by Nicole Snow
I bumped against the door, gasping for badly needed air. God, just having him this close, this intense, smothered everything except the fire pulsing in my blood. The way he was looking at me threatened all my breath, dark tiger eyes set in a man's face.
“There's three parts to claiming an old lady,” Tank said. “One's a warning and a flash of fists, letting every asshole in the whole damned world know they're going to get fucked up if they get an inch too close to what's mine. Two, I get my brand on your beautiful ass. You're gonna look great wearing my patch and my ink on your skin, Em. Fuck, I'll put it there myself. Tomorrow. No more wasted days. Every one with you has got my whole fucking world from now on.”
I looked up slowly, trying not to melt underneath his gaze. “What's number three?”
“I hold you to the wall and fuck your brains out 'til you can't stop screaming, babe. I'm gonna make sure everybody hears your moans over all the rock and dirty jokes behind these walls. I want every man in spitting distance to know your ass is mine forever, and only one dick in the world knows how to work that sweet pussy right. You're gonna lose your voice screaming my name over and over and over, making up for all the time we've wasted without you wrapped around every horny inch of me.”
Holy, holy shit. I was breathless, embarrassed, and yes, red as the sun. Not to mention totally, phenomenally turned on.
He wanted his brothers to hear us? Brothers, old ladies, whores? Crap!
I scratched at his neck, mouthing his name weakly, trying to change his mind. I wasn't ready to put on a show, though it seemed kinda hot in my heart's naughtiest spot.
“Tank, I –“
No dice. As soon as he leaned in and licked up the nook of my neck, it was all over. I rocked back against the door frame, moaning as he tugged at my shirt and slid his smooth tongue over my skin. Then I gasped, louder, when his other hand circled down, cupping my ass for a possessive squeeze.
Before Tank, I was never ravished. I never thought I'd give myself up and totally surrender to a man, following him into filthy, devilish things good girls didn't do.
I never thought I'd become another Emma, reshaped by his wicked mind and non-stop fire. Never thought I'd lose my sanity in his sin, every tattooed granite inch of what he offered.
But there I was, kissing him back as he pillaged my body, crushing my breasts flat against his chest and pinning me to the door. The wood bobbed gently in its frame each time I arched back, and there was a lot of that after his hand slipped into my jeans, skipping my panties. He found my wetness and shoved two fingers in, circling my soaked heat, claiming what was his.
“Oh, fuck. You've missed this shit as much as me, haven't you, babe?”
A low, deep moan was my only response. His thumb brushed my clit and my whole body jerked. My lips popped open, a rictus of pure pleasure, solidifying in a rosy ring as his pressure circled my nub.
“It's only been about a week,” I teased.
Tank reached one hand to my jeans and pulled. My open belt slapped my thighs as they fell to my ankles.
“Far too fucking long. From now on, we're fucking every week, every damned night if that's what it takes to remind you where you belong.”
He didn't need to say it. Underneath him, I thought, shuddering as he swirled his fingers inside me, heavier than before.
His strokes were coming faster, shallower, matching the circles around my clit. Everything he did was amazing, but I really needed him inside me. If he wanted to throw me against this door and make me scream, then I had to have his dick.
I reached to his bulge and squeezed. Jesus, he was hard, ready to bust right though his fly.
One pinch was all it took. Tank's face was dead serious as he stared at me. I flicked my tongue against my lips, licking them like the filthy wildcat in heat I'd become.
Tank ripped at my shirt. I was surprised nothing was shredded as it went flying off my head, same as my jeans. He only stopped for a second to admire the new lingerie I had underneath it.
His wolf whistle reverberated in my ears. “Fuck, baby girl. Did you plaster that pretty lace on just to beg me to fuck you harder? 'Cause that's what it's telling me to do. Hard, relentless, no holding back...shit. I don't wanna break you.”
His hips rolled forward. Removing his hand, the big bulge in his jeans brushed my wet panties, already soaked from the heat steaming between us.
Tank pulled me away from the door, tight against his chest, driving his tongue against mine again and again.
