Page 55 of Saved By My Buyers

It’s surreal having people pamper me, but I can slowly see myself transforming into another person. One that’s confident and doesn’t let others dictate her future. I want to be that person, which is why I’m doing this auction.

Dressing in my black teddy after they leave, I wrap myself in my robe and wait for them to call me. I know that it’ll feel as if it’s taking forever, but will likely happen in a blink of an eye.

Now, I can only hope I’ll be able to stay awake until then.

Jack

“We’re here,” I murmur, glancing at Bronwyn who is chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she says with a nod. “It feels as if we were just talking about this, and now it’s time.”

Getting out of my truck, I walk around to open her door. The last few months I’ve been really working on my relationship with Bronwyn. The extra attention has made her blossom, the color is always high in her cheeks, from whatever dirty comment I have to whisper in her ear, and it makes me want to kick my own ass for waiting so long.

At the tail end of February, Lorrie came into my office freaking the fuck out. The video cameras at one of the Brighton department stores flagged a woman who walked off the street to shop.

The program marked her as a ninety-eight percent match for Dahlia Moore’s likeness.

Taking Bronwyn’s hand, I force myself to smile at her as I help her out. I want to stay in the moment, but the memory is dragging me back to that day. I remember seeing large caramel brown eyes and long brown curls that were only slightly more well behaved than I was used to seeing.

Dahlia looked haunted and scared shitless.

I called the store and asked the guard to detain her because there was a warrant for arrest, but she had disappeared. Now, I have her flagged to be detained. I should have had Lorrie do that from the beginning, I just didn’t really think there was a chance she would ever step inside Brighton’s buildings.

Maybe it was a bit shitty of me to flag her as a wanted person, but I need answers. Bee and I deserve them as to why she never looked for us.

I was so pissed off at myself and ashamed, I didn’t tell Bronwyn about it. I should have told her immediately, but it’s been over two months since it happened.

“How are we getting in here again?” Bronwyn asks, looking up at the warehouse as I lock the truck and begin walking toward the front door.

“We’re special guests tonight,” I remind her, using my key to open the heavy door. “Now, we’re just going to take a little ride in the elevator, beautiful.”

Holding onto her hand, I can see her pupils are blown with anticipation and excitement. Bronwyn is also wearing the butt plug I’ve been teasing her about whenever possible. It was waiting for her beside the outfit she laid out for herself to wear.

I never fucking bluff. It’s too much fun to follow through.

“This thing is moving inside of me as I walk,” she gasps, eyes wide as she walks in her high heels through the elevator doors. I only look away from her for enough time to swipe my keycard to ensure it accepts that my arrival is legit.

Bronwyn is wearing a hunter-green dress made of lace that shows off her milky skin. It teases my eyes and makes my cock harden as I gaze at her, pushing the elevator button to head down.

“Wait till I turn it on,” I growl, biting my fist as I think about the remote in my pocket. “Goddamn, you look good enough to eat and worship between your thighs, baby girl.”

Shivering, she gazes up at me. Even in her high heels, she is so much shorter than I am. Her coat is open around her, making me want to shove it off and fuck her against the wall. I’ve been talking dirty about watching Bee fuck another girl while I watch, because I really do want her to feel fulfilled and happy.

I don’t think this will go any further than this weekend, unless she feels a connection with the girl. I’m having a difficult time imagining that I’ll want to join them, though I’m not against fucking Bee while she’s enjoying herself.

Tonight is about seeing what happens, and throwing caution to the wind.

As the elevator doors open, there’s someone waiting to take my key and lead us to our seats. The inside of the club looks so different from the plain outside of the warehouse. Everything is upscale and beautiful, the female wait staff is dressed similarly in purple boyshort panties, matching bras, and heels escorting people to their seats.

There’s music playing, a bar set up, and it all feels very legitimate despite the fact that they are selling men and women for money.

What makes someone decide to do this?

It makes me think about the shit that people are thrown on a daily basis, forcing them to claw their way through their day. Bee sees so much of it at her job at the Keller Crisis Center, and she told me about a girl she spoke to a few months ago who said she called to talk to someone because she has no one else.

Sitting next to Bee, we both decline to go to the bar to get drinks, wanting to keep our wits about us. The tablet sitting in front of us has our banking details loaded into it, and will be where we’ll be bidding from.

Once the auction begins, we’re supposed to be silent for the most part, but I’m sure whispers will be fine. This is being run as a respectable business, I think they don’t want people screaming or whooping.

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