Highest Bidder Collection

by Lauren Landish

  And there’s no sense in making things worse.

  Our session for tonight is over.

  Chapter 8

  Joseph

  Lilly’s gone for the night. And yet again, I feel as though I’ve scared her off.

  It’s my own damn fault, I’m still in shock.

  I knew there was an innocence about her; I assumed it was because this lifestyle was new to her. But when my fingers slipped into her tight cunt even deeper, I felt her hymen. I couldn’t believe it. How could she keep something like that from me? The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.

  I stare at the lush carpet as a couple passes me in the halls of Club X, remembering that look on her face. Scared and vulnerable… and raw. She was completely at my mercy in every way.

  No wonder she’s taking this so slow.

  This should ward me off of her. I should stay away for her own good. No matter how much she wants this, the mere fact that she’s a virgin is going to make what would be an erotic exploration into something emotional. I’m not an idiot. I won’t be fooled by the notion that she knows better. If I take this from her, there will be an attachment that can’t be undone.

  It makes me even more of an asshole that that only fuels my desire to take her. I fucking wanted her right then and there. The moment I realized. I’m damn proud of my restraint, but my reaction made her run away… again. She’ll come back. I won’t let her slip through my fingers. Not that easily.

  “Kiersten,” I call out to her as she walks through the main hall of Club X.

  Her heels are muted on the carpet and her eyes whip up to me as she purses her lips and searches the empty hall.

  “Quiet!” she snaps in a hushed voice, scowling at me and gripping my arm to pull me aside to a darkened corner. It’s comical that the sweet little woman thinks she can pull me around, but I let her. After all, she’s been a close friend of mine for a lifetime, and at this point, she’s the only person I trust.

  “That’s not my name here.” Her voice is low and her eyes dart down the hall again, but it’s empty. The theme night has nearly everyone in the dining hall.

  A chill goes through my blood. I forget sometimes. “I’m sorry… Madam Lynn,” I give her a small smile and she purses her lips, but I know she’s not angry with me. She’s too forgiving.

  “What is it that you want?” she asks, crossing her arms and cocking a brow. I resist the urge to smirk at her. Here she’s in control, the Madame of the house. But I know her too well to look at her the way the other members do.

  “I wanted to make a submissive an offer,” I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from hers for a moment. When I look back confusion is etched on her face, so I continue, “Outside of the auction.”

  “Oh!” her posture relaxes slightly although she remains skeptical. “And what offer is that?”

  “A monthly contract outside of the club. I’m willing to split the fees of course. I’m simply not interested in the charade of the auction.” I try to make my stance and voice casual, but the reality is that I don’t want my flower coming back here. Not until we both know she belongs to me and every person in this club knows to stay far away from her.

  Kiersten raises her brow and I add, “no offense.” I don’t at all mind giving the submissive whatever amount she desires and the club the same. The money goes towards the women’s shelters. It’s a good cause I already donate to. For the same reason Kiersten’s chosen it.

  It’s not about the money. It’s about ensuring that I’ll get exactly what I want.

  I’ve been wanting to take her away from here. I don’t have an interest in engaging in activities here, but I want her. I want to break her. That sweetness about her, I crave it. But I covet her tears of desire more. I see the way her back arched as the braided tails of the whip smacked against her skin. The way she touched the marks with a reverence after being lashed. I could show her so much more. I could give her indescribable sensations, things she’s never dreamed of. And I want to.

  All in time, but not here. She’s taking things slowly and going under the radar. I need to take her away now.

  “May I ask who?” Kiersten asks with a teasing smile on her lips. She knows exactly who. She’s going to take credit for this, I know she will.

  “Lilly.” My flower.

  “I’m sorry Joseph, but the rules are in place for a reason, and Lilly is still finding her limits.” Kiersten looks as though she’s ready to leave, and if it were anyone else, I’m sure she would. But it’s me. So she rocks on her heels, waiting for my response.

  I know Lilly is still learning, but she can handle everything I want to give her. She’s perfect.

  I clench my fists, hating that I’m living by these sets of rules.

  Since when did my life revolve around the commands of others?

  I’ve lived my life making demands and seeing that they’re met. I’ve murdered, committed crime after crime and lived a life without consequence. I have more power than any man in this room. More wealth.

  I do whatever the fuck I want, when I want it.

  But in the last few years, I’ve simply been biding my time in this empty world I’m living in. I don’t feel at all like the man I used to be.

  It’s time for a distraction. And Lilly is the perfect candidate.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I hear Kiersten’s soft voice, laced with sympathy. “I know you’re hurting Joseph,” she says just beneath her breath.

  I scoff at her. “This has nothing to do with that.”

  “If you want Lilly, you can approach her and ask to be her Master, although I’m not sure she’s ready. If she goes up for auction, you may claim her that way as well. But there will be no deals outside of that.” Her voice is strong although her face is an expression of compassion. I hate it. I hate that she knows me better than I know myself.