My moans were coming in waves now. Hot, erratic, flaming with desire. I opened my eyes wide and stood on my toes, tilting my head against his.
“Please. I need you.”
Next thing I heard was his belt buckle clanking as it went off. His pants dropped and he kicked them off, same as his boots. The cut and shirt fell last, and then his hands were on me again, jerking my panties down my legs.
He squeezed my breasts through the bra as he got behind me. His thick cock rubbed up and down, nestling between my ass cheeks, full and ready.
“I'll take that plump little ass someday, babe. Right now, I'm gonna remind your pussy what it needs. Bite down and put your hands against the door. I don't care if you rattle that fucking thing off its hinges. We're fucking right now, and we're not stopping 'til my nuts are dry and your clit can't hum another beat.”
In one thrust, he was inside me. Tank rutted deep, pulling out before he swung forward again. My hips jerked against his. His hands tightened on my breasts, holding me in place, snug against him for the savage, delirious intimacy we craved.
He filled, stretching my tender flesh as he pounded.
Harder, deeper, faster.
My pussy lost control after just a few more thrusts.
Maybe I was responding to the fear I'd have to wait years to feel this again. Or maybe I was just that wanton, that stupidly horny, addicted to his flesh.
Whatever. I came, and that was all that mattered, flattening my palms against the door as every muscle in my body seized up.
“Tank! John!” I said his real name, desperate to fuck and feel every part of the man inside me.
Tank pinched my breasts hard when he heard it. One popped out of its cup and fell into his hand, the tender nipple catching between his rough fingers.
He growled in my ear as I started to scream. “We both know what I'm called. Don't give a shit what name you choose, just as long as you're feeling it, fire in your pussy so hot you can't groan another word.”
Oh! Oh! Oh, shit! My brain sank into an orgasmic coma.
I came hard, sucking his dick deep inside me, begging for his come. He reached up, fisted my hair, and pressed me tighter to the door, sealing the space beneath us.
I was halfway through coming when I heard several loud male voices outside. Two brothers were heading for the bathroom on the other side of the hall. When they heard me coming, they stopped, listening as I moaned and whimpered in his hands while my pussy gushed all over him.
“Shit, Stone. You hear the kinda benefits a man gets when he earns the patch?” Smokey laughed, so close I swore his face was only a couple inches from the door.
“All the more reason to hurry it the fuck up. I hope they vote us in soon. This club's gonna need extra guys on hand if things go to hell.”
“Let's not talk about that. Come on. Let the big guy have the homecoming he deserves. The man's been through enough for both of us. The brothers are gonna shit when they see what we just pulled in from the garage...”
A door creaked open and the voices disappeared. Tank had only slowed his strokes, and he picked up again when they were gone, railing into me with shallower, faster thrusts while my sex recharged for another release.
“You hear that, babe?” he whispered, pulling on my hair. “There are men who'd kill for what we've got. This is fucking special, and we'll keep fucking 'til we never, ever forget it.”
I moaned as his cock hammered deeper. His free hand went around my stomach, jerked me to him, and
toyed with my clit while his hip sped up. Soon, I was bucking back against him, my sex drunk brain trying to remember his words.
Special was too weak a word. This was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. Tonight, things were perfect, beautifully tuned to the want and need and love conquering every inch of us. Maybe tomorrow would be different, but tonight was ours, just Tank and I fused together.
His breaths were falling against my neck a minute later, heavy as dragon's smoke. I was on the edge when he jerked, muscles coiling up behind me, the rattle in his throat exploding while his fingers pinched my clit.
He smashed into me one more time and held it. I gasped as he swelled, exploding a second later. Jet after jet of his fiery come hurled up into me, brilliant as shooting stars, the deepest gift his flesh could give.
The heat – God! The unbearable, unstoppable heat!
It pulsed through my whole body, curling in my fingers and toes and flashing up to my head, swarming me in pulsing bliss. My cunt bored down on him and clenched tight, milking him with all its might, making me come apart as my orgasm wrapped its rough hand around my throat and refused to let go.
