. “It’s too much.”

  We were interrupted by a knock on the door. A woman dressed in a starched, purple business suit entered the room with a garment bag held high above her head. In her other hand was a handled, plastic bag containing three shoe boxes.

  “What did you do?” I growled, not taking my eyes off the woman who walked swiftly down the hallway and into the master suite. And what was I going to do really? Tell the woman I didn’t want the clothes? I had nothing but the dirty ones I’d worn on the plane. I had no problem wearing dirty clothes, but I drew the line at re-wearing dirty undies.

  Donovan smiled and jutted his chin out, telling me silently to follow the woman. I hurried down the hallway and found her inside the closet, unzipping the bag she’d hung on the rack. She was tall and slender. Her black hair was cut to her shoulders and styled so perfectly, it looked like someone had painted it on her. There was so much hairspray in her hair that not one hair moved when she walked. Her makeup was professionally done and I vaguely wondered how much she made to be a personal shopper to the rich and famous.

  “Ms. Rose,” she began. “My name is Marci Waters. I will be your personal shopper this weekend. Mr. Milano has informed me that you will be requiring casual attire while here in Las Vegas this weekend. I have brought a few outfits for your approval. If you do not like any of them, I will return to my store and bring you whatever you need. Let me show you.” She proceeded to pull out a pair of denim shorts and a pale yellow, sleeveless blouse that was cinched at the waist and pleated below the tie that made a cute little bow in the back.

  Next, she removed a beautiful blue sundress that tied around my neck. The hem fell to just a few inches above my knees and in the bag she found a pair of white, strappy sandals with a two inch heel. I almost cried when she removed a short sleeved pullover that was long enough to cover the bruises on my upper arm and fat, silver bracelets to cover my wrist. Donovan had thought of everything.

  More shoes followed, and she’d even brought me two new bras with matching underwear. The most disturbing detail was that everything fit perfectly.

  “The fact that you know my sizes is a little creepy, Donovan,” I said, my arms folding over my chest in frustration. “Again, this is too much.”

  “I want you to have a good time,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I know it seems like too much, but if I’d asked you to go away with me for the weekend, would you have said yes?”

  “Probably not,” I answered.

  “See,” he smiled, proudly. “I wanted to make our first real date special.”

  Seeing him so excited to do these things for me melted the anger and frustration I’d been feeling. I was frustrated and I felt uneasy at accepting gifts from him. We’d only known each other a short time. Hell, a very short time, but he was quickly worming his way into my heart.

  Donovan was very possessive, and if I hadn’t noticed it before with the way he handled Trenton, I sure as hell noticed it when we took to the Las Vegas Strip an hour later. Men gawked at me and Donovan scowled at them, sending their gaze a different direction when they saw the anger in his eyes.

  “Stop growling at people,” I scolded.

  “They need to quit eye-fucking you,” he cursed. His arm was either around my waist or over my shoulders. If he wasn’t touching me that way, he had my hand held firmly in his everywhere we went.

  As we walked up to the Bellagio Casino for lunch, Donovan cursed and squeezed my hand tighter, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” I asked, confused.

  “This,” he replied. It only took a few seconds before three men wielding cameras approached us, shouting questions as Donovan pulled me closer to his side. He smiled warmly at them and only answered a few of their questions.

  “What’s her name?” one asked. He was short and pudgy, his hair was receding, and the dark strands had small gray streaks around his temple.

  “Are you getting married?” another asked. This one was younger, about my age. He was blonde and looked more like he should’ve been out catching waves and not hounding rockstars about their personal lives.

  “When is Ares Revenge going back into the studio?” the third guy asked. This guy looked like he could be in the band with his multitude of tattoos and long, light brown hair. His green eyes sparkled with mischief when he asked, “Can you two pose for me?”

  “They’re going to take pictures, regardless. So, either we give them a posed picture or they will post the worst one they have on the front page next week. What do you say?” Donovan raised a brow at me and I nodded. I really didn’t want to see a picture of me with my jiggly bits in an awkward position.

  He pulled me to his side and wrapped a possessive arm around my waist and we smiled for the camera. The guy took two photos and thanked us, even holding his hand out for a handshake. Donovan and I shook all three men’s hands and watched as they walked away.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” I laughed, walking alongside Donovan as we approached the entrance to the casino.

  “Don’t think that they are all that nice,” he warned. “You’ve seen what happens to some celebrities?”

  “Yes,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s scary.”

  “Yes it is,” he replied. “If you are approached, please just get away from them, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I laughed. “Like they’d want to talk to me.”

  “I’m serious, Heather,” he frowned. “Please take it seriously.”

  “I will, Donovan,” I promised, giving his hand a little squeeze. That seemed to calm him down, and as we headed for the restaurant, I wondered why he became so damn serious all of a sudden. I mean, come on! Who the hell would care about a high school history teacher from Louisiana, anyway?

  Chapter 11

  We’d spent the entire day sightseeing in Las Vegas. My feet were aching and I was ready to take a long, hot soak in the tub a
t the hotel.

  Donovan had been fun and playful as we walked from place to place. He even got caught up in a game of blackjack with a NFL player and his brother. I sat in on the game, but played carefully with the stack of chips Donovan had laid out in front of me. I knew I was sweating bullets every time I bet the table minimum at a hundred dollars a pop.

  Thankfully, we walked away from the table three hundred ahead of what we’d started with and Donovan insisted I keep the winnings. I tucked the three bills in my front pocket as deep as they could go.

  His phone rang as we entered the suite. I left him to go use the bathroom and freshen up my makeup that the personal shopper had left on the bathroom counter. I made notes of the brands, because I’d never in my life used makeup this amazing. I’m sure it cost a pretty penny. Since the makeup was now mine, I was going to use it sparingly once I was back home.

  “Our guitarist is in town,” Donovan announced from the bedroom door. I’d just sat down on the bed and flipped on the television. “He wants us to meet him and his wife for dinner.”

  “That would be great,” I smiled. “What time?”

  “He said he’d meet us downstairs at the restaurant in an hour,” he replied, looking at his phone. “Can you be ready by then?”

  “Sure,” I smiled.

  Donovan left me to myself and I laid on the bed for the longest time, staring at the ceiling…thinking. Did he call me by another woman’s name? Who was Lila? If she’d been a family member, then he would’ve told me…right? Was this his ex? Was it his wife?

  Oh, God, Heather! What have you gotten yourself into?

  No…It couldn’t be his wife, because I’d been to his house. There were no women’s clothes in the closet. There sure as hell wasn’t any girl stuff under the bathroom cabinets. I’d used his hairdryer and found one of his hair ties in a drawer in the bathroom. And I know it was his hair tie. His hair was almost as long as mine and I’d seen him wearing the same kind ever since I’d met him. Why was I making such a damn big deal about this anyway?