Tank

by Erin Bevan

  Though thankful he didn’t have to repeat his past twice in one day, a burning sensation he hadn’t felt in years still torched the back of his eyes. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She didn’t want his horrid past. He stared into her eyes, the tiny blood vessels turning a bright red.

  “You don’t have to go in to detail. I understand.” She reached a hand to his cheek. “That’s why you learned to climb trees isn’t it. To hide from your father?”

  “Yes. And it’s why I break out into a sweat when I see someone in a uniform. He was a security guard. To this day, I still suffer from what he did to me. Sometimes I have nightmares of him coming after me. I had one on the couch with you that night we fell asleep watching Batman. I woke, terrified. I was so glad you didn’t stir. I didn’t know how to explain myself.”

  “Is that why you were so testy earlier? Afraid I’ll see one of your nightmares.”

  “Yeah, partially. And I’m afraid I could hurt you while I have one.”

  She removed her hand from his cheek and clasped hers together. “Oh. I understand.”

  Her brows creased. Realization of what he was saying seemed to sink in her features, and he wasn’t even done.

  “That letter you saw in my mailbox, they’re from him,” he confessed.

  “Your dad?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you said he was dead?”

  “To me he is. I don’t want to have anything to do with him ever again, but he sends a letter every week. I don’t know what he wants, and I don’t care.”

  “What about your mother? Did he abuse her, too?”

  “No.” Tank shook his head. “She had no idea. But the minute she found out, she whisked me away to my grandfather’s for safety…and my father got twenty-five years.”

  He stepped back from her and turned toward the water. This was it for them. The end before a beginning. Two fat drops fell down his cheeks. He wiped them away before she could see.

  “Annie, I can understand if you want to stay with JoJo, or if you want Sandi to take you back to my place. I’ll stay here until you decide where you want to go. Truth is, I’m broken, and I know you don’t want to add my past to your pain.”

  Her gentle, yet sure grip squeezed his shoulder. “Tyler.”

  He kept his gaze on the lake, trying to push his pain down.

  “Tyler, look at me.” She stepped in front of him. Tears hung in her eyes. “I would never walk away from you because of your pain.” She placed a palm on his cheek. “And I’m not scared to sleep in the same space as you. I’ve suffered some of the worst abuse imaginable, too. I know you would never harm me on purpose. Let me help you like you’ve helped me. We can take precautions, set up a pillow barricade or something if it will make you feel better.”

  Pillows. Would that be enough? “I don’t know, Annie. I couldn’t handle harming you. I care for you too much.”

  “I know, Tyler, and the truth is…I’ve fallen for you, too.” A tear fell down her cheek.

  His heart bounced. He gripped her hand holding his face and used his other to wipe the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “So, you’re not…you don’t want to leave? Are you sure?”

  “No, silly.” A small, beautiful smile framed her face. “If anything, what you’ve told me makes me want to be with you more.”

  “Oh, Annie.” Tank wrapped her in a sweeping hug and squeezed, her giggles floating in the air. Setting her back on her feet, he said, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve never cared for anyone the way I care for you.”

  “I understand.”

  He leaned in, ready to take her lips between his, when a few catcalls came from around the bend.

  “Hey, love birds, we’re making dinner,” Father hollered. “Better come eat before it’s all gone.”

  Tank let out a low growl, while Annie let out another giggle.

  She raised a hand. “Okay, we’re coming.”

  “Hasn’t that old man ever heard of a cellphone?”

  “The reception probably isn’t very great out here.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  As he pulled her closer, heat seared his body, trailing a hot pool of blood straight to his groin. She leaned up, and placed a feather-soft kiss on his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. Safety, security, he had both wrapped in her arms, and she in his. He would make sure his dreams never harmed her. Even if he had to lie on Father’s couch and work through his demons out loud, he would.

  “Tyler,” she whispered against his skin.

  Little Tank pulsed faster at her low tone.

