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Tank: A Steel Paragons MC Novel

Page 14

by Eve R. Hart


  The hot spray stung as it hit my skin but I welcomed the feeling. She wasn’t wrong, I was soaking wet and cold. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to walk in the freezing rain then stand there at her door for a long time before I got up the courage to knock.

  I lathered up my hands with the white bar of soap sitting there and I scrubbed every part of my body, almost hating that I was washing her off of me. I shampooed my hair, smiling as the scent that filled the air around me. Not once did I mind that I’d smell like her, because that scent was addicting.

  I got out and dried myself off, then tried my best to cinch the towel around my waist but the damn thing was too small, there was about an inch gap between the two ends. Oh well, not like she hadn’t seen my junk anyway. Giving up, I tossed the wet towel over the shower rod and did the same with my soaked clothes before I exited the bathroom.

  My eyes immediately found her. Her back was to me, her hip resting against the windowsill. She had put on a new shirt as well as panties. Her back straightened when she heard me but didn’t turn around.

  With cautious steps, I walked up to her. This was new territory for me. It had been so long since I’d been around a woman in such a manner. I knew what I felt, what I wanted to do, but would she be receptive to that was the problem I was having. And not to mention the fact that I felt like a dick for using her.

  Saying ‘fuck it’ in my head, I moved behind her. My naked body pressed against her back as I moved her hair off her shoulder and placed a tender kiss on the side of her neck. This was me. I didn’t hide my feelings and I didn’t shy away from my romantic side. If it made me a pussy ass bitch, then so be it.

  My arms snaked their way around her body and I felt her relax into me as I held her close.

  We stood there for a long time, the rain pelting against the dirty glass as the only music for the background. Our breaths melding into one. She let me hold her and I couldn’t deny that she felt good in my arms. I was surprised though, I didn’t think she’d let me that close to her. She seemed like one to shy away from intimacy but her usual cold and calculated demeanor was eased at the moment and it made me fucking smile.

  “Are you naked?” she asked breaking the bubble we were in. I knew she could feel my smile against the crook of her neck. I nipped at the tender flesh.

  “Yep,” I said in a self-assured, yet teasing, tone.

  She tossed her head back and laughed. The beautifully raw sound echoed in the room and vibrated through my body.

  “I’d ask to borrow something,” I said, my breath blowing over her skin causing her to shiver in the sexiest way. “But as sexy as these would look on me, I don’t think they’d hold everything in.” My fingers danced along the edge of her panties.

  “No,” she said shaking her head as her body trembled with another laugh, only this one she was doing her best to hold back. Her body at war with itself, torn between being relaxed and being turned on.

  I continued to tease her flesh just below her panties. My finger moving from the curve of her hip, down around her thigh, then just under her perfectly thick ass cheek.

  “Noah,” she breathed out as her head fell back to rest on my shoulder, her hair tickling my chest.

  I pulled my hand back before it went too far and placed it back around her waist as if it naturally belonged there.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, regret apparent in my tone. I cleared my throat before I continued. “I didn’t…didn’t mean to lose control like that. I don’t know what came over me. I respect you and I never should have…” My words died in my throat. I felt sick and weak.

  “Shhhh,” she whispered as she turned in my arms. “Don’t. Don’t make it something that it wasn’t.”

  She cradled my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over my bushy beard in a tender way. Her lips pressed into mine in a soft kiss. God, I loved her mouth. It felt so warm against mine, so perfect.

  “Come,” she commanded and I found myself loving the way she demanded me around.

  Her hand slipped into mine as she walked us the three steps to the bed. I watched as she slid in and scooted to the far side. There was definitely not enough room for me to fit in the space behind her, but I tried anyway. My ass hung off the edge as I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. My hand fell right above her breast and I could feel the steady beat of her heart against my palm. It lulled me to sleep with ease and I didn’t dare to fight it.

