Chapter 5
SHEP
“How about a thousand, boys?”
That was the first thing I heard when I followed Jackson and Cyrus into the huge great room.
The house was fucking insane, starting with the huge elk head by the front door.
The antlers were used as a hat rack, I shit you not.
There’d been a pile of coats stacked on a side table and when I scanned the room, it was clear this was being run by Rocky, not his dad.
No way would a sixty-something millionaire and his friends toss outerwear around, or sprawl across the couch with cheap beer and a football game on the TV.
It screamed college frat party minus the college.
This whole thing screamed entitlement. They were drinking booze they didn’t pay for, lived in a house they couldn’t afford.
Even this auction was probably being funded by trust funds.
Dead grandparents who left it to them must be rolling over in their graves.
I took in the two-story fireplace, the number of empty bottles and cans strewn about, guys lounging on a sofa the size of California. They didn’t even have to try for sex. These women were a sure thing.
I froze halfway in the room when I noticed a woman standing on top of a huge slice of wood an interior decorator thought would be perfect as a coffee table.
She was fucking gorgeous. Whiskey colored hair, pale skin, full figured. As in, lots to hold onto.
There were eight women in total, the others lined up in front of the fire, their asses probably getting scorched. They looked into this whole thing, like they’d been here before.
“A thousand!” someone shouted. “I love T and A.”
Rocky must’ve seen us out of the corner of his eye because he popped up from the couch and came over. “Jackson, you finally fucking made it.”
They slapped hands in some stupid fraternity-style handshake.
“You three were gonna miss out bidding on a virgin.”
He tipped his head to the side and all three of us in unison swiveled in that direction.
To the woman on the coffee table.
Her. Holy shit.
She was a virgin?
Here? What the fuck was she doing in a sex auction then?
“A virgin?” Jackson replied. “Fuck yeah.”
“Fuck is right,” Cyrus added with a laugh.
Her blue dress didn’t hide much, snug in a way that indicated the dress was too small for her full frame. The deep V neckline only drew my eyes to that ample cleavage. Bare legs showed off shapely and toned calves. The sky high heels didn’t hurt, either.
All that definitely made my dick hard, but it was her eyes that met mine and stayed.
A deep brown. Striking. Potent.
She wasn’t smiling. Unlike the other women behind her, I sensed she wasn’t into this. Except, she wasn’t running away, either, which meant she was here for it.
But a virgin?
No man had touched that creamy skin? No one had sucked on those pert tits or hard little nipples? No one had gotten between those thighs? Her pussy was untried and tight?
Shit.
I was getting hard for a woman–a virgin–in a fucking auction at Rocky Trout’s house. What the hell was wrong with me?
Jackson and Cyrus were laughing at something Rocky had said, but I’d zoned out.
“Fifteen-hundred,” Jackson called, setting a hand on the back of the couch, hopping over and settling into the expensive leather.
He dropped into the seat and someone passed him a can of beer.
He’d fuck any one of these women and he was tossing out a bid like a baited fishing line, seeing if he could get a bite.
I glanced at Cyrus beside me. He wasn’t looking at the woman currently up for bid. His gaze was on a blonde on the far right. She even gave him a little wave. He winked in return. He knew who he was fucking tonight.
“Two thousand,” a different fucker said from the far end of the couch. I had no idea who he was, but I didn’t like him. I wanted to leap over the couch like Jackson had and punch him in the face. “Come on, Francesca, spin around. Let’s see that ass I’m gonna tap.”
Francesca.
Her gaze narrowed and she glared, but after a second, she turned in a slow circle, probably afraid to teeter and fall in those heels if she went faster.
Shit. Fuck. That ass. My mouth watered with the thought of taking a bite out of it. Spanking it. Fucking it. No way the guy who called out was gonna tap that.
She was mine.
I did a quick headcount of the guys around the room. Nine. With Cyrus probably out of the picture, now all I had to do was outbid eight others for the virgin.
Eight fuckers who, based on this insane house and knowing Jackson, had a shit-ton more money than me to pay for popping a cherry.
Francesca looked young, but her gaze on mine not only showed innocence–because while I wasn’t a rocket scientist, I could tell she’d never been here before–but weariness.
As if life had been hard. She wasn’t one of Jackson’s or Rocky’s friends.
She didn’t have that shiny gloss to her.
While her brown hair was styled into loose curls down her back and her lips were splashed with a bold red, her nails weren’t polished.
Hell, it looked like they had dirt underneath them, like she worked a ranch. It was certainly possible around here.
“Two thousand, five hundred and Travis and I will fuck her together.” The guy who spoke high fived a guy with a crew cut, who sat beside him. They looked like sharks ready to take bites out of their prey. “More if she’s not eighteen.”
“What the fuck, Rocky?” I shouted.
Okay, this situation was fucked up enough in my mind. Adding underage girls to the mix? I was definitely tattling to Colt because there were other words to call what was going on besides trafficking.
“Nineteen, gentleman,” Rocky told us. “I checked ID. All legal.”
This entire event was questionable, but it was happening. Rocky might be a creep and a dick, but he was smart. If he wanted to keep doing this, and not get in real trouble like his little brother, he’d ensure everyone was of age.
Still. No way were they touching her. Hell, there was no way I wanted any of them to even keep looking at her, let alone thinking about fucking her.
They’d fuck her. Hurt her. I doubted any of these guys knew where a clit was if they had a headlamp and a compass. They wouldn’t be gentle. They sure as hell wouldn’t give her an orgasm.
If she wanted this, wanted the money or hell, if this whole night was a kink of hers, I was the man to make it happen.
Yeah, she was mine. I was gonna pay whatever was needed so no one else here would have her.
I hopped the couch like Jackson had and stepped right in front of her. She was a foot taller than me on the coffee table. This close, I saw the freckles on her nose. The little moon earrings in her ears. The way her eyes widened in surprise.
I even caught her scent–lemon.
Hooking an arm around her thighs, I pulled her toward me and flipped her over my shoulder. “She’s mine. You fuckers need to bid on someone else.”