We were a hot, sweaty, sticky mess by the time the fire simmered lower. He pulled out, leaving a long rope of seed trickling down my thigh. I reached down and rubbed it, moaning when I sensed his heat.
His arm went around my belly and twirled me around to face him. More kisses came, deeper and hotter than before, savoring the moment.
“Fuck, babe. I'm never gonna stop loving this. Don't give a shit if I'm so damned wrinkled someday I can't see my own ink. Long as I'm up against you, feeling that heart beat through your skin, I've got everything I need. All the fucking love that matters.”
Finally, it was my heart's turn to throb. For the strong, silent type, Tank really had a way with words when he got passionate. I smiled like a glowing prom date into his next kiss.
“I love you too,” I whispered, my voice shaking a little as I said it.
Tank's face was serious again, but his eyes were smiling. He jerked me up across his shoulder and let our clothes pile together. We were heading for the bed, and I knew it was going to shriek a lot louder than the old door by the time we were done with it.
Too bad. With this beautiful man, anywhere was good. I didn't care if he screwed me in the dirt as long as my limbs were twined with his, taking him deep inside me.
We fucked hard and long for the next couple hours. It felt like half the night had passed by the time we were finished, sweaty and exhausted. Damn, I needed a shower before we showed up at the party.
Tank got up first and threw on his pants. “Gonna go get us some water, babe. Prison water's shit, and I'm thirsty. Plus my throat feels like a fucking wasp crawled down it after all that hard work.”
I laughed. If it was work, then it was the best labor anybody could imagine.
He had a point. The sex took a lot out of me, leaving me more drained than before after days of worry. It was good just to have him home. I was peaceful, and I started to doze, thinking about getting up later and joining everybody for drinks. Beer sounded like heaven after love and sex.
I screamed when I heard the crash. It sounded like a bunch of glasses had tipped and shattered at once, so loud it shook the door. Tank was roaring my name before he was in the room.
The door burst open just as I sat up, heart racing.
Shit! I knew this was too perfect.
“Emma! Come quick, babe. Need you right now.” He threw the door open and ran over to me, jerking me up on my feet, pushing clothes into my hands.
“What is it? What's wrong?”
“It's Moose. He's having some kinda fucking heart attack or something. You gotta help him.”
I barely had time to throw on my stuff in the rush to get out there. The night was flipped, everything darkening by the minute. Unfortunately, I had an ugly feeling we were about to spend it a hundred and eighty degrees away from the sex and love I imagined, plunged into the blackness that seemed to be the price for loving this man.
Too damned bad. Dark, light, or gray, I wasn't going to stop.
IX: Ambush (Tank)
“What the fuck's wrong with him?” I stood over my aching brother, handing Emma my knife to cut open his shirt.
She wasn't listening to me, and I didn't blame her. She was too busy bent over Moose, feeling for his pulse. His big head lolled back with a vacant stare. Nothing came outta his mouth but, “no, no, no...”
Moose was a heavy dude, even by my standards. Took me and Stinger together to lift him off the floor and onto an empty table. His old lady, Connie, was right by his side, fanning his sweaty face. Same as his teen daughter, Becky, close to being a woman in her own right.
Make that a very worried young woman. Poor thing was sniffling, on the verge of tears.
“Dad! Stay with us!” She leaned to his ear, pulling on the collar of his cut.
There was a huge crash on the empty table next to us. The prospects dumped Emma's tray of medical supplies next to her, and she dug through the mess for the stethoscope.
“Watch where you're going with that shit,” I warned. “Our brother doesn't need any more shocks in his state.”
Smokey and Stone both mouthed apologies. Em had his shirt torn open now, pressing the cool metal circle to his chest, right above his gut. The whole party came to a dead stop with everybody gathered around us. I made damned sure they kept their distance. Nobody but officers, Emma, and family were allowed at the table.
“I don't understand,” Emma said, shaking her head. “Heartbeat seems fine. A little fast...nothing erratic.”