  In the darkness, I felt her slip away from me. Blindly, I reached out to hold her but I was too late. My mind struggled to pull itself out of the best sleep I’d had in a long time. The sound of her bare feet hitting the floor brought me closer to the surface. By the fading sound, I could tell she was headed to the bathroom. Moments later she emerged again and I kept my eyes closed hoping that she would return to the bed and wrap me in her warmth. Only, that didn’t happen. Instead, her steps grew even more distant. The refrigerator door opened and my eyes shot open.

  “Oh, no!” I playfully barked as I all but jumped up out of the bed, taking the sheet with me.

  “What?” she asked in a husky, sleep-laced voice. Fuck it was sexy.

  “I got it,” I said as I struggled to wrap the sheet around my waist while stalking towards her. “You are not allowed in the kitchen.” I smiled and pulled her into me. She came willingly, falling against my chest like it was normal. My fingers tangled in her hair as I bent down to kiss her forehead, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I heard a soft sigh slip out of her mouth.

  “I’m not that bad,” she swatted my stomach and I pretended to flinch with pain.

  “Um, yeah you are. No offense, but I don’t think I can stomach another one of your so-called meals, Angel.” Her face softened at my name for her. I gave her a small smile and nicely slid her out of the way.

  “Fine,” she said with a shrug like she wasn’t even bothered that I’d just called her cooking shit.

  “I don’t even know how you live on your own. How do you survive off of that? Or do you just have no taste buds?” I joked.

  Her arms crossed over her chest, amplifying her amazing cleavage. And yes, my eyes drifted down to take in the sight, thankful that her shirt dipped low in the front.

  “I’m not a big cooker. I usually just eat peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “What? Just peanut butter? No jelly? Or even banana?” My mouth dropped open out of shock. The thought of eating bread slathered only with peanut butter had my mouth turning dry as a desert and a sudden urge to drink a huge glass of milk.

  “Nope. I don’t like jelly. It’s too…sticky, like sugar sticky.” She shuddered like it was the worst thing in the world. I chuckled, finding this new side of her absolutely adorable.

  Something broke last night. Not only in me, but also in her. We were on some new level and I wanted to explore it further. I wanted her to keep her guard down around me. I felt desperate to know the woman hidden behind the hard mask and I wondered if she was even aware of the new change. I only feared that if she realized it that she would freak out and run from me.

  “Tell me something,” she said as she settled into the chair across the room.

  I moved about, searching for something I could make with the limited ingredients she had in her place. There wasn’t much, but there was definitely a huge jar of peanut butter and a fresh loaf of wheat bread. I shook my head and pulled out eggs and bacon. I debated on showing her what real eggs tasted like but thought better of it. I didn’t want to be too mean. I opted for French toast instead, knowing I could whip it up pretty quickly.

  “I grew up surrounded by incredible women. My mom is strong as well as kind. I have three sisters. I’m the only boy.” I kept my eyes on the task at hand as I spoke. Talking about them had me missing all of them like crazy. I’d been a pretty shitty brother and son all these months.

  It hit me then, instead of running, I should have stayed. I should have realized sooner that I was surrounded by love and that I had people who’d be there for me through
the bad times. And not to mention that they were feeling the same hurt and loss that I was.

  “Really? Your sisters, are they older or younger?” she asked in a light tone. She wanted to know more about me and I fucking smiled at that.

  “Two older, one younger. Cresta is thirty-one. Darcy is thirty. Then there is me. And Veda’s the baby at twenty-one.” Cresta, Darcy, and I were close together in age. With the almost seven-year difference between Veda and me, I often wondered if she was an accident. A welcomed one, but still one. Or maybe it could have been that my parents just needed to take a break. After all, three kids was a lot to handle, and I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to add another.

  “What about your dad?”

  I set the spatula down for a moment. There was no denying that my dad was somewhat of a sore subject with me. I often ran between love and hate when it came to him. But unfortunately, it was too late to tip the scales on that one.