  A couple’s footsteps echo in the hall as she speaks. I concentrate on the patter of the submissive’s bare feet and clacking of her partner’s shoes. I’m sick of being here. Surrounded by other people I don’t give a fuck about. I want Lilly where she belongs. In my home, in my bed, in her cage when she forgets to call me “Sir”.

  “Joseph?”

  My eyes snap to Kiersten’s, her soft voice bringing me back to the moment.

  “Are you sure you should be taking a slave? Outside of the club, that is?”

  My heart sputters in my chest and my blood runs cold. I know why she’s asking. But I’m tired of waiting and living in this limbo. I’m done living by their rules. I’ve never known anything other than the environment I’ve grown up in, but that doesn’t mean I can’t care for Lilly. I know I can.

  “I’m certain.” My words don’t convince her, and I know Kiersten’s unhappy, but I don’t care.

  I want Lilly.

  And I’m going to take her.

  I’m going to own her.

  Chapter 9

  Lilly

  I blow my bangs out of my eyes with a sad sigh as I go through my emails and work documents. I’m trying to make sure that my lesson plans are ready for my new students. My heart breaks when I think about them. They’re just middle schoolers, but they’ve already been through so much. I’ve read over each and every one of their files and I can’t believe what they’ve lived through at such a young age. Some of the kids already have a record, some of them coming from families so abusive that it makes me wish that I could take these kids away from their shitty parents.

  My pen taps on the desk as I go through each study plan, making sure that they all draw from everything I’ve learned in these classes. I try to make them as perfect as possible for the kids, hoping that they’ll take something from it that helps them. If it can even change one student’s life, it will make me happy. I want each and every child to have a chance at a good life, no matter how hard their upbringing, no matter how terrible their circumstances. Just like I did.

  A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I twist in my s
eat, looking at the door and wondering who it could be. I’m new in this city and I don’t really have any friends other than classmates, but all of them are busy right now, most of them home for the winter break. I know it can’t be one of them at my door. No one here even knows where I live. It’s probably a package or a neighbor I think as I scoot the chair from the desk.

  It makes me wish I was home with my family. But I only have my father, and now that he’s remarried, we’ve lost touch. I know he still loves me, and I still love him, but I don’t want to intrude on his new relationship and family. My birthday’s coming up soon and I know he’ll be thinking about me. I smile at the thought. He always manages to send me something nice and sweet. Something from the heart.

  I at least need to call him, to let him know I’m doing fine.

  I make a mental note to give him a ring as I open the front door. There’s a white box with an elegant bow on top sitting on the ground outside.

  Sir? My heart does a backflip and the small smile grows on my face. It can only be him.

  Arching a brow and sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to keep the smile from growing, I pick it up and bring it inside to the kitchen table.

  I can’t wait to open it. He’s been all I can think about, although my thoughts have been a confusing mix with bundles of nerves and insecurities. I suck in a breath when I open it and see what’s inside.

  Several white roses setting and a smartphone with a platinum cover on it. My heart pounds in my chest as I pick it up out of the box, examining the high quality finish. A phone? He could have just asked for my number! I shake my head at the thought, but my heart won’t stop beating erratically and my head won’t stop shaking.

  I place my fingers against my throat as I stare at the sparkling phone. I’m not sure why he would get me a phone. It’s gorgeous, and more than what I could ever hope for or afford, but I already have one. It seems like such an awful waste of money, even for someone that is rich.

  I’m shocked that Sir got me this and sent me flowers, especially after the way we left things yesterday, with me turning him down. I wasn’t sure he’d want to see me again. I thought I’d ruined it all.

  Maybe there’s something really there. God, my heart. I stare down at the roses, gently petting the petals and inhaling their floral scent.

  I’m about to close the box, when I notice a note at the bottom with a phone number and several words scribbled on it in a smooth font, a masculine one. It’s definitely his writing

  If you need me, you can reach me here.

  Sir.

  My breath quickens as I stare at the words, my pulse racing inside of my chest and my knees going a little weak. I know that I should just box this and put it away, that this may have gone a little bit too far. But I want more.... of whatever this is. I hate it. It feels like I’m getting ahead of myself, like I’m running straight into trouble. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. I’m always the one to send them away, not wanting them to get too close to me.

  But this isn’t like that, is it? I want him to get close. I’m practically haunted by the thought of him taking me against the cross. He could have. I was bound and there for him. The very thought sends shivers down my back.

  Whatever this is between me and Sir, doesn’t have to be anything more than what I want it to be. It can just be the fantasy that I’ve always wanted to explore. It doesn’t have to go any further than that. It doesn’t have to be real. … although I’m starting to think I want more than a fantasy.

  The air fills with the ringtone on my real cell, going off across the room and pulling me out of my thoughts.

  I set the note down and walk back to my desk trying to calm the mix of emotions as I answer the phone absentmindedly.

  ‘“Hello?”

  “Miss Wade?” A woman asks on the other end.

  “Yes?” I furrow my brow, wondering what this could be about.

  “This is Sarah Parker with Park and Recreations.”

