Page 100 of Saved By My Buyers

“I think knowing your options are good, especially if you want to get into the field without a doctorate degree,” he says. I must look confused, because he continues. “You would think that getting a psychology undergraduate or graduate degree would allow you to do some kind of counseling, but it doesn’t. Rather, a mental health counselor or social work degree will allow you to once licensed. Bee is digging through to see which option is better for her.”

“Hmm social work would allow you to also work in the community the way you have been, right?” I ask.

Nodding, Bee says, “It would give me a larger scope than just counseling, which I really like. I’m taking a gap year to apply, but did really well on the test I needed to take for grad school earlier this year. Now, I just need to weigh my options.”

“I’m going to get changed and text Sullivan with the plan,” he says, tapping us to get up. “I also have something I want you to wear, Dolly. I’ll get it.”

“I have clothes,” I remind him as he gets up and disappears. Blowing out a breath, I gaze at Bee for help, but she just giggles.

“I somehow don’t think it’s clothes, though you may want to change,” she says. I’m in a lounge set, and while it’s cute, she’s right. I probably shouldn’t wear this out to see a potential employer.

“Come explain while I change,” I grumble, walking to the room as I think about what I want to wear.

“I’ll help you find clothes, but explaining completely right now would ruin the surprise,” Bee teases me as she follows me. “You have a pretty navy jumpsuit that would work for this.”

Humming noncommittally, I still obediently find the outfit in my closet. It’s overflowing with clothing, while Jack and Bee share the larger closet in the other room.

Stripping, I change into the jumpsuit, glad that it has a built-in bra that holds my breasts. A pair of cream heels, quick spritz of my curls, my gray contacts, and I’m ready to go. I don’t really know how to apply makeup, nor do I have jewelry, so this is as good as I’m going to get.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Bee sighs, fluffing my hair as Jack comes in.

“Damn, from couch poet to glam girl in very little time,” he says. “You look stunning, Dolly.”

My cheeks heat at his words and I smile. He’s wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans and a white-button-up shirt that’s rolled up to show off his tattoos. The two tattoos he got for Bee and I are healing nicely as well.

Holding something up, he shows me an egg-like device, making me confused.

“This connects to a remote control in my pocket. You’re going to put this in your pretty, pink pussy, and this part here will press against your clit,” he explains, showing me where the toy extends to cup my clit.

My lips part in surprise as he smirks, and I shrug. Game fucking on. I won’t shrink away from a challenge.

“Jack is merciless,” Bee warns. “Just know you’ll probably come in a public place. Have fun!”

She leaves me standing in the room with a grinning Jack, who is pressing the toy into my hand.

“I am merciless,” he concedes. “I promise I won’t hinder your ability to get the job, baby.”

“Deal,” I murmur, wiggling the jumpsuit off to put it inside of me.

“Why are you not wearing a bra?” he groans.

“Built-in bra,” I explain, hissing at how cold it feels as I push the toy inside of me. I’m glad that I’m wearing panties just in case. I don’t trust the vibrator not to fall out. Fixing my panties back into place, I begin to pull my jumpsuit back on, moving slower as I watch Jack’s heated mismatched gaze follow the disappearing path of my skin.

“Fuck me, you’re killing me,” he says. “I’m going to tease you, spank you, and then fuck you tonight, baby girl. I hope you’re ready.”

Adjusting the straps of my jumpsuit, I shrug. “I’m learning I’m always ready when it comes to you,” I say.

Jack and Bee’s sexual appetites are voracious. I think we’ve fucked all over the apartment, and once Bee ate me out on the couch, while Jack fucked my face. I always want to be near them.

“Come on, little brat, before I decide to replace that toy with my cock,” he murmurs, hustling toward the door.

“That isn’t the threat you think it is,” I say with a giggle.

We both say goodbye to Bee, who is set up with her laptop on the couch, for her meeting with a toasted sandwich for dinner.

“We’re going to Torrento’s, so I’ll pick up a slice of lemon cake for you,” Jack says with a smile.

“Yum. That sounds wonderful, and worth missing Dahlia squirm,” she says wickedly.

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