Page 2 of Biker Bride (Hell on Heelz MC)

Chapter 2

One by one, my sisters took the stage, either auctioning donated items, or experiences, each raising a respectable amount of money. Pixie went up, her sweet and sassy routine earning her a solid bid. Her worn teddy bear, or as she called it, her stuffy in her hands, she really played up her angle, saying she was looking for a daddy for one night. In her plaid schoolgirl outfit, she sucked her thumb. Fuck. I had to admit, she was tough competition, but I wasn’t worried.

Men loved crazy.

Pixie was won by a rider who looked like he fantasized about being a dom. With a beer belly and dad bod, he looked more like her teddy bear. It was like I had already won.

"Next up, we’ve got the wild card herself, Sybil ‘Psycho’ James!" Pixie had taken the mic and was hamming it up.

"Let me tell y'all about my girl, Psycho," Pixie began, a twinkle of trouble in her eyes. "This crazy bitch once rode her Harley through a goddamn bonfire just to prove she could. She's the one you want if you fancy waking up missing a finger, an eye, or maybe even your dick. Yes, gentlemen, she’s got a thing for knife play. Watch out."

I strutted onto the stage, my heels clicking loudly, and struck a pose. Bending over to look at the crowd through myspread legs, I took the blade from my thigh holster. Flipping up straight, I wiggled my ass before I turned around. With a sultry look, I ran the tip of the knife down my exposed cleavage just enough to cause a trickle of blood. Smearing it with my thumb, I raised it to my lips and sucked. Take that Pixie. The crowd erupted in cheers and wolf whistles. As always, the attention fueled me.

"Alright, folks, who’s got big enough balls to bid on a date with Psycho?" Pixie challenged.

The bids started rolling in, and I played up every moment, blowing kisses and winking at the highest bidders. The numbers continued to rise, and I could see Pixie nervously biting her lip, aware that she was about to lose our wager.

"Hey Pix, what do you say we make this interesting?" I taunted, stepping closer to her.

She grinned wickedly. "You read my mind, Psycho."

And just like that, we were in a full-on strip-off, ripping off our heels first and tossing them into the crowd. The bids shot up, the room filled with hoots and hollers as we hulled off whatever we could, which wasn’t much. Pixie and I laughed as we peeled off layers, leaving the crowd in a frenzy and us in only our panties.

Our act really kicked it up a notch, because naked women at the Roost were almost unheard of. We were bikers, not strippers. But it wasn’t the first time I had my tits out at the bar, and it wouldn’t be my last.

"Going once, going twice—sold!" Pixie declared, slamming down the gavel. "To the gentleman in the back for five grand!"

The crowd went wild. I smiled like I was back in a pageant, stepping down from the stage barefoot, but I was seething inside. The bid was just shy of what a date with Pixie went for. Five five.

Fuck me. I’d lost.

Mudflaps brought me a robe. “There will be less trouble if you cover up,” she explained, helping me tie the front. My sisters were so serious about this charity auction.

As I made my way through the throng, I felt a strong hand grab my arm. I turned to see who had the balls to lay a hand on me.

Standing there was a man who looked like he’d fallen from heaven and landed in hell. Like he stepped out of a mafia movie—sharp suit, dark hair, and calculating eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. His handsome face exuded danger, and I was instantly wet down under.

"You must be Psycho," he stated, his voice smooth as silk. "I’m Vincent Mancini. Vince to my friends."

Fuck. There's a chance that I had won. Licking my lips, I breathed out, “Well, Vince, looks like you’ve got yourself a date.”

Cheapskate.

He bit his lip and pulled me close to his rock-hard body. Damn. He smelled like a million bucks. "Oh, it’s more than a date. We need to talk. Somewhere private."

I yanked my arm free, but my curiosity was more than piqued. "Alright, but don’t get any ideas. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t do more." I didn’t do more, as in love, but some wild monkey sex I could handle.

Vince stole my arm again and practically dragged me toward a quieter corner. Something a less handsome man could never pull off.

"Trust me, Sybil, what I have in mind is strictly business." The deafening noise of the club gave us all the privacy we needed. Vince leaned in close, his icy eyes never leaving mine. “What I am about to propose might sound crazy…”

I’d show him crazy. “Listen, I’m supposed to be the psycho one. What are you looking for? You paid to take me to some fancy joint, but for a little more, under the table, as in not to the charity, I’ll let you yank it under the table while you watch me slurp some spaghetti at the Cheesecake Factory.”

Vince’s lips puckered and his head cocked like he was debating my offer. “You like cheesecake, huh?”

“No. I love spaghetti and meatballs from Cheesecake Factory. I’m not picky. I don’t care about the date. I know how it will go. You’ll want more, but for that you’ll have to pay. And you’re not putting your hands on me. You can look, but you can’t touch. Now, stop beating around the bush. What do you want and how much are you willing to pay?”

“Okay, I need a wife. And I think you’re perfect for the job. How much do you need?"

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