Read Lost & Bound for Free Online Page B

himself and he
has very particular tastes. As time goes by, each outfit consists of less
material and shows more skin than the last. For someone who insists he’s high
class, his taste really is questionable.
    I look at the bedside clock. 7:58 p.m. Two
minutes. Two more minutes until I enter the room and their expectant faces look
me up and down. Some of them get stiff just from the sight of me.
    I usually dread it. My entrance followed by
the groans of delight they don’t even attempt to suppress. But tonight I can’t
wait for it to be eight o’clock. I can’t wait to see Callum.
    One more spritz of perfume and I make my
way upstairs. I stop on the other side of the frosted glass doors, peeking at
the room full of men. There are many in attendance tonight, at least fifteen,
which is more than usual. They all stand around in their lavish suits,
muttering to one another while they sip their expensive liquor. I can smell the
stench of whiskey from here—the scent a reminder of where I am.
    I push through the door and watch their
faces look at me eagerly. Their eyes drink me in and I struggle to keep my face
stoic and void of any emotion. I walk to the long white chaise in the middle of
the room and cast my eyes to the floor. This is the starting point and I am to
wait here for instructions.
    I subtly survey the room out the corner of
my eye and that’s when I see him.
    Callum , I
say his name to myself. I fight back the urge to smile as my eyes give him the
once over. He’s not dressed like the other men. He’s wearing faded blue jeans
with a plain black shirt, the top few buttons are loose, revealing just enough
skin to make me want to see more.
    His hair looks wet, as if he just got out
of the shower and it’s messily spiked on top of his head. He’s drinking
something, whiskey perhaps, while talking to an older man. I recognize the man,
he’s been to several parties, but he’s never touched me, unlike numerous other
men in the room.
    After a few moments, Callum’s eyes scan the
room, stopping and doing a double take on me. I can’t read the expression on
his face. He takes a mouthful of his drink, while keeping his eyes fixed on me.
He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t even smirk, he just
watches me with his unwavering gaze. It almost sends a chill down my spine, the
way his dark, hooded stare pins me in place.
    I see movement from the other side of the
room. Osborne approaches me. I keep my eyes focused on the floor, hoping the
ground will swallow me up and make me invisible. He does a half circle around
me, accessing my appearance, making sure I’ve obeyed his rules.
    He lets out a low whistle and then leans in
close to my ear, the stench of whiskey practically leaking from his pores.
“Beautiful, Emmy,” he purrs, his warm breath hitting my neck.
    I don’t respond. I don’t make eye contact.
I just stand straight with my gaze fixed downward.
    He runs his finger along my stomach, toying
with the band of my flimsy thong.
    “I love this on you,” he says quietly.
“Wear it on Monday, won’t you?”
    I’m already dreading Monday night.
    “What do you say, Emmy?”
    “Yes,” my voice squeaks out of me. I sound
pathetic.
    “Good girl.”
    He pats my ass gently before walking away.
I let out a quiet exhale. I’m glad to see the back of him.
    I look to Callum. He hasn’t taken his eyes
off of me. His lips are turned down at the sides and his shoulders are tense. I
can’t tell what he’s thinking, but it’s such a relief to know that he’s here.
For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel so alone.
    The new girl walks to my side. It looks as
though I won’t be the only entertainment tonight. The new girl has only been to
three of these parties. She’s from somewhere in Europe and knows little English,
although she probably thinks the same of me.
    Her brown hair is worn straight and frames
her face perfectly. Her skin is much paler than mine, and while wearing her
platform heels, she towers