Page 57 of Shared By the Highest Bidder

“Sir?” a woman’s voice answers.

“Water. Now.” I feel his arm moving, taking out of his wallet, I assume. “My... She can’t breathe.”

He doesn’t know what to call me.

What am I? I feel like I’m more than a paid plaything to him.

“You’re okay. Sweetheart, breathe.” He pats my back. “I’m here. You’re safe with me. I’m not going anywhere. There’s a chair over here. Let’s get you off this floor.”

Now there must be eyes on me as he steers me to a set of metal folding chairs near the printer station.

“Here you go. Juice is better,” the voice says. “The sugar helps.”

Emery opens the bottle. “Drink, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” I take it and sip the juice, gulping breaths in between.

“Talk to me, what’s going through your mind?” Emery crouches in front of me, his hands never leaving my legs.

“My parents died in a fire. Our home. I lost everything, just like now.”

“Oh God. Come here.” He hugs me. “I didn’t realize bringing you here would upset you.”

“I didn’t either.” I shake my head. “I’ve shopped for supplies before. It’s just that right now, I’m back towhere I started. With nothing.”

“You have a man who bought you for five hundred grand, sweetheart.” He pushes our foreheads together. “You have me.”

That makes me smile. After finishing the juice, my panic levels off.

“You’re incredible, Emery.”

“Just you wait, sweetheart. Can you stand? It’s good to get your blood moving.” He helps me up. “And I didn’t mean that you should live your whole life around a man. Having a daughter makes me see relationship imbalances much differently.”

There’s something positive about a much older single dad.

I’d still like a taste of Bad Emery.

I’m feeling much better by the time we reach the sketchbook aisle. It’s a sea of white and blue bands on the covers since Indigo only sells its own products.

Feeling that spark I got in my fingertips earlier with Victoria perks me up. My eyes scan the racks, concentrating on finding a smaller size pad. I’ll get back into sketching taking reduced-size bites.

I reach for a pad that feels familiar in my hands, the 9x12 top spiral bound.

“You look adorably excited.” Emery presses up against me, his nose breathing me in deeply.

“How would you know? You can’t see my face.”

“Yes, I can.” He points to a shiny plastic tag holder that shines back with our reflection. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Peace spreads through me at how good he and I look together.

“So are you.” I turn around, holding the sketchbook.

“Just one?” Emery looks down at it. “Get more. I’ll buy whatever you need.”

“This one is fine.”

“You’re fine.” His deep voice is as penetrating as I bet his cock is.

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