  “He, um. He died when I was almost eighteen. We grew up in the club life.” I chanced a look at her and saw the confusion knitted in her brows. Then again, I never did mention to her that I was part of a MC. “Like your books,” I waited for it to hit her. I almost smiled at the blush that spread across her perfect cheeks.

  “Oh…” she said and her mouth remained open in an O after she said it. “So are you in a motorcycle club?”

  “Why? Would that make you more attracted to me?” I joked and laughed as it came out of my mouth.

  Next thing I knew, something hard hit my shoulder then landed on the floor with a thwap. I looked down to find a boot sitting by my foot. Picking it up, I walked over to her.

  “A shoe, really?” I leaned down over her, my nose two inches from hers. A smirk played on my lips as her eyes went a little wide. “What are you five? That’s something my…” The words died in my throat. That was something my son would have done. My son… I choked back the emotions. I had been so caught up in this little happy bubble with Dya that I’d almost forgotten. But there it was, standing front and center again.

  Without warning, her sweet, soft lips were on mine. I blinked, clearing my vision, before giving into her and closing my eyes. She grabbed the side of my face, pulling me into her, kissing me harder. I was no fool, I knew she was trying to distract me and damn if it wasn’t working.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Nadya

  “The French toast is gonna burn,” Tank mumbled, his lips still on mine.

  What I wanted to say was ‘fuck the French toast.’ I could have cared less about food right then. The only thing I wanted to do was stay wrapped up in that man all day and that was seriously fucked up.

  I was at war with myself, my emotions all over the place and I couldn’t hold one down long enough to close myself back off. As much as I should have pushed him away and kicked him out, I just couldn’t. I found that I wanted him there and as the seconds ticked on, that want started to turn into need. Which was completely crazy and wrong.

  “Fine,” I said, pulling back to look into his beautiful steel eyes only to find a softness there. I had no idea what to do with that and I would be lying if I said it didn’t cause some sort of weird flutter in my belly. As reluctant as I was to let him go, I needed to. I needed a moment, or a lifetime, to catch my breath.

  Not long after that, we were sitting on the floor with plates full of steaming, hot French toast set in front of us on the coffee table. We ate in silence, the relaxed posture of Noah wasn’t lost on me for a second. He seemed lighter and a little bit more full of life. Now, I wasn’t going to go as far as to say I had a magical pussy, but I didn’t doubt that some of that was due to me.

  The weird thing was, I kinda found myself liking it. This giant of a man sitting in front of me made me fucking smile. One that I couldn’t hold back either and I could tell by the way he was watching my face with his own lips tipped up, that he liked seeing it on me.

  I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. He was rough and yet a bit soft. An odd combination but one that I found I very much liked. He wasn’t one to shield his emotions and he didn’t hold things back. I’d seen it plenty, not only when he was alone and I was watching but also when he was with me. He’d been through Hell, part of him was still living in it, and he showed his broken pieces on the outside.

  Then there was last night when he didn’t hesitate after he came out of the bathroom and wrapped his arms around me. It wasn’t awkward or forced for him. It may have been a bit for me only because I wasn’t used to such intimacy. I wasn’t used to letting someone get that close to me and while I wanted to fight it, the moment he touched me I just couldn’t.

  “Tell me something,” he said after he swallowed the big mouthful of food he’d been working on. Okay, it might have been big for me, but I was sure for him it was normal sized.

  I chewed my bite slowly, thinking of what I should share with him. There were things I definitely could not tell him. Things that I hoped I would never have to. However, I was a smart girl, I knew that secrets only destroyed in the end and that nothing ever stayed secret for long. It was only a matter of time before whatever crazy thing was going on with us would end and I wished more than anything, that he would walk away a better man and clueless as to how I’d come into his life.

  So, what was there that I could tell him? I wasn’t a fan of talking about myself. I didn’t ever talk about growing up and my family. I certainly couldn’t talk about what happened to me after I’d left said family. That pretty much left nothing. He already knew the good parts anyway. Why was I so bad at this? This was the exact reason I didn’t get close to anyone, I didn’t let anyone in, because my life was just one big ball of things I couldn’t talk about.

