Page 18

Vivian

I checked my appearance in the mirror one last time, then put on the biometrics bracelet the club mandated I wear when I spent the weekend with Jeff and waited by the window.

Finally, the familiar black town car pulled in front of my rundown apartment building.

It looked so out of place there, and frankly, I didn’t want my neighbors to know it was me getting picked up, lest they think my apartment had something worth robbing while I was gone for the weekend.

So, I grabbed my purse and the bag I’d packed and hurried out the door.

The waiting driver was Tom, the one who’d driven us to Jeff’s place on Friday after the auction. He smirked when he opened my door. “Going back for more, eh?”

“Seems that way,” I said coolly as I slid in the backseat, leaving my bag outside for him to deal with.

For a second, I panicked and thought he was going to drive away and leave it sitting at the curb, but I heard the trunk open then close before he slid behind the wheel.

I noticed him watching me through the rearview mirror, so I took out my phone to have something to look at besides him. I really didn’t want to have a conversation. My nerves were rattled and I wanted to try and settle down on the drive.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

I offered him a polite smile. “Thanks.”

I hoped Jeff thought so, too. I’d taken great care getting ready, so he’d approve of my appearance. Of course, I’d cursed myself that I even gave a damn what he thought.

But I did.

I hadn’t even packed panties this time and had even bought some crotchless black lingerie at Walmart that I thought he might like. I’d also picked up some cute dresses that were on sale.

Tom kept looking back, and I realized he was trying to look under my dress.

I really wanted to find that button that brought the divider up.

“How much do you make, anyway?”

I decided to play dumb when I looked back at him in the mirror.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You don’t have to give me an exact number, just a ballpark. Maybe I could get a few of my friends together and we could come up with enough to buy you for a night. I bet you’re a wild little thing.”

Not in a million years, buddy.

I gave him a saccharine smile.

“Sixty thousand.”

“Bullshit.”

I cocked my head, and he continued. “You live in a dump. No way do you make sixty grand a trick.”

I shrugged. “Wanna bet?”

He drove a little before he mumbled, “I hope he’s getting his money’s worth.”

Oh, he is.

My heartrate picked up when the car turned into Jeff’s neighborhood. Was I actually excited to see him?

I hated to admit it, but yeah, I was.

I didn’t like how we’d left things on Sunday and hoped he didn’t hold a grudge.

We started up the winding drive, and I willed myself to take a deep breath as I fidgeted with my collar.

The car rolled to a stop in Jeff’s driveway, and Tom got out to grab my bag from the trunk. I reached for the door handle, but he was already there, opening the back door like he thought he was being chivalrous instead of doing his job.

As I stepped out, he leaned in and said, “Let me know your bottom-line price. I’ll see how much I can scrape together.”

I scoffed, then froze when I saw the front door fly open.

Jeff stood in the entryway, one hand braced on the frame, the other hanging loose at his side, except his fingers flexed like he was imagining them around someone’s throat.

His voice cut across the drive, cold and lethal. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

****

Jeff

I’d been watching the driveway feed, phone in hand, waiting to make sure the car arrived without issue. That was the excuse, anyway. Truth was, I wanted to see her the moment she stepped out.

And when she did, fuck me.

Her hair was down, legs bare beneath a short, black dress, and her collar fastened perfectly in place. She looked stunning. My cock twitched just looking at her.

Then the driver leaned in and said something.

I tapped the volume.

“…Let me know your bottom-line price. I’ll see how much I can scrape together.”

My vision went red, and I threw open the front door and stalked down the steps.

“What the fuck did you just say to her?”

Tom turned, startled. “Sir, I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He took a step back. “It was a joke.”

“You think I’m laughing?”

Vivian stood frozen beside the car, lips parted in shock. I didn’t even look at her. All my fury was aimed at the asshole who thought he could talk to her like that.

His mouth opened like he was going to argue, but one look must’ve told him better. He climbed into the driver’s seat, and I leaned down so only he could hear.

