2. Micaela

2

MICAELA

O hmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod what did I just do?

I mean, I know what I just did. I sold my virginity to the sexy, stoic biker who works for my father. I literally have the receipt to prove it. Hopefully, by the end of the night, I'll also have nearly two million dollars in my bank account.

The strap of my dark green lingerie set slides down my shoulder and I push it back up, adjusting everything so I’m tucked in and yet showing off the girls at the same time. I adjust my position on the bed in the Tease and Please room, unsure of what pose I should strike for when Morrison enters.

Leaning back on my elbows? No, that forces me to tilt my head down which will only accentuate my double chin. One leg crossed over the other? Nope, not with silk sheets, lacy panties, and high heels on. I almost slipped right off the mattress.

I run my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath, letting the air out in a long sigh. Never in a thousand years did I think Morrison would bid on me. He never stays for the Naughty List Auction, which is one of the many reasons my ridiculous crush on him has grown out of control.

Morrison might not notice me when I hang around Maverick Motors but that doesn't mean I haven't had my eyes on him since my father hired him over five years ago. With dark, espresso-brown hair, entrancing hazel eyes, a well-kept beard, and muscles on muscles, Morrison is without a doubt the most devastatingly gorgeous man I've ever seen. I'd be lying if I said I haven't had more than a few fantasies about what he looks like without a shirt and if he has tattoos everywhere.

Aside from his chiseled body covered in tattoos and his sharp features, Morrison is a good man. He’s honorable and takes pride in his work. He’s ever raised his voice or his hand to me or anyone else that I know of, which is more than I can say for my father. He’s been invited to more than one of these super-secret auction events but he’s declined every single time. Morrison only shows up when a bike needs to be delivered so he can get more contacts for future clients, and then he leaves before anything starts.

Except for tonight, apparently.

Is he going to tell my dad? Will I have to give him back my cut of the money? Does he really want my virginity or was he just trying to get me off stage as a favor to my father?

Before my thoughts spiral completely out of control, the golden doorknob on the velvet-padded door jiggles and turns, revealing all six and a half feet of Morrison as he towers in the doorway. My heart leaps into my throat and I wipe my sweaty palms on my bare thighs.

“Micaela,” he breathes out, his voice scratchy and guttural. I’m not sure if he’s mad, annoyed, or disappointed. Probably all three.

“I can explain,” I start, automatically going on the defensive. He takes a step inside the room, and then another, his dark hazel eyes locked onto mine. “I, uh, well, for starters, I wasn’t expecting you to be here. I mean I knew you were coming to drop off the chopper but you never stay for the auctions.”

Morrison stops in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest as he narrows his gaze. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” I blurt out before slapping my hand over my mouth. Morrison’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline at my response. “Not like stalking you or anything. That came out wrong,” I’m quick to say. “Just like, casually observing you. I… Look, I may have heard that you would be dropping off your latest custom job here and… found a way to hitch a ride. But I know that you never attend the actual events. I thought…”

I trail off, not sure how to finish my sentence. I realize I’m rambling but I don’t know what else to do with myself.

“Casually observing, hitching a ride…?” Morrison repeats my words like a question, but I get the sense he’s not really looking for the answer. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. What brought you here? Why were you on stage tonight?”

I swallow thickly and nod, trying not to get distracted by the power this man’s presence has on me. I’ve had a crush on him for years that has recently boarded on obsession. Strange, since we’ve barely spoken more than a handful of words to each other in all the years he’s been working for my father.

“I… Well, see, the thing is…” I nibble on my bottom lip instead of finishing the thought. Should I tell him the truth?

“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 of ways 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’t let me. 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 a virgin .” 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 a pure wife. I didn't have any say in the matter. My own father wants 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."

“I understand more than most about feeling trapped and having to fight your way out.”

Those golden-brown eyes with green flecks peer directly into my heart, rearranging something deep inside. His hand slides to the back of my neck, angling my head so our lips are inches apart. His breath rolls across my lips, sending goosebumps down my spine.

Morrison has always been handsome and ruggedly sexy. I’ve imagined his kiss for years now, but never did I think I’d get the chance to feel it for myself.

As I sway forward, I’m painfully aware of every extra pound of weight I carry from my rounded belly to my jiggly arms and thick, dimpled thighs. Am I about to make a fool of myself? Is he doing this because he feels bad for me? Do I care?

“May I kiss you, beautiful girl?”

I nod, his words wiping away my doubts for the time being. “I think I would like that very much.”

Morrison’s eyes flash with amusement and he grins, a low chuckle sounding from the back of his throat as he leans in and closes the distance between us.

