Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Jack

I ’m in my office working so I can leave earlier than normal. Bronwyn has a late class, and she’s been a little twitchy about walking to her car recently. She hasn’t necessarily said it, but there were shadows in her eyes when she left for school after her encounter in the parking garage last week.

We’re also going to formally apply for the auction today so we can put in a bid for a female playmate for Bronwyn at Club Lust in May. The two of us have been on a bit of a roller coaster the last few years, and I meant it when I said that I wanted to move on.

What happened with Dahlia was traumatic, but I probably shouldn’t be thinking about her large caramel eyes or how wild her curls always were.

It’s wrong, despite my relationship with Bronwyn. I haven’t known her her entire life the way I knew Dahlia, and I can’t imagine dating anyone else. It’s time to close the door on it all and lock it away.

“Hey, got a minute for me?” Lorrie asks. She does the computer systems for our security teams, wires for clients, and also makes them hack proof. There are people in the world who could go either way when deciding to use their skill for good or evil, and she’s definitely one of those people.

“Absolutely,” I say, finishing off a sentence for a proposal I’m working on. “What’s up?”

“The new client that you’re working on, that you went for drinks with. He wants visual feedback for everyone who wants into his building, right?” she asks. Basically, there would be a scan of everyone who went there, and then it would search for any known warrants or criminal records.

He owns a chain of department stores that have suffered from theft lately, and wants to find a way to be proactive.

“Yes, that’s what he asked for,” I say with a nod, leaning forward. My shirtsleeves are rolled up as they often are when I’m working, but her eyes don’t stray from my gaze. She’s very excited about whatever it is that she’s thinking about, because usually pretty dragon ink will catch her eye for at least a second.

“What if I encode a tiny piece of encryption to also look out for the girl you’ve been having me look for?” she asks expectantly. “Would that be awful?”

My lips twitch because I’m surprised that she’s asking at all. “Not awful at all,” I admit. I know I said I was closing the door, but maybe this one little encryption wouldn’t be awful. “Yeah, drop it into the coding, please. I’m going to finish this proposal and then I’m taking off.”

Glancing at the time, she nods. It’s already after seven, and most people have already knocked off work. Since I have several deadlines approaching, I’ve been staying later to get it all done.

“Sounds good,” she says with a nod. My team of five refuses to leave for the day before I do, insisting that there’s always more to finish. This is why I surprise them with bonuses whenever I can. They’re more productive than the rest of the company by far, and my business partners are always floored by it.

It’s hard to find hardworking and loyal team members.

Finishing up the proposal once she leaves, I grab my suit jacket and coat, shrugging them on. There’s wicked snow drifts falling outside, making me crinkle my nose in disgust.

Detroit’s educational districts refuse to call snow days for shits and giggles, and Bronwyn’s school is just as bad. Her professor did say he wasn’t happy to be in this weather.

Hoping he doesn’t release them early because I don’t want to miss her, I wind my scarf around my face and tug on my warm leather gloves. Time to get the fuck out of here.

My keys jingle in my hand as I stride out of the office, locking up behind me. Due to the sensitive nature of our jobs, we all make sure to power down our computers when we leave and lock everything up.

The last thing we want is a break-in when our job is to make sure everyone’s information is protected.

The last one to leave turns on the security system, and we also have a human guard who protects the floor outside of our offices. Between all of that and the video cameras, our floor is very secure. We don’t fuck around.

Once I’m in the truck, I call Bronwyn to see if she’s out of class yet. She always has her phone on silent, so I’m not worried about it ringing. She doesn’t answer, helping me relax as I drive through the city to her school.

She doesn’t know that I’m on my way, so I call her again as soon as the clock hits nine.

“ Hey, Jack. I’m walking out of class now ,” she says, and I can hear the door slam behind her.

“Good, what parking lot are you in?” I ask, driving toward the building her class is in.

“ Lot D. I was running late again ,” she sighs.

“That’s across campus, baby,” I grunt, seeing her on the sidewalk in the cold. “Get in, I’m pulling up alongside you now.”

Turning, I see her smile peeking over her scarf. Her red hair is underneath the hood of her heavy winter jacket, curling wildly in the cold. It reminds me a lot of how Dahlia’s hair was.

Bronwyn clambers up into the truck, shivering as she slides into the seat.