  “Yeah.” He groaned.

  “You owe me a s’mores.” She pinched his stomach as she pulled back and raced up the trail, Alfred trailing behind her.

  The moon’s glimmer on the lake replaced that of the sun’s. Tank sat on the log, tossing pieces of kindle on the campfire. Footsteps crunched the earth behind him.

  “Hold this, will ya?” Annie handed him another plate of s’mores makings. She’d changed her jeans for some drawstring pants, and her hair hung in a loose braid off one shoulder. Her shirt—a size too big—made easy invitation for him to slip a hand up her torso.

  Stop it, Wilde. You’re thinking with the wrong head.

  He took the plate and turned away. They mentioned they cared for each other, but they hadn’t gone that far. Not yet. Still, he couldn’t help imagine the feel of her soft skin against his.

  He stared at the plate. Food. Food was a safe topic.

  “How can you be hungry? You ate two burgers at dinner. Not including your burger at lunch.”

  Annie spread a blanket out beside the fire. “I’m not, but I will always have room for s’mores.” She picked up a nearby stick and stuck the tip in the flame.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Killing any ants. Nothing worse than having an ant share your dessert with you.”

  There wasn’t a graham cracker in the world that could cure his hankering for her dessert right now, nor an ant that could stop him. He didn’t want what was on that plate.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” He shifted. Suddenly, the log had become extremely uncomfortable.

  She sat on the blanket, her feet curled under her legs, and a slip of her tattoo popped out. She patted the spot beside her.

  He bit back a groan and slid down to sit next to her. He would let her make the moves. No way would he move faster than she was willing. He would not mess this up.

  “Would you like me to make you one?” Annie reached for a marshmallow.

  “Sure.”

  She slid two candies over the stick and began to swirl the sugar in the fire. Just when he thought the marshmallow would fall onto the embers below, she pulled it back. “Grab the crackers and chocolate.”

  He caught one candy with a cracker, and then quickly reached for the other before it fell off the stick.

  “Here. I’ll help you.” She placed the stick on the ground and sandwiched the white goo between the chocolate and graham wafers.

  “You look like you’ve had practice with that.”

  “Yeah.” A sheepish smile touched her lips, the fire casting a soft glow on her face. “Me and my dad.” She held up her dessert sandwich. “This was another one of our things. He was all outdoorsy, while my mom was the artsy type. She would sit outside and paint the scenery while he taught me how to fish. Sometimes, we would go camping, and s’mores were a must.” She dived into her treat.

  Living out in the woods was something she’d done in the past. Perhaps bad cellphone and cable reception weren’t deal breakers for her, and being cooped up in his home had more to do with her situation than the location of his cabin. Annie seemed to like and miss the outdoors. Maybe she’d be willing to get back to her roots, in his cabin, with him.

  Despite the fact she was living with him now, it wasn’t the same. What he wanted was for her to want to be there, not have to be there. He’d become accustomed to her moose mug in the dish d
rainer, her laundry mixed with his in the wash, and her tantalizing perfume seeping into his bed sheets.

  Don’t think about sheets.

  He stared down at her delicate ankle and pointed to her tattoo. “So, is this the better times you talked about? Would you and your dad star gaze on your camping trips?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “I figured a tattoo of the stars and moon were better than that of a dessert.” She bumped him with her elbow and giggled.

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “I guess you’re right.”

  “But why a tattoo? You have your locket.”

  “I know.” She nodded. “But, I wanted something more permanent, ya know? Just in case anything ever happened.”

  “To your locket.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded again. “Like it almost did.” A flash of sorrow lit her eyes at the mention of her past. “But, what about you?” she changed the subject.

  “What about me?” He bit into his own crackers.

  “Did you have something special with your mom?”

  “Not really. My grandpa and I, we would get donuts and eat out by the dock. His favorite was a bear claw. In fact, the morning I met you at the diner, I saw one in the case. Maybe I should have taken that as an omen.”

