Be My Hero (Forbidden Men 3)

"Moving along to the modest members of the group." I hitched my thumb Mason's way. "We have Family Man Mason. But watch out ladies, he's about to be a daddy."

When I motioned to the very pregnant Eva, Mason spun to me, his glare beating the shit out of me.

"What the hell?"

"Relax," I told him out the side of my mouth as I dropped the mic to my side. "I'm trying to make you look less appealing so no one will want you."

He didn't exactly relax, or stop glaring, but he didn't pounce and try to physically pound me into the ground either. The women reached for him as well, but he stepped to the very back edge of the bar so they couldn't lay a finger on him.

"And last, but certainly not least, we have Hamilton . . . the virgin."

Ten hooted and hollered, laughing his ass off, while Quinn's mouth dropped open, his face turning a very bright, scarlet red.

"Oh, that was harsh," Mason said into my ear, shaking his head in disapproval.

Ignoring him, I asked the crowd, "Any ladies out there willing to deflower this delicate little petal and show him what having a woman's all about?"

When a hell of a lot more feminine voices than I was expecting catcalled, claiming they would gladly take him on, I cringed, hoping my plan to make him look less appealing hadn't backfired on me. But shit, who knew women actually preferred inexperienced men?

I checked on Eva again, wondering if she was as pissed at me as Lowe was by my unappealing introductions, but she was still smiling. She shook her head as if to scold me, but her smile clearly said she forgave me for using her pregnancy for Mason's benefit.

"So, let's get this party started, shall we? Is anyone willing to buy one of us as your very own personal bartender for the rest of evening?"

About fifty woman lifted their hands, cash clutched between their fingers. "Ten bucks," some shouted.

I heard fifty and twenty from a couple of other directions, but I didn't react until a hundred was tossed out among the melee.

Holy shit! A hundred bucks? This was going to be a good auction.

I pointed that way. "Did I hear a hundred? I think I just heard a hundred."

"One twenty," another girl called, rattling me by how easily it had gone over a hundred.

"One twenty-five!"

And we were on. The bidding quickly escalated. We reached two hundred dollars in a matter of seconds. My palms started to sweat, so I rubbed one against the hip of my jeans. More than half the crowd of ladies dropped out at three hundred. But some kept go

ing, hot and heavy. By the time we reached four-fifty, a bead of sweat anxiously leaked down the side of my temple because I was certain the tall redhead below me, who was one of the big bidders, would choose me. But when the price went up to five seventy-five, that woman dropped out. It came down to two ladies I'd never seen before.

"Do I hear six hundred?" I asked, pointing at the woman whose turn it was to raise the price.

She bit her lip, looking undecided and called, "five-eighty," right before her contender immediately said, "seven hundred."

No one wanted to top that. I kept the bidding open a few seconds longer, pointing out past women who'd thrown out a price before, but no one would go over seven hundred dollars. Not that I blamed them. Seven hundred was a lot of fucking money. I glanced at the blonde who was about to win the auction and tried to figure out which bartender she preferred. But I couldn't read her at all.

Unable to help myself, I checked on Eva again. She chewed on her bottom lip, studying the blonde winner as well.

I drew in a breath. "Well, it looks like we have a winner, weighing in at seven hundred big ones. Give me your hand, sweetheart, and climb on up here with us."

The blonde reached up for me, and I helped her step onto a stool and then the bar top so she was standing between me and Ten. "What's your name, precious?" I asked before lowering the microphone to her mouth.

She was an attractive thing, tall and slim with big breasts. Ten would have a field day with her if she chose him.

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she leaned forward to announce, "Cora."

"Well, congratulations are in order to you, Miss Cora. You won yourself your very own bartender for this evening. So, who's the lucky guy going to be?"

I held all the air in my lungs as she leaned past me, turning away from Ten. Shit. She was going to pick Lowe. Already trying to figure how to let her down easily, I was shocked senseless when she gestured at Quinn instead.