by Malone, M.
When I open my eyes, Tank is watching me.
It’s an odd thing to look at someone this close up. His dark hair is spiked up all over his head and his eyes are still heavy with sleep. He doesn’t try to pretend like he’s not looking either. His eyes take in the full image of my face and what I’m sure must be messy hair then down to where my breasts mold against the thin fabric of the T-shirt I borrowed.
Most of the girls who wait tables at the Black Kitty are used to these types of looks from men. Guys aren’t that picky, especially when beer goggles are involved.
They all do the same thing, squint as they picture what’s under your clothes and then there’s that slightly glazed over look as they imagine what they’d do to you. It’s usually the grossest feeling ever.
But with Tank, it’s different. My body reacts immediately, my nipples blooming and pressing against the fabric. His gaze is like a touch, it awakens every one of my nerve endings. Heat blooms out from my core and spreads throughout me.
Within moments I’m completely wet and ready for him.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I whisper.
When his eyes raise to mine, I see the answering desire there. There’s a tension in his big body that tells me he can deliver on every inch of the promise his eyes are making.
“Good morning, buttercup.”
He kisses me softly, one hand sliding into my hair to cup my head. I’m so shocked that I don’t do anything at first. Then he kisses me again and my hands drift up to his hair. I curl my fingers through the thick strands. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat.
He likes that.
I pull him down on top of me and then my hands are in his hair again. He’s so warm and everything about this feels so right. Waking up, sleepy and soft with this gorgeous hunk of man in my bed.
He shifts, allowing the full weight of his big body to press me into the mattress. It’s all chemical, the insanely seductive way he smells, the erotic taste of his tongue in my mouth and the ache between my legs as he presses right up against my core.
I’m burning up and surely he can feel it.
My arms wrap around his shoulders and trace over the muscles that flex under my touch.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he mumbles. “But I’m no angel and you are so beautiful.”
He inches down, his lips leaving soft kisses on my neck, my breastbone, then my stomach where the shirt I borrowed has ridden up. I squirm beneath the soft touches, especially as they get lower. His tongue dips into my belly button and then bites the swell below gently. I shudder under the assault, my hips pressing up with a will of their own.
He looks up at me, his eyes so dark and intense they look black. Then his head dips and his mouth settles over my sex.
“Tank!”
I cry out again as he nips me through the fabric of my panties. He grabs the sides and pulls them down. The slide of the fabric against my skin is so erotic, especially when he sits back slightly and then looks at what’s between my legs like he’s never seen anything he wants as much.
His eyes fall closed and he takes a deep inhale. “I want your taste.”
“Yes, please.”
I can’t even think let alone understand anything he’s saying. All I can see is that intense look in his eyes.
He settles himself between my knees, his big body pushing my legs out to make room for him. It’s the most shameless feeling, being in his bed with my legs spread. But I’m not sure how much shame I have left, whatever I started with slowly dissolving as his mouth moves faster.
I can’t do anything except splinter into a million pieces as his hands cup my ass, pulling me forward for each thrust of his tongue.
I’m still shivering when he kisses my belly and then my neck. As he settles on top of me again, I soften beneath him, ready for him to strip my shirt off and finally have me completely naked. He kisses me and I can taste myself on his tongue. It just makes me hotter, sends my desire skyrocketing. I’m ready for him to make me come while he takes me.
There’s nothing I want more than to watch those incredible eyes as he finds his own pleasure.
I’m mindless and I want him to do something, anything that will put me out of this misery. But even as I arch under him, pressing upward, rubbing myself against him, he’s slowing things down.
The frantic coupling of our tongues changes to soft, suctioning kisses. His hands slide under my bottom but not to pull me closer, to hold me still.
“Tank, please.”
It should embarrass me that I’m essentially begging. But I’ve never felt this before, this all-consuming heat. This blinding desire to have him inside me.
I’ve wanted men before but I’ve never felt this out of control. This needy.
“So sweet,” he mutters. “So damn sweet.”
He rolls to the side and pushes his face into the pillow next to me. I can hear his gasping breaths and I can definitely feel the iron-hard rod pressing against my thigh.
What I don’t understand is why he’s stopped?
Then as my heart rate slows down some, my reason returns. I put a hand over my mouth.
I just dry humped him like I was in heat.
“I’ll get out of here so you can get ready.”
He pulls back and rolls over, presenting me with his back. I watch as he stands and then pulls on his jeans.
Then he’s gone.
* * *
After texting Ivy, I grab a change of clothes from my bag and the towel that Tank gave me last night and barricade myself in the bathroom.
My hair is a wild tangle and I have little smudges of mascara beneath my eyes. I’m suddenly really grateful to Sasha for offering me her makeup remover last night.
Clearly I didn’t get it all but I hate to think of how bad I’d look this morning if I had gone to sleep in full war paint.
I splash my face with water and then run my damp hands through my hair, trying to finger comb the tangles. This is the most awkward thing I’ve ever experienced.