  “An omen?”

  “Yeah.” He placed his sandwich on the plate. “In a silly way, maybe it was his way of leading me to you. Pointing me in the right direction. I know, dumb.” He wiped his hands on his jeans; crumbs flaked to the blanket.

  “Hey.” Her pointy elbow nudged his arm. “That’s not dumb. When we get back, we’ll have a bear claw just for him, okay?”

  She understood. Him, his situation, even his crazy way of thinking his Gramps was looking out for him. She got him.

  A smile tugged his lips. “I’d like that.”

  Annie returned his smile, and his limbs went tingly and weak from her acceptance.

  She turned her head back to the fire and finished off her dessert, licking her fingers and leaving behind a string of marshmallow that trailed down her face.

  “You have a little on your chin.”

  “I do?” She smiled, and tried to wipe it away. “They’re always so messy.” She missed the food.

  “Here. Let me.”

  He took the pad of his thumb to wipe the sticky away. Her nature-green eyes stared back at him as her mouth split in a supple part. He caught her gaze and moved his palm up her cheek until the tips of his fingers caressed her hairline. Edible. God, she was edible, just like the marshmallow.

  She leaned in closer, her thigh bumping his, and raked her gaze from his eyes to his mouth. The vein in his neck pounded as his body seemed to get back feeling. No longer weak and tingly, his body ached. Ached with need, ached with lust, just ached for her. And the only cure was with a big dose of Beauty.

  “Annie,” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Their mouths daring to touch, he moved his hand to her braid, and played with the plaited strands. “I want to kiss you.”

  “I want you to kiss me,” she whispered. She gripped his knee, balancing herself.

  “If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from doing other things.”

  “Then don’t stop.”

  His yearning raged at her permission. Wrapping his hand in her hair, he pulled her mouth to his. Quick-fire ignited in his veins, her scent the explosion for his desire, and her tongue the kindling for his groin. He wanted her, all of her, right there on the blanket under the stars.

  He pulled the band out of her hair and let the golden waves fall over her shoulders. “You’re so beautiful.” He moved his mouth to her neck, kissing her silky skin, while tracing the rim of her pajama pants with his fingers. “Do you want to go in the tent?” His fingers burned to pull the barrier down that separated him from her.

  She shifted slightly, allowing him better access to her pants. He placed his hand just under the band, gripping her hip.

  “Ouch.” She gasped and sat up straighter.

  Tank pulled his hand back and stared at her. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to.”

  “No.” She shook her head and laughed. “It was just a rock under the blanket.”

  He stared down at the ground. “God, Annie. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his head. “You deserve a bed, not the hard ground.”

  Damn his lust. What the hell was he doing, trying to take her outside? She deserved better. They hadn’t even started much of a relationship, and he was already messing it up. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He placed a palm down to stand.

  “No.” She gripped his arm. “I want this. I want it right here under the stars with you.” She bit her bottom lip and slid her hand down his arm to grip his. She scooted, pulling him with her. As she lay back on the blanket, her hair, wild and tempting like a sun goddess, framed her face.

  “But Annie, I don’t…I don’t have anything with me.” Good Lord, how far away was the nearest convenient store. He didn’t expect this to happen. He hadn’t come prepared.

  “It’s okay. Sandi slipped a few in my bag while I was back at their campsite.” She pulled his hand harder, inviting him toward her.

  Father.

  Undoubtedly, the man said something to Sandi. “Meddling bastards.”

  “Thank goodness for those meddling bastards. Otherwise, we couldn’t do this.”

  She bit her lip, her body tensed underneath his, and the lusty gaze in her eyes screamed she wanted this as bad as he did. Desire pulsed through him, causing his breath to come out raspy, shaky.

  He skimmed up her body and placed his palms flat on both sides of her head, positioning himself over her. “You’re sure?” Turning back now would be damn near next to impossible, but he wouldn’t pressure her. Her pace. Always.