  My heart drops in my chest as I realize this is about Zach. That’s the only explanation. I pulled every string I could to get his public service moved. I lean slightly against the chair, my hand resting on the back as I lower myself down into the seat. “Yes?” I ask again cautiously.

  “I’m calling because Zach White didn’t show up for his service today. And he had you listed as his contact.” I nod my head, my throat closing and my eyes shut tight.

  “Oh,” I finally manage to say, disappointment lacing my words.

  There’s a slight pause before the woman continues. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to have to give a call to his parole officer.”

  Anger rips my chest as I force out my words. “Okay thank you. I’ll try to get a hold of him.” I’m so pissed at him. I’m upset, but more than anything, I’m angry. Why couldn’t he just do this? Why?

  “I’m sorry. You have a nice day.”

  “You too.” I say as the line goes dead.

  Feeling the hurt spread through my chest, I turn in my seat and face the laptop. I need to email Zach and try to talk some sense into this boy’s head. It really pisses me off that he wasn’t there today. I thought he was really going to try. He told me he would. He told me he was grateful. Some gratitude.

  Muttering angrily under my breath, I open my inbox, but before I can start drafting an email, I see a message pop up..

  To: Ms Wade

  From: Zach White

  Hey don’t be mad at me

  I know ur gonna be pissed at me and think I’m lying but i wasnt able 2 show up to my community service because I cut my hand really bad and ended up in the hospital. Then I went home and caught a fever. If you can call my parole officer and tell him what’s up? My cell doesn’t work and the land line is dead.

  Thank u

  Zach

  “Oh Zach how I want to murder you,” I practically growl as I finish reading his message. I’m not sure that I even believe him. I grit my teeth, trying to decide what the right move to make is. I remember the way he was in class. The way he tried. He was honest to me then. I nod my head, remembering the days where he really put forth effort. He is a good kid. I know he is. I’m going to call his parole officer and try to smooth things over.

  I pick up my cell and dial the officer’s number. No one answers, but I leave a message on the voicemail, stating that Zach is going through some things right now and if the officer can please bear with him and not come down too hard on him. He’ll be there next time.

  I let out a frustrated sigh when I hang up the phone, wondering what I should do. After a moment, I mutter, “Fuck it,” grab my coat, and walk out the door. I need to check on Zach. I slam the door shut behind me. I shouldn’t go there, this is a job for his parole officer. But I need to really talk some sense into him. And see if he’s lying to me and playing me for a fool.

  Anxiety grips my stomach as I roll through the seedy neighborhood, the dilapidated houses making my skin crawl. I don’t ever like coming to the south side of town. It’s known for it’s gangs, drugs, violence and prostitutes. I only come this way if I have to. Or if I care so much about a person that I’m willing to risk my personal safety, like now.

  Damn it, Zach, I growl inwardly, trying to calm my frayed nerves.

  After passing several run down townhouses, I turn a corner onto the street Zach lives on, my palms clammy as hell as I grip the steering wheel, my eyes darting around like a cat, looking for any sign of danger. I relax a little after I pass several residences that have decent lawns. The houses look a little better on this street, but I still wouldn’t want to be caught walking here after dark.

  I ride past several more slightly beat up houses until I see a crowd of kids standing just outside a gated two-story stucco house. I spot Zach almost immediately, his tall figure and platinum blonde hair standing out like a sore thumb. They’re all out there laughing, some of them smoking weed, while others twist around on skateboards on the cracked concrete. Anger w
ashes over me as I watch Zach laugh at a joke one of the kids cracks as he huffs out a large cloud of smoke from his lips. Both hands visible. He cut his hand so fucking bad that he had to go to the hospital, but doesn’t need a bandage? Yeah, okay. Tears prick my eyes, but I hold onto the anger.

  I grip the steering wheel tightly, gritting my teeth as it hits me. He lied to me. I knew he probably wasn’t telling the truth, but seeing it confirmed before my eyes makes my blood boil.

  A part of me wants to jump out of the car and drag him to community service. But he has his own car and I know he can take himself. He obviously just didn’t want to.

  I roll up alongside the crowd and several heads turn towards my way, including Zach’s. I give him a look as he spots me, letting him know how much he’s pissed me off. He stares back at me for a moment, but makes no move to come towards me. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, waiting, hoping he will. I’m giving him a chance to come over, apologize and explain himself. To make things right.

  But to my absolute surprise, he turns his back to me, pretending as if I’m not even there.

  “Zach!” I call out to him and he pauses in his step for a moment, but keeps going.

  Shocked, I watch as he walks off with the group of kids, one of them even pointing at me and making some sort of joke that causes Zach to burst out into laughter.

  Anger and hurt twist my chest as I watch them walk away, being rowdy and unruly. I know he may not want to seem uncool in front of his friends, but I can’t believe Zach would do this. This isn’t the kid I know.

  I don’t know what to do. I want to help this boy, but you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. That’s what’s so hard about this job. It’s not easy to turn someone’s life around. You can give them the best advice in the world, but if they don’t listen or take the initiative, there’s nothing you can do.