Turning I looked at Tank who had moved to sit on the bed and was removing his shoes, I looked at the huge bed and tilted my head, as I took it in, the bed was custom made, and would most likely be why he had a top floor special room, he needed the bigger room for this bed, it was a good foot longer than most beds, to accommodate his six foot, eight, or maybe nine inches of all man, he removed his shirt, causing my eyes to look at his toned body, he had muscles on his muscles, no wonder he had no trouble lifting one of the motor cycle engines for me, he was wow.
I couldn’t peel my eyes off his chest as he stood up and removed his jeans. My mouth went dry as I soaked in the eye candy before me.
A chuckle pulled me from my ogling.
“Wipe your chin, you are drooling.”
I wiped my mouth without hearing what he was saying, and then blushed when his laugh became louder at my action. Placing my hands on my hips, ready to give him a serve, and all that came out was.
“Do you blame me?” I squeaked out, instead of the strong voice I had intended to use. Surprising me with my tone, I sounded all breathy.
Tank groaned and ran his hand through his hair.
“You going to sleep in your jeans?” He pulled the blankets back and climbed in, sitting there waiting.
“Come on, there’s plenty of room.” He patted the side of the bed next to him, and I could feel my blush again.
First, I placed my jacket on the back of a chair, then shucked off my socks and shoes, taking my time. Turning my back to him, I hesitantly removed my jeans, hearing another groan behind me, which had me looking over my shoulder at Tank, who was staring at my G-string-covered arse.
“Wipe your chin,” I said, copying what he said to me, and like me, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand.
I burst out laughing; that action broke the tension inside of me, like I needed something to take away my nerves. He wasn’t someone I needed to be scared of.
He looked at me, and then the back of his hand, and it dawned on him what he did.
“Cheeky.” He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
I was facing him now, so I got brave. Slowly lifted my shirt over my head – yeah, I should have done the T-shirt first, not sure why I did the jeans first, I felt exposed before him.
Just like wearing a bikini, just like wearing a bikini. I kept repeating in my head as I shyly moved to climb up into the bed. It was higher than the average bed -just like everything about this guy: bigger, taller, drool-worthy good.
The moment I lay down, he scooted down next to me and pulled me to him, causing me to turn my back on him, and he spooned me from behind. This was the first time I had shared a bed with a guy; our sleepovers were girls only, and we never spooned.
Tank POV
My shaft was hard -so hard, I think I could use it as a hammer.
Getting Maxine to my room was not something I thought would happen tonight. I am only just starting to get to know her, and after a few hours by her side, I am smitten. With her on my lap, she fits perfectly.
Thought she would refuse, just because it was late, and this was a new place, a rough place to be, but the Prez made a good argument for me. Think he might have made her feel bad, but good for me, he was right, though. I would have followed her home to make sure she made it safely, and then rode back. I could have swapped phone numbers, and she could have texted me to let me know she made it, but that didn’t sit well with me. I would have followed her, or I wouldn’t have slept tonight, and the guys would give me hell tomorrow for letting her go home alone.
You can’t place a claim on a girl and not follow through; letting her leave alone would have been a disgrace in their eyes. Once you claim a woman, her position in the gang is elevated, not to patch level, but still above the bytches, even above the noms, who are seen as our personal slaves while they try for a patch. Some go a year without being patched, while others do something that catches everyone’s eye and get that patch earlier. But the woman, it was so rare to claim one, that they get that level of respect and gang protection that comes from being claimed, although there had been a few times, where the woman claimed was kicked out, because she turned out unworthy; however, while still a claimed woman, she will be given some level of priviledge few unclaimed women can get.
Maxine was one of the few who already had the gang’s protection, having been part of the bike shop for so many years and having proved herself, but was elevated now that I placed a claim on her.
I knew of her over the years -seen her in her coveralls in the distance, covered in grease, or her feet hanging out under a truck-but never stopped to talk or have much to do with her, other than bike business. She was a kid when the news of her working as an apprentice at the club was a massive laugh at first. Who would have thought of us letting a girl fix our bikes-but she proved herself more than capable and surpassed even Mike’s expectations. She won an apprenticeship award, and Mike posted a picture at the presentation ceremony, proud as any father would be. He treated her like his son, not daughter; none of us thought of her as a girl anymore; she was our top mechanic, and no one ever gave her grief. We respected who she had become.
This hiccup of her ex, who had hurt her so badly, had opened a door for one of us to claim her, bringing her further into our lifestyle, to see if she clicked. After working with her tonight, laughing at her corny come backs, had me a gonna, I would have fought any of my brothers to claim her as mine, by the time we were leaving the shed to join the party, I hadn’t really thought about it at the time, just wanted her around me, talk to me, get to know her better, staking a claim, seemed to be the only way, my pea brain could come up with. It worked; the patch members nodded, gave me the thumbs up, and sent other signals during the night that they had seen the claim and approved 1.
Now, she was in my bedroom, having looked around, nodding and smiling at different things. I tried to look at my room through her eyes, but I couldn’t see it any differently than it was a clean man’s room. It had my smell, the bed cover and pillows, even the mate was a gift for Christmas or a birthday from pack members or wannabe girls of my past, before that day when my life changed.
Watching her strip had me almost soiling myself; it almost hurt, it was that hard. The desire to have her was higher than what was comfortable; this was beyond insane: No chick had gotten under my skin like she has.
But my shaft didn’t care; it wanted attention from a female for the first time in months. I hadn’t even given myself a hand job in ages -maybe that was why I was so hard now. When a girl managed to make me hard, I would finish it off in the bathroom, but that had become less and less over the years. I can count on one hand how often I have had a woman suck my shaft since that fateful night. No one gets to touch it but me.
The shy girl, climbing into my bed, felt wrong; this was not the girl had just spent hours with, the confident, vivacious woman who could beat me with smart comebacks. Why suddenly so shy, no wait.
Could she be a virgin?
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.