“Thank you,” she says. Tucking her phone into her backpack, she drops it on the floor. “I wasn’t looking forward to that walk. What made you decide to come get me?”

Rolling my eyes at her in amusement, I drop my phone in the cup holder as she closes the door.

“It’s snowing, Bronwyn, and I was worried,” I tell her. “Be prepared to be a passenger princess the rest of the winter. I think I’m going to drive you around the city to school and work.”

“But what about your work?” she asks, pulling on her seatbelt. “That’s the entire point of buying me a car.”

No, I wanted her to be able to be independent and learn how to drive. It was never because I didn’t want to do it for her.

“We’re going to agree to disagree there,” I murmur, pulling away from the curb. “The weather is ridiculous, and I’d rather drop you off than have you driving in it or hiking through it.”

“It’s Michigan,” she says with a giggle. “What else am I supposed to do in this weather?”

“Accept that I’m going to rearrange my schedule so I’m not worrying about you?” I ask, even though it’s exactly what I want her to do. She may have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth between her grandfather's money and Gareth’s, but she’s never acted spoiled in the entire time that I’ve known her.

“Jack, that’s really sweet, but this feels like a big commitment on your part,” she sighs.

Pulling in next to her car in the lot, I turn to face her. “The last time I ignored my instincts, the worst happened,” I remind her. The pinched pain in her eyes makes me release her seatbelt, pulling her into my lap.

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. We’ve been living together for awhile, and we agreed we’d move forward with our feelings, complicated as they are.”

“So more than only sleeping together when we’re drunk and depressed,” Bronwyn murmurs with a small smirk.

“Yes, because you’re a gorgeous, kind woman, who deserves more. I’m not honorable enough to let you go, so I’m yours,” I say seriously. “Being that, I should tell you that the hacker on my team asked if she could add an encryption code into the security system to search for Dahlia. My client has a series of department stores that he owns, which means a lot of people go through there.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” she asks, but straightens to show that she doesn’t care about legalities.

“I rarely follow the law when it comes to Dahlia,” I drawl. Even though I’ve been in the Midwest for years, the southern boy in me still comes out at times. “We said we’d move on…”

“But what if we find her?” she finishes.

“Then we cross that road together. Dahlia haunts my dreams, and all I can see some nights are her caramel eyes,” I grunt. “While I knew her I was only her protector, there was never anything else.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “You were her hero. I’ll always stand by that. Feelings can change. Would she hate us if we’re together? Or that we’re doing this auction?”

“If we ever see her, or find her again, then we’ll ask her about how she feels about all of this,” I say, burying my face in her hair. I’m trying so hard to put Dahlia firmly in the past so I can move on, but little reminders keep coming up.

“I can’t continue to live this half life while we live in what ifs and worst case scenarios.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on your knees before,” Bronwyn murmurs.

I don’t apologize unless I’ve genuinely done something wrong. Dahlia? I’d crawl for her.

“The day we see her, I bet we crawl together,” I say, lifting my head to drown in her green eyes.

“I hope we get the chance too,” she says with a sad smile, brushing her lips along my temple. “Are you following me home like a stalker?”

Chuckling, I nod. Bronwyn is a brat. “Yes, baby girl. I’ll be on your ass the whole way home. The snow is kicking up, so take it nice and slow, okay?”

Nodding, she reaches behind herself to grab her backpack and opens my door to scoot out. Bronwyn gets into her vehicle, but I don’t move until she pulls out before following her. There’s a part of me that feels like a failure because I haven’t been able to find Dahlia.

I have some of the best technology possible in the world, but everything relies on a digital footprint. If she is buying things with cash, working under the table without giving her legal name, or in an area with few video cameras, then it’s easier to maintain a low profile. Dahlia could also be living on the streets.

Following Bronwyn, my mind follows the train of ‘what ifs’, and I shut it down when I arrive at home. If I continue in this direction, I’ll turn into a broody fucking bastard. Bronwyn doesn’t deserve that whiplash.

Blowing out a breath, I pack it all away for now. Bronwyn is right, the day our paths cross again, I’ll drop to my knees for Dahlia, and explain why I’m with her girl. I’ll beg her to join us, because a part of our souls are connected to her.

I hope you play hard to get, Dolly. Bee and I would be down to chase you.

Bronwyn

“I can’t believe there are so many requirements,” I breathe.

