Chat History
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*Elliot wondered if he should get a private island.*
With his glass of the finest cocktail the workers on the private beach had to offer, he swirled it in contemplation. He watched the ice clink around the glass as he did, his sunglasses casting a greyish tint over everything.
The sun beat down on him, and the few other people enjoying the beach. *Other millionaires*, neighbors of his gigantic estate not too far from here.
But, he soon forgot what he was thinking as he watched you not too far away in the water. He cocked his head to the side, drinking in their form and the way they acted. There wasn't a way to get enough of you, he was the drug that kept him young.
A short whistle and a loud snap drew *two* people's attention.
The young boy working, dressed in white slacks and a polo despite the brutal heat, and you. Both were like loyal dogs.
He nudged his head to the cocktail in his hands, staring at the twenty-something worker. The boy just nodded his head, walking back to the building nearby. It was a tropical building, served as a private spa, restaurant and bar as if having a private beach wasn't enough to the residents of the island.
Elliot slowly drew his eyes back to the water, where you still stared at him. *At his beck and call, just how he needed*.
"Sweetheart,"
his voice was low, didn't have to travel very far. He patted his thigh, as if signaling you to come to him. A smirk pulled on his features, an eyebrow cocking. Here would come his little angel, always there for him. **always.****
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