Chapter 5

5

Dmitri

F uck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Leah

The lights flickering in my apartment windows tell me that Mick is still awake. I wish he wasn’t—it would be better if I could sneak in without facing him. I’m not ashamed of what I enjoyed at Low Vice, but tonight’s fun has definitely called into question my feelings for Mick. I don’t love him like I once did.

I tell myself that nothing has to change, but that’s a lie.

Something has already changed.

At the last second before I unlock the apartment door, I remember to unfasten the collar from my throat. I also lift up the hem of my shirt to remove the belly chain. I stuff both pieces of jewelry into my coat pocket.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and step from the dim hallway into the apartment.

The digital sounds of gunfire fill the tiny living room. Strobe effects from the game on Mick’s large computer screen momentarily blind me. I quickly pick my way across the living room, dodging a day-old pizza box that I refuse to pick up for him, and several dirty articles of clothing. When did my boyfriend turn into such a slob?

Maybe he’s always been this way.

Even his physical appearance is a turn-off. I used to like his baggy T-shirts and casual appearance, but that’s his only setting. Even when he says he’s “making an effort,” he’s usually wearing a shirt with a hole in it, paired with a ratty pair of athletic shorts. He showers, but rarely washes his dark brown hair until it gets a greasy, oily sheen.

It wasn’t always like this. When we first started dating, he made more of an effort. Now he seems to have other priorities…and I’m not among them.

Mick twists around in his chair. He isn’t even playing, he’s watching someone else’s stream.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks.

I pause in the doorway of our bedroom. “What?”

“I said, where the fuck have you been? Are you cheating on me, Leah?”

I want to laugh as much as I want to cry. “How could I cheat on you? We have an open relationship, by your request.”

“Open on my side.” His lip curls in disgust. “Have you been whoring around?”

Okay, that’s it. I’ve taken a lot of Mick’s shit over the past two years, but this is the last straw. Two last straws, really. First, there’s the lie he just told about our relationship—I agreed to an open relationship if it applied to both of us, not just him. Not that I’d had much interest at the time in pursuing it, but still. That had been my condition.

And the second straw is using the word whore in a derogatory way, as a slur. I’m not okay with that. I never have been, and I never will be.

It’s fucking over.

Not only because of everything that happened tonight. In fact, even if I hadn’t enjoyed a mind-blowing orgasm at the hands of Dmitri and Gage, it would be over with Mick.

My mind whirls rapidly over the next steps. This crappy apartment is a month-to-month. I’d hated the month-to-month lease at the beginning because it meant fewer protections as a renter, but now I see the situation for the gift it is. I can walk away now. I just paid rent, but I’ll take that loss—after that auction, I can afford it.

“Well? What the fuck do you have to say for yourself?” Spittle flies from his mouth and his blue eyes are…there’s no other word for it. They’re empty.

A confrontation tonight will not go well. I’ve never seen him so angry.

For the first time, I’m actually a little scared of him.

I have to lie.

“Sorry, I was out with Danica,” I say. “I fell asleep at her place, that’s why I didn’t call. I’m not whoring around, Mick. You know me better than that, come on. Take me to bed so we can make up?”

I have to repress a shudder at the very thought of “making up.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to touch you tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” I try to look hurt instead of relieved. Thank fuck. I don’t want his hands on me.

I hurry to the bedroom and put on a long-sleeved shirt and pajama pants. There aren’t enough clothes in the world to make me feel safe right now. The noises from his computer are the only thing reassuring me—as long as he’s watching or playing something, he won’t come in here and I won’t have to worry.

Gage

She didn’t recognize me. Even when she called me Gage, the name still didn’t register. I thought I saw a spark of recognition in her eyes, but she quickly seemed to decide either she was mistaken, or it wasn’t important.

It made the scene better, I think. Her not knowing.

Dmitri Montrose knows. Like everyone else who works at Low Vice, he signed a nondisclosure agreement.

I watched from the door to make sure Leah safely got into her car and drove away.

Now I’m back in my office wearing clean pants. My cock is still hard, insisting on the release that I refuse to give myself until I’m in the privacy of my own home. I’ll have a lot to jerk off to. Leah and Dmitri were stunning together.

