Auctioned to the Lumberjacks Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)

When three rugged lumberjacks buy me at auction, I don’t know whether to be grateful or terrified.

So many wrong decisions put me under the control of a dangerous man intent to destroy me. My only way out is to find a place to hide and survive until I can risk going back for everything that’s been taken from me.

At the underground auction, I’m sold to the highest bidder.

The three men who buy me are huge and rugged, with watchful eyes and powerful bodies capable of tearing trees from their roots. They’re reclusive lumberjacks who take me back to their remote mountain cabin to serve all their needs.

West is ex-military. Fierce and brooding, he keeps to himself, but in the bedroom, he seems to want to break me with pleasure to fix his deep wounds.

Finn is gentle despite his size and brute strength. He’s reluctant to own me, but his need for closeness burns through his restraint.

Jack, ex-law enforcement, watches me like I’m going to bring trouble to their door. He’s mean and harsh and tests every boundary I have. But his sky-blue eyes crave the connection he seems to fear.

They introduce me to the isolation and beauty of the mountain forest, and I succumb to their dark desires, desperate for the safety they offer.

But even as I submit, I can’t forget what was taken from me, despite the risk to my life if I ever go back. Confessing the truth to three savage strangers feels impossible.

Have I surrendered to another relationship that will break me, or should I trust the three gruff lumberjacks with my secret and my heart?Auctioned to the Lumberjacks is a standalone romance in the Auctioned Series.Reader note - This book contains darker themes. These lumberjacks are mean and moody until they're redeemed by love.

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“Demons” by Jacob Lee

“Coal” by Dylan Gossett

“Travelin' Soldier” by Cody Johnson

“Something In The Orange” by Zach Bryan

“Kill The Emotion” by Backsliders

“The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac

“Disarm” by The Civil Wars

“Wondering Why” by The Red Clay Strays

“Hurt” by Johnny Cash

“Truck Bed” by Hardy

“Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)” by Omar Apollo

“To Be Free” by Dylan Gossett

“Too Late” by Washed Out




“You’re next.” The man beside me looms in the darkness, his face shadowed and emotionless.

My heart beats so fast against my ribcage that it makes me breathless. I scan the room as the overwhelming scent of smoke, alcohol, and stale man increases my panic. There’s another woman on the platform, illuminated by a bright light. Somewhere out of sight, a man is taking bids, his voice rumbling with each price increase. She’s not like me, though. She’s forced into this, but I’ve chosen to be here. The price she achieves will go to an unseen owner. My bidder will promise the money directly to me.

I focus on calming my racing pulse, breathing in for five and out for ten. In. Out. My palms hurt, and I glance down, finding my nails have marked grooves into my skin. I can’t think straight. My mind is a racing whir of thoughts, tangled with emotions, threatening to overwhelm me unless I get a grip.

I’ll be out there in a minute, displayed to a room full of men, set to be auctioned to whoever is willing to pay the highest price. Good man or bad, handsome, or ugly, I won’t have a choice. The arrangement is for a year of my life.

I strain to make out some of the faces of the men in the crowd, shuddering at the leering expressions. The girl on the platform is dressed in a tight black dress, which leaves next to nothing to the imagination. I glance down at my jeans and simple black tank, wondering if my clothes will work for me or against me.

My lips feel sticky with the lipstick I applied with trembling fingers. Beneath my arms and down my back, I’m already slick with sweat. I sway, gripping the arm of the man who will shortly send me to my fate. He shakes me off with a look of utter detachment, and tears burn in my throat.

I’m alone.

Alone and empty in a way I can’t even quantify. Where my heart used to be is just a bottomless pit of sorrow that can’t be filled.

I’m brittle and untouchable. Numb and hollow.

The only thing keeping me together is knowing that whatever happens next won’t hurt as much as what I’ve already been through. This decision, although risky and crazy, is my only path to becoming whole again.

“You’re up!” He nudges me forward and stays close behind as I force one foot in front of the other until I’m on the platform. The light is so bright that I have to squint, and even then, I can’t see anything in front of me.

The bidding begins, and with every rumble of the auctioneer’s voice, I feel closer to passing out.

I remember what the auction organizer advised: just be yourself in the moment to attract the most suitable bidder. A natural match, he said, as though I had a chance of finding my knight in shining armor, my Mr. Right.

Being shy or nervous isn’t necessarily a deterrent, he told me. Far from it. Men like this, the ones out there wanting to exchange money for flesh, like their women to be docile and subservient. The thought brings bile to my throat.

Struck with the sudden realization that this is my only chance to raise the funds I need, I’m gripped by a need to give it my best shot.

“Do you want some of this?” The once detached steward offers me his small silver flask, which I take gratefully. I don’t know what is in it, but it burns the back of my throat and settles into my stomach with unsettling warmth.

Male voices rumble, and the acoustics bounce the sound through my head to my feet and ground me to the spot. I can’t be scared. I can’t be ashamed or embarrassed. I have to be determined.

I turn with panic surging through me, giving everyone a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of what they can buy. If there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I’m attractive. Not in a film star way, but my girl-next-door innocence has always appealed to the kind of men who have wanted to corrupt me.

My chestnut waves settle around my shoulders, and I position my face as if in defiance. I keep my eyes focused in front of me, even though the crowd is dark.

Then, as though a surge of electricity momentarily interrupts the spotlight glaring into my eyes, the crowd becomes visible for a second. Directly in front of me are three huge men with stern faces half covered by unruly beards. Two have their beefy arms folded across their chests. The other, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. I blink, then squint as the light glares again, and they disappear, but this time, I know who’s looking at me, and somehow, that pushes a lightning strike of nerves right through me. I sway, reaching out to grab something to stabilize myself but finding nothing. My heartbeat swells like the beat of a bass drum, my lungs constricting so tightly, I gasp. As my vision closes in, I hear the word sold, and everything goes dark.