How do you handle a morning after that isn’t really a morning after?
Tank has now seen me with mascara trailing down my cheeks and hair that’s snarled into a bird’s nest of knots and we haven’t even gone on a date.
I don’t have time for a long shower so I jump in and scrub at lightning speed. There’s a new toothbrush below the sink which I make use of and then do my best to slap some color into my cheeks. The makeup I wore yesterday was a lot heavier than the kind I have in my bag so I’ll have to make do.
There’s a soft knock at the door.
“Emma? Let me know when you want me to take you home.”
“Uh, just a second.”
God, this is embarrassing. I don’t regret what happened this morning but it’s definitely awkward since we’re not dating. Or even friends.
Now I’m supposed to talk to him like nothing happened?
After one last glance in the mirror, I open the door. Tank has dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. He looks edible.
Almost as edible as the bagel he’s holding out to me.
I snatch it and take a huge bite.
He chuckles. “Yeah, I thought you might be hungry.”
I’m slightly appalled at the way I attacked him for his food but I’m too hungry to care.
“Starving. I didn’t eat breakfast yesterday and my lunch was just a salad.”
“What happened to dinner? This is why you need to go out with me. Clearly you don’t understand the importance of the last meal.”
I can’t help but laugh. His determination is impressive. Plus, he has a point. But I can’t think about that now.
“Anyway, I don’t need a ride. My sister is coming to pick me up.”
He’s watching me carefully and it’s obvious this is just as awkward for him as it is for me. I’m glad he doesn’t know what to say either.
It would be worse if he was completely blasé about waking up with a random chick in his bed.
My phone beeps. “That’s probably her now.”
I check the message and see that Ivy is waiting in front of the building. Of course my sister is on time for something the one time I wish she was a little late.
“I’ve got to go. My sister is out front.”
I walk back to his room to gather my clothes from yesterday and fold them into my messenger bag.
Tank grabs his keys off the table near the front door. We ride down the elevator together in silence. Ivy is parked right in front of the building, illegally blocking in several cars.
When she sees Tank, she rolls down the window and stares at him shamelessly. Her eyes widen when she gets a good look at him. The broad shoulders, the muscles. The sexily rumpled hair.
Crap. I need to get out of here before she says something inappropriate.
“If you ever need another rescue or anything, let me know,” Tank says, his dark eyes fixed on my face as he speaks.
I nod, not sure what to say to that. We aren’t dating and we’re not friends.
Why would I call him?
It was pure luck he happened to be there last night and that was more for Sasha’s benefit than mine.
“Thanks again, Tank. For everything.”
I give a little awkward wave and then hitch my messenger bag over my shoulder.
Ivy leans across the seat and pushes the passenger side door open. She opens her mouth to speak but Tank has already gone back into the building.
“What the hell, Emma? I heard you come in last night but then when I woke up this morning, you were gone.”
“Sorry, yesterday was crazy. A fight broke out at the club and Lattimer has been out of control lately so Sasha has a friend who intervened. Unfortunately, we still got fired.”
“I warned you Paul was bad news. What did you expect working at that trashy club?”
“Thanks, Ivy. Way to blame the victim.”
“I’m sorry, Em. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course it’s not your fault.”
I let out a sigh. Ivy doesn’t understand anything I do but I don’t understand her choices any better. She seems to think dating a rich man solves all problems.
As if she heard my thoughts, she continues. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Jon has a friend I think would be perfect for you. He’s cute, too. You should let me fix you up.”
“No way. I know you like Jon and he gives you nice gifts but that’s not me, Ivy. I don’t judge you but that’s just not what I want out of life. I earn my own way. Do you remember how Mom used to give us those lectures before we went out on dates?”
Ivy’s face softens. “Get your own drinks. Pay your own way. And always have a way home. Then she’d get that look and I’d know another sex talk was coming.”
“Yeah. She was so proud of you when you went to college.”
Thinking about my mom always makes me a little sad but I want to be able to remember her without always seeing her the way she was at the end. Scared.
Ivy grips the steering wheel tighter. “Yeah.”
“She was so excited for me when I got that scholarship. She was almost more excited than I was. I wonder what she’d think of what I’m doing now. I guess she wouldn’t be—“
“I can’t talk about this with you!” Ivy shrieks.
The sudden outburst shocks me and the tears that have built up behind my eyelids suddenly spill over.
She’s the only one with these same memories but she won’t talk to me about our parents. Ever. She won’t talk about them at all.
After riding in silence for a few minutes, Ivy glances over at me.
“Look, all I want is for you to be taken care of. Now you’re dating this guy? I recognize him from the law office. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was some kind of criminal. Seriously, Emma? It’s time for you to stop playing around and get serious.”
It’s tempting to tell her just how wrong she is. She recognizes Tank but obviously never paid attention to his last name. If she knew how much money I’ve been offered to cozy up to Tank, she’d be all over me about it.