All is quiet in my black wood-paneled office save the hum of my computer. Black-and-white photos adorn the walls. I didn’t choose them; they’re part of the club’s aesthetic. I don’t mind them, either. One image, a close-up of a beaded collar dangling between cleavage, reminds me of Leah.

I transfer sixty thousand dollars from my personal account to the club, with the note Auction - Miss L . Not five minutes later, Betty knocks on the edge of my open door.

“It was fifty grand, Gage,” she says, “not sixty.”

“It’s a tip. Split the extra between Miss L and the boy.”

She snorts. “He has a name. He works here.”

“Yeah, I recognized him.”

Instead of wandering off, she says, “I was surprised you joined the bidding. Usually you just sit and watch.”

I always sit and watch the auction take place. I like watching the play of nerves on the faces of those on the block. I like watching the dynamic between different bidders, seeing what excites them. I’ve joined in bidding once or twice, mostly to stir up a sense of competition. I always put down my bid card before winning.

But tonight, something about the girl’s defiant lust got to me. And then something about that poor boy trying to gallantly “save” her pissed me off. I wanted to watch him defile her instead.

I must admit to myself, the experience was extremely satisfactory.

If Leah contacts me, I fully plan on doing something similar again. I toy with the idea of inviting another man, but Dmitri’s subtle anger and repressed lust made everything more thrilling. I might insist on his participation.

There’s no question as to whether he would be willing. I saw the way he looked at the girl—he wouldn’t be able to resist.

I say farewell to Betty and leave the office, knocking on Margot’s door to wish her goodbye, as well. Everyone knows Margot owns Vice and Low Vice. Almost nobody knows that she has two secret partners. I am one, and Betty is the other.

The sun is rising by the time I reach my penthouse. I shut the door behind me and exhale, surveying the open floor plan— living room to one side, kitchen and dining room at the other. Large windows overlooking San Esteban.

I cross the living room to the hallway, entering my bedroom. Here, the giant picture windows are covered with light-blocking blinds. It’s dark, cool. Peaceful. Private.

Shedding my clothes and setting my glasses carefully on the nightstand, I fall onto my bed fully nude. I take my cock in hand, imagining the way that beautiful girl rubbed her sweet cunt back and forth over my thigh. How desperate she was, how agonized by her lust. Her bright blue eyes had flecks of amber near the pupil, and those eyes widened in surprise whenever she met Dmitri’s gaze.

She didn’t seem to think herself worthy of his attention, but she didn’t seem to have issues with self-confidence otherwise.

It takes a strong person to get up on the auction stage. Brave, too.

And when some degenerate requested that she remove her underwear and pass them around…fuck, that reminds me.

Getting up, I grab those black panties from my suit pocket. Much better. I use them to tease my cock, rubbing the silky fabric over the head, imagining her silky lips there, teasing me. I drive myself half-mad, remembering how I denied her orgasm for the longest time while she sucked Dmitri’s cock. My lust builds and builds. I picture her face, twisted in pleasure when she finally found her release.

And when I finally allow myself to come, I can’t help but exhale her name.

“Leah .”

Leah

Two days have gone by since the auction at Low Vice. I sit at my kitchen table, proofreading an essay. It’s hard to concentrate, though. I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about Gage, about Dmitri, about everything we did. It was so freaking hot, I’ll take those memories to the grave.

Gage’s business card and the collar and belly chain are still hidden away in my coat pocket. The couple of times I’ve gone out since the auction, I’ve found myself touching the card’s crisp edges as often as I touch the jewelry. Their presence brings me an extra sense of peace.

In the afternoon, Mick gets up from the couch and stretches. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me. I have a date.”

I should’ve guessed—the only time he washes his hair is when he’s going out.

“Have fun,” I say from where I was working at the kitchen table. I don’t give two shits about his dates.

He squints at me.

Acting like I don’t care is probably not the right call, so I add, “Well, we should go out sometime, too. We haven’t been on a date in a while.”

“Yeah, sure.” He grabs his keys and is gone.

I save the essay I was proofreading. My tutoring work lately has been sparse, so I was glad to get this student. She’s a challenge, though. It’s pretty clear she doesn’t know what she’s talking about—she wouldn’t know Shakespeare from Virginia Woolf. I make a note to schedule a video call with her later.

Then, I pick up my phone and text Danica. It’s time.

I’m bringing Dmitri , she writes back.