The participants go through a very thorough process to ensure their medical records are clean, and there aren’t any STDs. The results are held by Edward, the man who is putting on the auction for the club, and they also have an interview to ensure the participants are right for this.

“It’s a lot safer than going to a club and hooking up with someone,” Jack reminds me. “We hang out for one sex filled weekend, and then go our separate ways. No strings attached. There’s also no pressure. If no one interests you, we’ll leave at the end, with one hell of a date night in the books.”

“For the beginning bid starting at five hundred thousand dollars, there better be fireworks too,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“I don’t care about the money,” Jack says. “The starting bid of five hundred thousand dollars remains with the participant. Who knows the reasons someone decides to do an event like this on either side.”

“That’s true,” I admit. Life is hard, if a fun weekend gives the person we bid on an opportunity to do what they want with their life, then I’m in. I know first hand how hard starting over is. If I didn’t have Jack, I’d have it even harder.

“Let’s do it.”

Filling out the paperwork means teasing, laughter, and a glass of wine to share as we go through it. I have work tomorrow early in the morning, and I’m not typically a heavy drinker unless it’s emotional drinking.

“To a fun adventure,” I murmur as we submit our paperwork.

“Yes,” Jack says, pulling me into his lap. “How are you feeling? We got so busy filling out paperwork, I forgot about dinner. I can pull something together, or we can do the equivalent of your girl dinner.”

“Girl dinner” started a year ago when I’d get so busy writing a paper that I’d throw together cheese, crackers, my favorite jam, and some chocolate instead of making anything serious.

Jack was equal parts intrigued and horrified to find me banging out a paper to heavy metal songs and my version of dinner.

Grinning, I shrug. “I have some wine buzzing through my system, so girl dinner actually sounds fantastic,” I say.

Smirking, he hauls me into his arms to walk into the kitchen. Everything in this apartment is clean lines and stainless steel. It’s impersonal and functional, but neither of us spend enough time here to change it.

The second we got home, I changed into a pair of yoga pants, a long-sleeved shirt without a bra, and fuzzy socks. Jack sets me on the counter before he starts pulling food from the fridge to make us something to eat, his eyes moving back toward me every so often.

“Do I have something on my face?” I tease him as his blue and green eyes find me again.

“No, you just keep pulling me back in and distracting me,” he growls, picking up a bottle of honey and walking over to me.

Tugging down my shirt until my arms are pinned at my sides, but my breasts spill completely over the top, he grins as he upends the bottle to squirt honey over them.

“The website talked about hard and soft limits,” he murmurs, dropping his head to lick over my breasts, humming softly as he sucks on my nipple. “I feel as if we should talk about some of yours.”

“I didn’t know what half of those were,” I breathe, gasping as he smirks and pulls off my leggings and panties with one swift pull. I’m forced back into the cabinets behind me, eyes wide when my head smacks into it.

“Did you know your breathing grew a little harsher when the website talked about strap ons and nipple clamps?” he asks, his large hands pushing my feet up until they’re flat on the counter, spread wide for him.

“Fuck, you’re glistening, Bee.”

He… hasn’t called me that in years. Whimpering as Jack rubs his knuckles over my already overheated and slick pussy, my chest starts to heave as I wait to see where this will lead.

We haven’t had sex often, and always under the influence of alcohol. Our relationship is one of sad circumstances and close proximity.

“Did they?” I rasp, watching as his eyes smolder. Jack Katz is the sexiest man I’ve ever met. I thought he was handsome when I first met him when I was fifteen, and it was why he had a thing for my soon-to-be step-sister.

It didn’t occur to me outside of teasing him that he was so much older than us. Jack has always been easy to talk to.

“Mmhm,” he says, his tongue lapping up the honey on my breasts until all I can do is fucking feel, and my pussy is dripping onto the counter. “Do you want to fuck the girl we buy? God, I would love to watch you do that.”

“Oh, oh fuck,” I gasp as he coats his fingers in my arousal, rubbing my clit lazily.

“Maybe in a bit,” he teases me. “What about spanking? You’re a goddamn brat, Little Girl. I came to pick you up, and you good as told me to go back to work.”

“No, it’s just, ah,” I squeal as he flicks my clit hard enough to make it throb.

“My turn to talk,” he growls. “Answer questions when asked and just feel, Bee.”

