Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,95

over to a Master. Who’s willing to give over to a 24/7 power exchange.

Maybe that’s why nothing has interested me. My tastes are specific. A Slave. I crave the power being a Master allows me, and the desire to control and provide her every need.

Across the hall from the game room in my home is the door to a room I created for one sole purpose. A room fit for my match.

I shrug the leather jacket on my shoulders, trying to remember when the last time I even opened it was.

Too long. It’s been far too long.

Chapter 2

Katia

I can practically hear the clock ticking as I go about my daily routine. Tick. Tick. Tick. It’s a quarter past five and I’m running behind schedule. I’m usually on time, but I had difficult time sleeping last night, tossing and turning for most of the night. I frown at the memory as I pull on my faded wash jeans over my hips, and tug down my cozy red sweater.

I haven’t had a night that bad in a while. I cover my mouth with a yawn and try to ignore the unsettling feelings as I make my way to the bathroom sink. But I’m hoping it’s just a fluke. It is just a fluke. I won’t let things get back to the way they were.

Pushing the unpleasant memory away, I swipe on my favorite lipstick in a shade reminiscent of crushed rose petals, and smoosh my lips together. Then I peer critically at myself in the mirror. The quick ponytail I coax my hair into is going a long way to hide my disheveled blonde hair, but when you’re the owner of Paws Apartments, a doggy day care and shelter, your hair doesn’t need to be pretty. You just need to show up and be there.

I’ve found dogs only care about two things. Well, three. Food, exploration and companionship. I love it actually. Working and caring for these dogs fills me with purpose and gives my life meaning. It’s the one thing I look forward to every day. Just thinking about the excitement on their fuzzy little faces when I walk in to greet them warms my chest and brings a small smile to my lips as I reach for the small tube of thick concealer.

Another part of my routine.

My smile slowly vanishes as I run my fingertips along the scars littering my neck. No matter how much time passes, they barely seem to fade. It’s been four long years, but they’re still there, reminding me of a darker time in my life. As I stare at my neck in the mirror, a weight presses down on my chest, but after a moment I push it away in defiance.

I survived all that, I think to myself, dotting the concealer on my neck and right shoulder and then reaching for my foundation. And I’m stronger now.

He didn’t ruin me. I won’t let him hold any power over me anymore.

Straightening my back, I swallow thickly and square my shoulders as I delicately press the foundation onto my skin and smooth the concealer on the scars on my neck until they’re all gone. After I’m done with my face, I toss the foundation into the decorative velvet-lined box where I keep my makeup, the memories already fading. Coffee is the next thing on my agenda.

Tick, tick, tick. The small ticks echo in my head, reminding me how far I’m behind already. I grit my teeth. Crap.

I almost call out, “I’m coming, Roxy!” as I make my way to the kitchen, but then I catch myself, a feeling of sadness coursing through me. I take a deep breath and rub under my tired eyes. It’s a habit I have yet to break. I’m so used to Roxy being there every time I turn around that I still haven’t gotten over the fact that she’s gone.

Tears prick my eyes as my bare feet pad on the linoleum and I start the coffee maker. Two clicks, and it’s brewing. I should grab something to eat, but instead I find myself lost in thought as the sounds of the water heating fill the empty space. The quiet space. Quiet because she’s not here anymore.

Roxy, my Golden Retriever, was such a lovable dog. She was always there for me whenever I needed her. She was so happy. I swear dogs can smile, and she was always smiling. We were practically inseparable. And she didn’t give a rat’s ass that I had