Page 65 of Highest Bidder

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Sapphire shrugged. “Figured you’d want to know.”

Then she walked off, leaving me staring at my reflection. I didn’t know what to think, and there was only one way to find out for sure.

****

Jeff

The doorbell rang just after eight.

I wasn’t expecting anyone, although I dared to hope it’d be her when I opened the door.

And as if I’d conjured her up, there she was, standing on my doorstep in a hoodie, jeans, and tennis shoes, without a stitch of makeup on.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at me with her big, blue eyes. I wasn’t sure if she was about to punch me or kiss me. Instead, she slowly pulled something from her pocket. It was a white envelope. One that bore a bank name and contained something thick. I was pretty certain I knew what that was.

She held it out and finally, she spoke, her tone demanding when she asked, “Why did the club pay me? This isn’t mine, it’s yours.”

Ignoring the envelope, I leaned one shoulder against the frame, shook my head, and keeping my voice calm, said, “It’s yours. You earned it.”

Her expression showed her disagreement, eyes revealing the internal battle I was sure she was having with herself. The victor was determined as she shoved the envelope back into her pocket and though, she crossed her arms, her tone softened. “And Lorenzo? That debt my dad owed? Why did you pay him?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her. Her arms dropped, fingers fidgeting nervously in the front pocket of her hoodie as she stared back at me.

“You know why I did it.”

Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I need to hear you say it.”

I swallowed hard, then gave her the truth. “Because I love you. Because I wanted you to come back, but only if you were free. Only if you wanted to.”

For a second, I thought she might bolt. Her eyes glistened, and she looked down. Then she pulled something out of the same pocket where she’d just stashed the envelope—her collar.

“Am I still your whore?” she asked.

I stepped forward and gently took the jewelry from her and put it around her neck.

“Only if you want to be,” I murmured in her ear as I secured the clasp.

Her hand went to her neck, like she was double-checking it was on. “I do. But I want to be more than that.”

I cupped her face in my hands as I stared into her eyes.

“You are, baby. You’re not just mine on the weekends anymore. You’re mine. Period.”

She nodded her head as the first tear spilled down her cheek. “I want that, too.”

I gave her a wicked grin, grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her inside, and replied, “Good. Now get on your knees.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered as she dropped to the floor. “Yours.”

Epilogue

Three months later

Jeff

We didn’t come here for the sex.

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