Nodding frantically, I gasp as he goes back to torturing my nipples and slowly rubbing his thumb over my clit. It’s not enough stimulation to get me off, but is enough to make me writhe.

“How do you feel about sucking cock?” he murmurs, raising his brow.

“Yours or some random one?” I sass, shuddering when he pinches my nipple hard.

“I’ll share you with a woman to give you what you need, but my cock will be the only one fucking any of your holes, Bee,” he rumbles.

“Then I’m open to it. I mean, I haven’t thought about it before, but yes. I want to suck your cock,” I whisper. While I’m not a virgin anymore, I’m still very innocent.

“Such a dirty mouth,” he teases me, kissing me. I wish I could touch him, because this is the first time he’s ever kissed me.

I don’t think he realizes this. Every time he’s ever fucked me, he’s focused on my breasts, or spread me over the edge of the couch.

This is what I want. I’m starving for connection.

Jack’s ability to read me has gotten better over the years, and I know my fear after being surprised last week, by that homeless man in the parking garage, is still apparent. That poor guy probably wanted to break into my car to see if I had any spare cash, but he would have been sorely disappointed.

Jack’s tongue insists on access, forcing me to open my mouth for him. Before this, I’ve only ever had Dahlia’s sweet or impatient kisses as we made out in my room or on dates after school.

His kisses are so different from hers, his lips soft and firm, his energy confident and insistent. Jack knows what he wants, expecting me to give it to him because I can’t resist.

He’s right. I’m putty beneath him.

“How do you feel about bondage?” he breathes in my ear. “Would you trust me enough to tie you to a bed and deny you orgasms? A safe word would be used if things got too intense, and we would have a more in depth discussion around it.”

“I trust you,” I whimper. It’s true, I do. Dahlia first taught me to trust him with her words and her actions. Jack taught me to trust him when he told me the truth about Gareth and how she had texted him.

It upended my life, but he’s caught me, even if sometimes it was with his dick.

My lips twitch in amusement, and he snorts, knowing my thoughts have probably gone to a weird place. Dahlia and I had this in common, and it never was an issue. We’d just bring each other back to earth.

“Such a good girl for me,” Jack murmurs, pushing his thick fingers inside of me as he sucks on my bottom lip. “I want you to wear a butt plug to the auction, and not make a sound if I randomly turn it on. It’s a silent auction, Bee. You have to be very quiet…”

His words make me hotter as he describes how he’ll make me writhe for him before the main event, not allowing me to come.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp. Jack’s lips give me open mouthed kisses down my throat as his fingers fuck me, his thumb rubbing my clit in hard circles. It feels so good, and damn I’m so close.

“Are you going to squirt all over my thick fingers,” he growls, ducking down between my legs to suck my clit hard.

Screaming as his fingers begin to curl inside of me, I grind my pussy against his face. I’m still trapped in my shirt, my tits bouncing slightly from the force of his fingers fucking me. I’m going to be slightly sore later, but I’ll take it.

Jack eats pussy as if he was born to, flicking, sucking, and licking me over and over.

“Yes, fuck. Jack,” I whine, my eyes rolling as I shudder.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “There are so many things I want to do to you. Your pussy is sucking my fingers, already strangling them. Let go for me.”

His teeth and lips torture my clit a moment later, and I explode, screaming for him as I cover his face in my release. My vision blackens for a moment, and then he’s there, freeing me from my shirt and covering me with his.

Jack smells like whiskey and freshly cut wood, a scent that now surrounds me as I breathe him in.

His arms sweep me up as he grabs our combined plate of food, walking back into the living room.

“Looks like I already got my dinner, Bee,” he murmurs as he walks. “Guess I’ll just sit and keep you company instead.”

The scruff on his face glistens with my release, making me smirk smugly.

“Is this the equivalent of man dinner?” I tease him.

“Eating your pussy? If that’s the case, I may end up on a steady diet of it,” he grunts.

Jack sits on the couch, his cock hard against my ass as he snuggles me in his lap and feeds me dinner.

“Did you purposely forget to give me back my panties?” I ask, knowing that I’m getting his jeans wet as I chew a bite of cracker and brie cheese.

“Nope,” he murmurs. “I have you exactly the way I want you. Now about those sexual limits…”

Snuggling in his arms, I let him feed me, while making me increasingly horny. It’s not perfect in the least, but nothing can be, right?