Or she’d be all over Tank. Just the thought of that makes me itch.
“I am being serious. I still have my day job and I’m taking care of myself. I was just trying to earn extra money to save up for tuition faster but it’s okay. I’ll get the money another way.”
“I hate to say this Emma but you need to face facts. We’re alone now. There’s no one to help us if we mess up. I’ll try to help you but the things you used to wish for just aren’t possible now.”
“What are you talking about? There’s still the money Mom and Dad left each of us. I was hoping to get more grants so I wouldn’t have to use any of that but since I didn’t, I don’t have a choice. That’s what they would have wanted anyway.”
Her hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Oh Emma.”
Something about the way she says it has me immediately on edge. “What? What’s wrong now?”
She glances over at me and then back to the road.
“Things were really hard after Mom and Dad died. The economy is bad and everybody is struggling. I didn’t have any choice.”
Even though my logical mind can see where this is going, I’m not ready to believe it. After everything else that has happened today I just can’t handle hearing that all my college fund money is gone.
“How could it all be gone? What the hell, Ivy?”
“Don’t blame me. You wanted to eat too, didn’t you? Maybe you won’t look down on me so much now that you understand how hard it’s been. You’re an adult now and I can’t keep shielding you from the truth. Reality is that we’re broke. And broke people don’t have the luxury of always staying on the straight and narrow because that doesn’t keep food on the table. If school is what you want, you’re going to have to be more aggressive. Figure out how to take what you want.”
My conversation with Mr. Maxwell floats through my mind. It seemed like such a seedy thing at the time. But in the end, how is it any worse than working at a strip club?
Or what Ivy does, targeting rich men and seducing them? At least it’s not illegal and doesn’t involve me taking my clothes off.
Even though I technically had some of my clothes off earlier.
I shake my head to dispel the image of Tank’s bare chest. Last night was an anomaly.
Going forward, I won’t be waking up in Tank’s bed. There’s no harm in inviting him out for the day and spending a little time with him. I can tell him about my visits with his dad, put in a good word and then let fate take care of the rest.
Because Ivy is right. The money for my tuition isn’t going to come from thin air.
And million dollar job offers don’t come around very often.
Chapter Eight
Tank
I don’t have a lot of boundaries. This has gotten me into trouble a time or two in the past.
As I throttle my bike and merge onto the highway, it occurs to me that running a background check on my brothers may have been a mistake. One of them seems to have no online identity at all but the other two were easy to find.
Showing up out of the blue to meet them is probably a dick move but in the end, I decide it’s worth the risk.
I’ve had enough of surprises.
After Emma left, I couldn’t seem to settle down. It’s been a week and her smell still lingers throughout my place, even after I stripped the sheets. There was nowhere to go that I could escape from thoughts of her.
That night was supposed to be about protecting her but instead it just fed my fascination.
When she was there, I was calm. Ever since my mom got her cancer diagnosis, I’ve felt out of control. Sleep is elusive and I haven’t been able to find any productive way to channel the energy.
When I was younger, I got into fights all the time. It was the only way to release the pent up anger I felt. After getting suspended multiple times, I’d come home to see my mom crying. She was overwhelmed working all the time and try
ing to figure out how to keep us boys out of trouble.
It was a wakeup call to see that I wasn’t the only one struggling with feelings I couldn’t control.
I wasn’t the only one who felt like I was drowning.
After that, I quit fighting at school and worked hard to be the best son I could be. I made a pact to never see my mother cry again. But she cried when she told me the cancer was back.
And she cried when she told me that the chemo wasn’t working.
Now, every time I get news I can’t handle, I go out looking for trouble and I always find it. Some would say it’s okay because at least I’m only picking fights with the scumbags of the world.
I’m sure some of the people I’ve saved might agree.
But the thing is, I don’t know if I can stop. I’ve come to crave it, the violence, the release of my anger. It’s the only thing that soothes me.
Except for Emma.
She's always so still and perfect, like a sculpture you're not supposed to touch. When she looks at me, something calms inside as if I’m at peace. I feel corny even thinking that so I focus on the road.
Two of my brothers, Gabriel and Zachary, run an auto repair shop in the city of West Haven. I park my bike out front and send an admiring glance at the Harley Night Rod directly in front of the door. I look up at the sign. G&Z Motors.
This is the place.
The bell over the door tinkles merrily as I enter the shop. The television in the reception area broadcasts some reality show about tattooing.
A man straightens behind the counter. He has dark hair like mine. Dark eyes like mine.
“Can I help you?”
The name tag on his breast pocket reads Gabe but I know who he is before he even speaks. I was sure on the way here this was the right move but now that he’s standing in front of me, I’m not sure what to say.
He stares back at me staring at him for a full minute before he speaks. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” he says finally.
I don’t need to ask what he means.
Tons of things went through my mind on the way here but not that he could look like me. But he does. Even more so than Finn.