  “What was it like growing up? Traveling around so much? Was it like it is in the movies?” He let out a low laugh and something in his face told me he knew better than to believe what he’d seen. But I had no idea because I wasn’t a big fan of movies or TV, so I didn’t have the first clue. But I did know how outsiders saw my people. It was often talked about as a way to get the younger generation to understand how we were viewed.

  “We were always on the go. We would settle in a town for maybe a week or two at a time,” I said leaving off the reason it was always such a short stay.

  You see, we were always chasing after and running from the next con. Get in, get done, and get out before anyone figured out what happened. That was the way we lived, drifting in and out of towns and people’s lives as fast as possible. That was all I’d ever known and it was clear that in all the running I tried to do from my past, that was one thing I couldn’t escape. The unsettled feeling I’d had all my life was like the world’s softest blanket to me. The freedom of it all was in my blood and it kept my heart beating at a steady rhythm. That was the only explanation that I could give when it came to how uneasy I was becoming.

  Thinking about how long I’d been in this place, in this town, doing the same thing day in and day out made my skin crawl. I did my best to hide that all away. Noah didn’t need to know any of that. Really, I didn’t think he needed to know anything at all about me, but it seemed he thought differently. And as I took in his wide, hopeful eyes and the deep-set smile lines at the corners that were obviously there because this man at one time in his life had been a happy, cheerful man, I told him everything.

  We spent the next hour, him asking question after question like a curious little kid. I did my best to answer them all. And I did the only thing I could think of, I started at the beginning.

  “In my culture, women are cherished. However, my father wasn’t all that happy that my mom gave birth to a girl. He saw it as a burden and for that, my grandmother hated him. Eventually, my kumpanias divided, the younger generation tired of the new ways of doing things. So, when I was five, we said goodbye to my grandmother and headed off in a different direction with a different kris, or leader. I hated it. My father became even more cruel to me since the new elders were more lenient with the rules.” I took a
deep breath. It was weird for me to say all of this out loud.

  Then I told him how we’d moved to older ways of doing things. That was when the cons started to take priority over everything else. Greed plagued the men in the tribe and every con seemed to get bigger and more dangerous. We were always doing something, whether it be going to a crowded mall and doing simple pickpocketing or tricking some old lady into giving money for a nonexistent cause. I was taught at an early age how to handle things. Being that I was so young, I was always used as a distraction but that didn’t mean that I hadn’t mastered the art of sleight of hand.

  And to this day I still had those great skills. I could pick a normal lock in twenty seconds, my ears and fingers attuned to the perfect sounds and feelings. I could hotwire a car in my sleep. I could beat you at poker without even trying, not only because I could switch cards with the stealth of a ninja, but because I was able to read people like the lifeline on my palm. Many of those skills I still used to this day, but I didn’t tell him that. That part I was going to have to keep to myself.

  “I was to be married when I turned sixteen. My father had it all set up. The guy, he was alright, I guess. My father was all happy to, in a sense, get rid of me and he never stopped telling me that. When I wasn’t helping out my father, I was with my mother doing the women things. Learning how to cook and clean. All that bullshit that I hated and I wasn’t one to keep my mouth shut about it. That was probably where I went wrong.” I paused, getting lost in the memories of my childhood.

  “So, what happened then? Are you…married?” he asked tentatively.

  “Oh, fuck no!” I said with a choked out laugh.

  The smile that slyly slid across his face made my cheeks heat, which was something that didn’t happen, like ever. I knew what he was thinking and not because I could read people so well. No, he was screaming his thoughts at me right then. And those thoughts were that he was fucking beyond elated that I wasn’t married. And I would put money on that he was even thinking about marrying me himself. Fucking weird, right? But I shit you not, that was what that man was envisioning. For a second, I wished I could have been in his head to see what that all looked like.

 

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