My lips part, welcoming the heat of Morrison’s kiss as it brands me for all of time. He licks into my mouth, sliding his tongue against mine in hungry strokes. His fingers tangle in my hair as he tilts my head up. I whimper at the sting, then moan when it’s followed by a rush of liquid ecstasy.

Morrison growls softly and trails his hands down my body, pausing to cup my breasts and brush his thumbs over my sensitive nipples. He continues kneading and stroking my curves until he grips my hips and walks me backward a few steps.

I gasp as my back hits the velvet-padded walls of the Tease and Please room. Morrison swallows the sound in an earth-shattering kiss, pressing his huge, muscled body against mine. I melt into him, into this moment, letting Morrison take whatever he needs.

“The things I want to do to you, babygirl,” he groans, trailing kisses down my neck.

Babygirl. Holy hell, I swear I can feel that word sink down into the depths of my being. I shudder as his hands roam all over my body, one sliding up the outside of my thigh and gripping me there.

I make some needy, wanton sound as his calloused fingers tease my thigh in barely there touches. Then he tightens his hold, gripping my leg and hooking it over his hip. I want this . I want whatever he has to give, for however long he’s willing to give it.

“Fuck,” he grunts softly, his lips hovering above mine as he rubs his cock against my aching center. I nearly come undone when he taps my clit, making my lacy panties scrape along my swollen bundle of nerves. “Tell me to slow down,” he says.

I shake my head no. “Please don’t stop,” I pant. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“You’ve wanted to kiss someone?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you ," I finally admit. This seems to give him whatever permission he needs.

Morrison pushes his hand into my hair once more, pulling me closer and fusing our mouths together. I taste his hunger, his raw desire, and his intense need for control. I wriggle against him, and Morrison tightens his hold on me, pinning me in place while he ruins me with his kisses.

Finally, he tears himself away from me, both of us panting as we stare at each other. He has a feral look in his eyes, like an alpha predator winding up to strike.

“I shouldn’t… Fuck me, I can’t…” he growls. Morrison’s nostrils flare and he grits his teeth as he looks me up and down. “The things I want to do to your perfect curves…” He inhales sharply and then lets out a controlled breath.

“Do it,” I whisper, peering up at him from beneath my lashes. I hardly recognize my sultry voice as the words fall from my lips.

“Don’t test me, Micaela. I’m not as strong as you might think.” His eyes are transfixed on my mouth and he brushes his thumb against my bottom lip. Morrison trembles, which makes me feel like a powerful, sexy goddess. “But how can I resist you, babygirl?” he asks more to himself than to me.

There’s that word again. Babygirl. It gives me chills and wicked thoughts. If I’m his babygirl, does that make him my… I can’t even finish the thought without more of my arousal slicking the insides of my thighs.

“What if I can’t hold back, either? I mean I did show up here tonight expecting to sell my…”

A dangerous look flashes across Morrison’s face, his brows furrowing as he clenches his jaw. “I can’t think about another man getting to see you like this,” he says, his voice low and scratchy. “Fuck, I know we talked about this already, but it drives me fucking crazy to think about you putting yourself up on stage with all of those prying eyes undressing you…”

“But you saved me,” I whisper.

"Goddamn right I did," he growls. "What am I going to do with you now that you're here?" Morrison leans down, brushing his lips and nose up and down my neck, breathing me in. He nips my sensitive skin and then licks away the sting, humming to himself as if savoring my taste.

I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, my newly awakened sexual fantasies, or the stunning Greek god of a man standing in front of me. Whatever caused the surge of confidence rolling through my body has taken over and I hear myself saying, “Maybe you should spank me like you said you would earlier.”

My cheeks burn from the blush taking over my face, but the dark gleam in Morrison’s eyes lets me know I made the right move.

“Is that a challenge?” Before I can answer, Morrison scoops me up and sets me down in front of the bed, placing his hands on my hips. He spins me around and pulls me into him, my back to his front. He holds me tightly, silently demanding my surrender. I still my motions and let him take this little bit of control.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing the side of my neck. His praise makes my clit throb. “Now bend over and take your punishment.”

I turn and look at him over my shoulder, but he grips my chin and faces me forward before pushing me down on the bed. I catch myself on my hands, chancing another look over my shoulder.

Morrison is standing behind me, running a hand through his hair and then scrubbing it down his face, tugging at his well-groomed beard.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to hell for the things I want to do to that ass,” he mutters under his breath.

“So do it,” I press, loving the spark of fire in his smirk. He’s so damn hot and commanding. Everything about him.

His eyes snap to mine, brimming with lust. Morrison snarls and grasps the thin strings of my emerald green thong, ripping it off and tossing it aside. His show of strength, of his barely restrained hunger, has my legs shaking and my core pulsing with need.

