Page 4 of Auctioned to the Biker

“Don’t even think about lying to me, little girl,” he warns.

A shiver runs down my spine like a bolt of electricity sparking my nerves to life.

“Truthfully, then,” I start once more, peering up into those captivating eyes. He lifts one eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement shining in his hazel eyes. “I need the money to start my life somewhere new. Somewhere… away from my father,” I admit, looking down at my hands while they fidget in my lap.

“So get a job,” he says as he starts pacing around the room. “Clean office buildings or work as a waitress or sell fucking crochet cat accessories online or some shit. There are a ton ofways to make money. What you did tonight was dangerous. I have half a mind to spank you for doing something so… so stupid, and… and beneath you,” he finally lands on.

His words sting as if he really did spank me.

“Beneath me?” I repeat in a scathing tone. I don’t want him to know how much his opinion means or how much he hurt me.

This stops him in his tracks. The man turns and faces me so he can give me his full attention.

"What do you know about my life? Who are you to judge me for my choices?" My face is flushed from embarrassment and anger. Deep down I knew Morrison wasn't actually buying my virginity, which means I'll likely owe him money and this whole endeavor will be a total humiliation and a complete waste of everyone's time. "Don't you think I tried getting a regular job? It wasn't a lack of motivation or creativity on my part,thankyouverymuch.” I stand and face Morrison, crossing my arms over my chest.“My father wouldn’tletme. He likes keeping me under his watchful eye. I didn’t realize exactly why until recently.”

“What do you mean?” Morrison demands. Everything about him is intense, but I crave it. I just wish the intense feelings toward me were positive and not so obviously negative.

“I’m twenty-one now, which according to my dad, means it’s time for me to get married. Since he kept me under lock and key for most of my life, he knew - or at least assumed - I was still avirgin.” I whisper the last part even though Morrison already knows since he was at the auction.

“And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” I can’t tell if he’s upset with me, my father, or the situation as a whole, so I keep going, spilling all of my secrets.

“Long story short, I found out my dad had someone in mind for my husband. Someone willing to trade business dealings for apurewife. I didn't have any say in the matter. My own fatherwants to dress me up in a white gown and shove me down the aisle to marry some geriatric billionaire in order to further his career and grow his wealth. So, yeah. I needed a way out of that situation." I huff out a breath, gaining momentum in my rant. "When I overheard you talking about dropping the motorcycle off here, I remembered the Naughty List Auction and that I was old enough to enter. I figured if anyone should profit off of my virginity, it should be me."

Morrison turns so his back is facing me, and I notice the muscles in his back flexing and tensing as he squeezes his hands into fists.Does he believe me? Is he going to tell my dad? Will he call off the deal and take back his money?

“I didn’t have a choice,” I continue, a desperate edge leaking into my tone. “I emailed and set up everything with the auction house but I still needed a way to get here. I… maybe… sort of hid in the trailer and hitched a ride with you,” I finish in a rush.

Once again, Morrison resumes his pacing. “Let me get this straight. You found out your father wants to marry you off so you decided to enter into an auction to sell your virginity to a complete stranger in the hopes of starting a new life.”

His eyes snap to mine, barely concealing his disappointment in me.Why is his disapproval physically painful to endure?The emotions I have for this man run far deeper than they should for barely knowing him. I built him up in my mind to be this… this… I don’t know. Knight in shining armor mixed with a fatherly figure. It’s fucked up, but then again, so am I.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” I tell him, feeling small and defeated. I curl in on myself, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

“What was your plan for getting home if you knew I was leaving early? Did you even think about the day after? I mean, what the hell?” Morrison combs a hand through his thick hair, tugging at the strands with a look of exasperation.

I feel about two feet tall. The fact that he’s fully clothed and I’m in a matching bra and panty set isn’t exactly helping me feel bold at the moment. Of course, the first time I’m in a sexy outfit in front of a man he doesn’t even comment. He’s just disappointed in me.

“I’m stupid, just like you said. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I stepped out on stage. I just… I…” My voice cracks and I cover my face with my hands, absolutely mortified that I’m crying in front of Morrison.

The man freezes, his entire frame turning to face me. I can just make out his silhouette through my slightly parted fingers, though I feel his gaze in every cell of my body.

“Micaela…” his voice is softer and laced with confusion and concern.

I don’t want his pity or his judgment. I want a tornado to wipe this whole building away or an avalanche or a freak volcano eruption. I’d even settle for a power outage to give me a chance to escape under the cover of darkness.

“No,” I spit out as he takes a step closer. Shame washes over me, then burns away into anger. “You don’t get to judge me,” I tell him through tears. Morrison’s eyes widen, a look of guilt shining through his other emotions. “I did what I thought I ha-had to do,” I continue, trying and failing to hold back a sniffle.

“Micaela, I didn’t mean to–”

“I’ll give you back your money and find a way to pay back the auction house fees,” I force out in a broken voice. My palms dig into my eye sockets as I try to wring the tears from my eyes.

“Shh, baby, stop,” he murmurs. His voice is so gentle and different from how he was just speaking to me. Morrison lifts a hand to my face, slowly wrapping his fingers around my wrist and carefully pulling my hand away. “You’re hurting yourself,” he whispers.

The once growly beast of a man melts before my eyes, his features softening as he cups my cheek in his hand. Morrison wipes my tears away with the pad of his thumb, angling my head so we’re face to face.

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” he says, his hazel eyes roaming all over my face. “I can’t explain it, but seeing you up on stage, hearing your voice… I had to get you to safety. I’ve never felt such an intense need to protect another living soul and now that you’re here, I’m hurting you.”

"I forgive you," I whisper. "You're right about my plan not being well-thought-out. I felt backed into a corner and things could have gone terribly wrong."

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