Moose's eyes snapped open. Creepy as shit, like something had crawled up inside him and taken control. His thick arms reached up, grabbed her shoulders, breaking away from his family.
“Nurse...it hurts like fuck...I –“
Another crash behind me. I spun, and my jaw almost hit the fucking floor.
Blaze was on the ground, rolled up in a fetal position, clutching his stomach. Saffron screamed, ran forward, and was on him in a second.
“Baby, what's wrong?”
Adrenaline ripped through my system. I turned to Stinger, only to see the VP struggling to hold himself up next to Moose, his hands pressed tight to the table. He was hunched over, and he looked at me as he lost control, dropping to his knees.
Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!
More screams and commotion in the crowd. Reb went down, and so did several girls who'd come to party with the single brothers. Marianne flopped down on the floor, cursing like a banshee between her teeth.
Emma looked panicked, but she stayed at Moose's side, desperately taking her measurements, asking him questions. I went to Blaze, pushed my way through Saffron's hold. She pulled back reluctantly, gripping his hand with white knuckles.
“What the fuck's happening, Prez? What's wrong?”
“Ah...my goddamned guts...bastards are on fucking fire...”
Poison. It had to be. There wasn't any fucking room for coincidence with brothers and whores dropping like flies.
But where the fuck was the source?
For a second, I had a horrific worry there was toxic gas in the air. I stepped over Roller, twitching on the floor. He vomited as soon as I was through, loud and gagging. Fuck, as much as I wanted to make sure he didn't choke on his own puke, I had to get the doors open.
I ripped open the doors and windows in bar, eager to get fresh air in here, and then came back. Moose and Blaze were looking paler by the second, the pain in their guts contorting their faces like Halloween masks.
Only the prospects and a few girls were still standing, gawking over all the sick. I rushed up to Smokey and Stone.
“What the fuck happened out here while we were in our room? It's not the air, or we'd all be dropping by now. Where the fuck's the food and drink, and where did it come from?”
Stone shrugged. “Picked up everything from the store and the bottle shop, same as always.”
“One
difference,” Smokey said. “Package from Cassandra came this afternoon. Twenty big bottles. There was a little note attached. Stone and set the shit at the bar and Saffron cracked it open, started serving it...”
Fuck! Well, that explained why the only ones who'd dropped were the ones who poured that shit into their system. But why the fuck would the mother charter send poisoned whiskey?
I ran to Emma. She was struggling with a bottle, funneling some vile black shit into Moose's mouth.
“He needs to barf this up,” she said. “They all do. Jesus, there's so many, Tank. I need help.” She reached for her phone and started to dial.
“It's poison, babe. Some shit in the whiskey. What do you need? Is there an antidote?” Fuck, I couldn't hide my worry. I knew all about toxins in the military, but I wasn't a fucking doctor. Didn't have a clue how to cure it.
Poison was one thing we'd never dealt with in this club, and now we had at least a dozen cases twitching on the floor, way too many for Em to handle alone.
“Just keep them breathing. Help them vomit when they need to. Get some water flowing into their systems. Damn!” She tore herself away from Moose and moved to Blaze. “I just don't have enough hands, or enough supplies. I need Linda...”
I stood up, snapped my fingers. Relaying Emma's orders to the prospects, we worked like the devil to make sure nobody went unconscious. I kept Sangria off Marianne and told a few other transient sluts to do the same. Even pulled in Alice from the corner where she sulked.
The girl was wide eyed and freaked out as fuck, but she did her job. She figured out real fast I was calling the shots, with zero tolerance for any bullshit.
She made the rounds, checking just about everybody except Stinger. For some reason, the bitch wouldn't get close to him. If it weren't so goddamned serious, I would've smiled, thankful Em and I had left that cat and mouse game behind.
Several brothers wretched. We tried to guide them away and keep them from choking as they expelled the crap from their systems in buckets. The whole clubhouse was gonna stink like bad whiskey and putrid medicine for a long time after this mess was cleaned up. But it was a small price to pay if everybody made it out safe.