Auction: MFMM Biker Erotica

Sweet, pure, innocent Alice is untouched and up for Auction.

She expected to spend the night with the man who made the highest bid, but a team of four win the right to ravish her body.

Will they live up to her dreams?

EXCERPT: Perched at the edge of nowhere just beyond the city's shadow and comfortably outside the reach of polite society The Iron Fist existed within its own ruleset. It smelled of engine oil, beer, smoke, and testosterone.

The parking lot was always full of chrome beasts growling in the dark, and leather-clad figures prowling in and out like wolves.

People whispered about it like a myth. Half bar, half strip club, all chaos. The Iron Fist wasn't a place you stumbled into by accident. To Alice, it was home.

She moved behind the bar long blonde hair tied up in a careless knot, a little dusting of glitter on her collarbone, a white tank top barely containing the curves she'd grown into. She had this softness about her, a kind of glow that didn't make sense in a place like this. But that was part of her charm. She looked pure, untouched, like a porcelain girl in a dirty dream and the regulars adored her for it.

They called her Angel. Sometimes Ice Cream. One guy even said she looked like "a virgin schoolgirl who wandered into hell and decided to stay."

Not far off the mark. . .

*

That night, after closing, Alice sat on the bar top, legs crossed, fingers curled around a bottle of something strong. The place was empty now, except for Styx.

He was wiping down the bar, even though the surface already gleamed. That's how she knew he was tense.

"You're thinking something dangerous," he said without looking at her.

"I'm thinking something big," she replied, voice light.

He glanced up. His long silver-streaked hair was tied back, his eyes sharp as broken glass. "Big and dangerous are the same thing."

She swung her legs. "What if we could raise real money for Lily? Like, serious money."

He snorted. "What are you gonna do, rob a bank?"

"Nope," she said, hopping down from the bar. She walked around, facing him. "I'm gonna auction my virginity.". . .

*

And the winners? . . .

Near the back, to the side, just outside the shadows, stood four men. All of them tall. Broad. Leather jackets, tight jeans, boots that had stomped through deserts and fights. The one who spoke stepped forward slightly dark hair, a scar along his cheekbone, eyes like cold fire.

"Cash, of course," he added. "From all four of us."

The crowd went still.

Even Styx hesitated.

Alice's mouth parted. Her heart thudded.

"What?" she asked, not quite sure she'd heard right.

"We're bidding together," the man said. "Four of us. One night. One prize. One girl to share."

Her legs felt weak.

Four of them!

Strangers. And look at the size of them. Mean and huge. They could rip her to shreds.

She could say no. Styx would shut it down in an instant.

But as she looked at them those four shadows standing like a wall between her and the rest of the world something thrilled inside her. A raw, forbidden pull.

One night.

Four men.

All hers. Or maybe. . . she'd be theirs.

She drew a breath, steady but shallow.

". . . Okay," she whispered.