  She nodded a blessed yes and reached for his hips.

  This is it.

  He stared down at her and stretched for her lips, taking her mouth in his, slow and steady. Her kiss matched his, soft and easy, as a slow moan purred from the back of her throat. His shaft screamed to come loose from its denim prison.

  Hell, the condoms.

  He rose. “Hold those thoughts. Please, hold those thoughts. Where’s your bag?”

  “In the tent.”

  Quicker than he’d ever moved in his entire life, he scrambled inside the tent, and pulled open her bag. Right on top. A fresh box. Few his ass, this was an army’s load, and in the right size. Annie was right. Thank goodness for those meddling bastards.

  He grabbed an extra blanket in case any of those meddling bastards decided to come pay a visit while they enjoyed each other and hurried back to Annie, praying she hadn’t changed her mind in the twenty seconds it took him to retrieve the items.

  She stayed in the same spot, her chest rising in a steady, quickened rhythm, her hair and skin glistening against the firelight.

  Tank dropped the blanket and knelt down to the same position, roving his gaze over her feminine figure, devouring her with his eyes before he could with his mouth. Leaning toward her again, she reached for the back of his neck, and probed his mouth with her tongue as she ran her other hand under his shirt, gently clawing his back.

  The feel of her fingernails on his skin, and her warm mouth, shot another bolt of energy to his groin. He lowered a hand back to the bottom of her T-shirt, and slowly moved his fingers up her torso. His palm met a handful of warm, luscious breast, his fingertips grazing her nipple. He gave the soft flesh a little tap, and she gasped, her body rocking upwards, her center bumping his shaft.

  “Oh, God, Annie. I want you.”

  “Then take me.”

  She pushed on his chest, raising herself to a seated position, and placed her hands on the bottom of her shirt. Following her lead, he helped her raise the cotton over her head and tossed it aside. Two supple mounds stared back at him in the glow of the firelight. Her perk nipples begged to be tasted.

  Placing a hand behind her neck, he lowered her back to the ground, ta
king his time licking from one delicious nub to the other. Her body wiggled beneath him, her back arching, and in that moment he thought his heart might stop.

  He took more of her breast between his lips as he suckled; his manhood throbbed hard against his zipper.

  Don’t blow this, Wilde.

  Slowly, he counted to fifty as he took his time traveling from one hilltop to the next, while she rubbed her fingers in his hair, his scalp tingling from her touch.

  She lowered her hands to his shirt and tugged. “Take this off.”

  Gladly. He wanted—no scratch that, he needed—her body flush with his.

  He rose, obliged her command, tossing his shirt to the side. She placed her hands on his chest, her breast pushing together with the movement of her arms.

  Oh, sweet Jesus.

  He bit his lip…hard, and began counting backwards from fifty.

  “You’re amazing.” The touch of her small hands traveling down his abs tingled his skin.

  “No, Beauty.” He shook his head. “You are.”

  Her eyes glistened a take-me-now shine at the sound of his nickname for her, and she didn’t waste her time reaching for his zipper. While his body ached for release, he wanted her to have pleasure first. She deserved pleasure.

  “Not yet.” He stopped her hands, and pinned them above her head as her breasts bounced a glorious jiggle from the movement.

  Her eyes grew wide, and a ripple of fear overtook him. He immediately eased his grip, worried he’d made the wrong move, too aggressive in his desire. A slow smile parted her lips as she arched her back against his hold. Taking that as his cue, he dove back down and placed his face in her chest, kissing down her ribs to the sacred freckle that had tempted him since their first night together. He continued his trail down to her bellybutton as he toyed with the band of her pants.

  “Take them off.” She raised her hips, allowing him easy access.

  He didn’t have to be told twice. In one swift move, he yanked her pants down, her tantalizing V void of underwear.

  Mercy.

  “No panties?”

  “I never sleep in them.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t even need pajamas…ever again.”