Page 41 of Saved By My Buyers

“Michigan is cold,” I say noncommittally. It may seem dumb, but reframing or filling the space with something that fits the response, helps keep the conversation.

“It was the summer, so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world,” she says. “I couldn’t stay in that house anymore. It was a nightmare.”

A tingle moves over my skin, and I feel hyper aware as I speak to her. There’s more than one person who’s ever had an awful home life when they were sixteen. She sounds completely different from Dahlia too.

“I’m glad you chose you,” I say instead. “At a certain point, it’s the only thing you can do.”

“Yeah? You think?” she asks. I can hear people talking around her, but it’s echoing. Is she in an alley? “I wonder about it all the time. I tried, I really did. He was going to kill me.”

Swallowing thickly, I nod, even though she can’t see me.

“You can only control your actions and no one else,” I say, subtly clearing my throat. “Why do you say you tried?”

“I left people,” she says. “Anyway, I have to jet. I have a shift.”

The phone goes dead as my heart pounds and I disconnect from the server. I’m done for the day, I have nothing else to give people. Signing out of the system completely, I alert my supervisor that I’m leaving for the day.

Sighing, I wonder if that could have been Dahlia before dismissing it. The sheer possibility of it is enough to make me lightheaded.

Forcing myself to take a deep, cleansing breath, I unlock my jaw and drop my head back. The walls of my cubicle are high enough that no one will be able to see me until they’re leaning over, so I can take my time to unclench my body before I leave.

Pulling on my coat, I stand and button it up. My mittens and scarf go on next before gathering my things and heading to the lounge to grab my lunch box. By the time I have everything, it’s almost eight fifteen at night.

Yawning, I trudge down the stairs and out of the building with a wave at the security guard. I secretly hate this walk to the parking garage.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I walk, and I pick it up without looking at it. While I have a few friends from school, only one person would be calling me right now. I'm still a little surprised by it, because I thought he would be finishing up drinks with his work client.

“Hello,” I answer, waiting for the light to change so I can cross the street.

“I seem to be having an aneurysm,” Jack says. “I know it’s been hours since we talked, but did you really say you parked on Ninth street?”

“Yes,” I say with a laugh, scurrying across the street as soon as the light changes, signaling it’s safe. At night, I swear it’s even shorter than normal, and I squeal as I run the last section before it changes, and traffic continues behind me.

“I fucking hate these lights.”

“I know you do,” he soothes. “I’m going to stay with you on the phone. I don’t know why I’m so damn slow on the uptake today. I would have picked you up from the Center to drive you back to the garage.”

“That’s just silly,” I counter, my short legs moving as quickly as possible. “You have a meeting. I love that you’re worried, but I’m really fine.”

“Nah, I told him my girl needed me to keep her company while she walked, and he said he appreciated that I’m a gentleman,” he says.

“Oh? Now I’m your girl?” I ask. See, the damn push and pull. It’s exhausting as fuck.

Jack growls under his breath that makes my pussy clench and whimper in need. God, is it wrong to want him? I’m so confused. I’m tired of not giving in. I need him to say something to take this decision out of my hands.

“You’re goddamn right you are,” he grunts. “Pay attention to your surroundings for me, Bronwyn. I need you home in one piece. No more talk about whether or not you’re mine. The past is the past. All we can do is move forward, okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper, stepping to the side to walk around a couple walking and chatting together. Ugh, one more street to go.

“I need to bring something up first,” he says, making me frown. What could he possibly want to ask me? “Outside of who it was, you are attracted to women, right? Fuck, this feels like a really probing question after I just went all caveman on you. You’re such a brat sometimes. I don’t know if I want to spank you or fuck you.”

“Both please,” I say, gulping in air. It has little to do with the fact that I can see the sign for the parking garage, and more to do with if I would like it if he spanked me. Based on how wet I am, I’d say that’s definitely on the table.

“I think I’m bisexual. There’s something about how soft a woman feels while you’re kissing her, and her little noises…”

We both know who I’m talking about, and if possible, Jack’s voice deepens.

“I want you to have everything you want,” he says. “There’s this event I was told about by someone, it may be fun to check out. You’d be able to explore that side of yourself, and I’ll be happy to watch. Fuck, my dick is hard just thinking about it.”

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