“If you ever speak to her like that again, I will break your fucking jaw and make sure you’re blackballed from every private client in the state. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Drive. And don’t come back.”

Tom pulled away slowly, eyes on the rearview mirror the whole time. I didn’t move until the car turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Then I turned to her.

She didn’t speak. Just stared like she wasn’t sure what to say.

Hell, I wasn’t either.

She looked too good, dammit. That tight dress, that collar. I was happy to see her, and that pissed me off. I hated that I’d missed her. That some part of me had been counting down the days since she left.

This wasn’t supposed to matter.

“Get in the house,” I said, my jaw tight. “And for fuck’s sake, take off that damn dress.”

***

Vivian

That’s it? No, hello . No, you look nice . Just an order to get inside and strip.

The dress I’d picked out—tight in the waist, flared at the hips, long enough to be elegant but short enough to tempt —suddenly felt ridiculous.

I’d spent half the afternoon getting ready, curling my hair, redoing my makeup twice, standing in front of the mirror trying to guess what he’d want to see when I stepped out of the car.

Apparently, I’d guessed wrong.

“Nice to see you, too,” I snarked as I stepped past him, my heels clicking as I walked up the steps. The house smelled familiar when I walked through the door this time, and somehow that made it worse.

I’d wondered all week if he was going to pick up where we left off last Sunday, or if we were going to start anew. Apparently, he’d chosen the “hold a grudge” option.

The door shut behind him, and I stood there awkwardly with my bag in my hand, unsure what to do next.

Did I strip right there in the entry? Take off the dress that he clearly hated? Or should I retreat to the guest room to change?

Fuck it.

I dropped the bag and reached behind me to tug the zipper down, then slipped out of the arms and shimmied to get the form fitting dress past my hips.

I leaned down and retrieved it from my feet, then folded it over my arm, as if standing in his entryway in only heels, bra, and a collar was totally normal.

“I’m assuming I’ll be in the same room as last time?”

He didn’t say a word. Just took his sweet time to rake his gaze from my head to my toes and back again, his jaw tight the entire time. His eyes were unreadable except for the briefest flicker of something softer I couldn’t name.

“Guest room’s the same,” he finally said, his voice flat. “Put your bag away, then come find me. My cock needs servicing, whore.”

I didn’t argue. I knew my place. And the filthy way he reminded me lit a spark in my belly. My pussy was already wet, aching to be used.

My therapist was going to earn her paycheck in our next session.

****

Jeff

I watched her walk away with her hips swaying and that luscious ass I wanted to bite. Or ruin. Probably both.

Fuck.

She turned me on, there was no point pretending otherwise. But I needed to get a handle on it—on her .

Because the second I saw her step out of that car, every rational thought flew straight to hell. And I couldn’t afford that. Not with her.

She was supposed to be mine to control. Not the other way around.

I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t want her, but I still planned to remind her what this was—what she was.

Not my girlfriend. Not my partner.

Just a warm hole with manners that I owned for three more weeks. Last Sunday, she’d needed a reminder of that.

She was damn lucky she hadn’t been wearing panties when she stepped out of that dress just now. If she had, I would've ripped them off her and stuffed them in her mouth before I bent her over the stairs and fucked her ass without any lube.

She hadn’t said a word of protest when I told her my cock needed servicing. In fact, I could have sworn her pupils dilated a little.

Ah, I think sweet Vivian liked her role as my whore.

I liked it, too.

But what had concerned me this week was how much I’d thought about her , not just her holes.

I needed to get that shit under control. I didn’t get the happy ending unless I paid for it. And I was only paid up for three more weeks.

I’d barely settled at my desk in the den when she strutted in with no hesitation. Without a word, she walked across the room with her hips swaying as the ring of my collar jingled and caught the light.

I spun in my chair and unbuttoned my pants, then pulled my hard cock out. She sank to her knees between my legs and got to work without being told.

I leaned back in my chair as I fisted her hair and pushed her head down until she gagged.

“That’s it whore. Choke on that dick.”

Fuck.

It was good to be me.