I open my mouth to tell him to do something, but then he smacks my ass, the sharp crack echoing around the room. I don’t register the sting at first, too shocked to feel anything at all. Then my skin heats up and a bite of pain travels through me.

I gasp and try pushing myself up, but he’s on me in a second. Morrison kicks my legs apart, stepping closer to me as he presses a hand between my shoulder blades, keeping me bent over on the bed.

He spanks me again, harder this time, making me cry out in pleasure and buck my hips. The raw emotion mixed with my stinging flesh and throbbing pussy is enough to make me light-headed.

"Fuck yes, take it, little girl," he snarls, his hand coming down on my ass with a smack. "This is for showing off your perfect, sexy-as-hell body for any man to look at," he growls.

I twist away from him, though I don’t really want to leave. Tears fall freely down my cheeks and my bottom is sore and stinging, but I crave whatever this is. I feel something breaking loose inside me, a weight I didn’t know I was carrying.

Morrison slides the hand on my back up, up, up, until his fingers twist in my hair. He tugs at the strands roughly, angling my head so he can lean down and brush his lips against mine. My heart is hammering in my chest as he breathes me in and smooths his other hand over the sensitive area he just spanked.

His fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they dip into my drenched folds, sliding up and down. My eyes roll into the back of my head and I gasp softly at how fucking good it feels. The pain quickly turns to the most unimaginable pleasure.

Morrison grunts and nips at my bottom lip as he slides a finger inside my pulsing channel. I whimper into his mouth and he slips his tongue inside, kissing me as he fucks me with his finger.

God, I’m so close to coming, my muscles pulled tight, my bones vibrating beneath my skin, every part of me crying out and begging for release.

And then his hand is gone.

I’m about to protest when he lands three rough blows on my ass and upper thighs before plunging two fingers into my pussy and twisting them to hit some spot that brings me right up to the edge again.

“That was for putting yourself in a dangerous situation,” he grunts. “And this is for not coming to me first. I would have prevented all of this from happening. I would have saved you from it all because you’re mine .” His voice rumbles through my body, the possessiveness in those two words making me melt for him. “It’s time you learn exactly what that means.” He withdraws his hand and smacks my cheeks, first one, then the other.

I whimper and writhe beneath this powerful man, wanting more, even if I don’t know what that is. He’s so sure of himself, so sure of me and what I need. It’s intoxicating, having Morrison’s attention like this.

Once again, he caresses the sore spot he just left on my ass before gently rubbing circles on my swollen clit. My arms give out and I fall forward, caught only by his hand, still wrapped around my hair.

“Fuck, love seeing you surrender, babygirl. Love knowing you trust me.”

“Who said I trust you?” I lie through chattering teeth. I feel like I’m going to explode. Pain, pleasure, lust, and longing war for control inside my body.

Morrison chuckles darkly before spanking me again, harder this time. Hard enough to make me scream. Hard enough to make me cry. Hard enough to make me pulse and throb and come in a vicious wave of ecstasy.

“Holy fuck,” he growls, spanking me again to set off another wave of brutal bliss. “Lie to me again, little girl,” he threatens. “Or tell me the truth.”

I moan and twist my hips, not sure if I want to scramble out of his arms or curl up into his chest. “What truth?” I whisper, shaking with the intensity of this moment.

“You want this. You need this. You’re mine. My babygirl. Mine .”

“Are you mine?” I manage to grit out, though I think it might have come off as a pathetic whimper.

“Yes,” he answers immediately, his tone firm and commanding. “I don’t know why it took me seeing you on stage to snap me to my senses, but now that you’re here, I’m not letting you go.”

God, I wish he was for real. This is all part of the fantasy though, right? I have to keep reminding myself of that.

“Micaela,” Morrison bites out. “Tell me you understand. Tell me you’re mine.”

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say them yet.

He begins rubbing my pussy again, the pad of his finger circling my pulsing entrance before flicking my clit. I gasp and moan, but don’t say anything. Morrison withdraws his hand and rubs my juices all over my ass before landing a devastating blow, the wetness on my skin intensifying the sharp crack of pain.

I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut, every muscle in my body clenched up tight as everything I’ve been trying to keep hidden works its way out of me. I sob and scream and come in a shuddering wave of excruciating bliss.

“I’m y-yours,” I cry, barely able to get the words out. “I’m s-s-sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…”

The next thing I know, I’m curled up in Morrison’s lap as he sits on the edge of the bed. He’s rocking me back and forth, pressing kisses to the top of my head as he strokes my back.

“I’ve got you, little love,” he murmurs, holding me close. “You did so good. I’m so proud of you,” he praises me, making me cry even harder as I bury my face into the side of his neck. “Daddy’s here.”

Did he just say…?