“The worst.”
Rose swallowed, closing her eyes again. “Just keep me safe, Cowboy.”
“You got it, English.”
-oOo-
As she’d gotten into the shower Rose realized it had been seven in the morning when Tank stole into her apartment. She had been able to fall asleep for another hour and a half, then she needed to be up and puttering around. So she figured a shower wouldn’t bother Tank too much.
Then she headed for the kitchen to make him breakfast. He ate a lot, whenever food found him, so she scrambled half a carton of eggs and fried an entire package of bacon. After browning a few slices of toast she assembled it all together with peanut butter and jam and carried it into the bedroom on a bed tray.
He was asleep but woke as she neared the bed. It was likely his nose that brought him around. Inside her chest, her heart thumped harder at his smile, that crooked grin that made her go stupid doing its thing once again.
“English, did you cook for me?”
She set the tray across his lap. “I did.”
“It smells good, baby.” He caught her hand and gave it a tug. With a smile she lowered her face to his for a quick kiss. “Did you eat?”
She shrugged and sat on one ass cheek on the edge of the mattress. “Not hungry.”
Tank frowned, but said nothing. He just picked up the fork and speared a slice of bacon, shoving the entire thing in his mouth.
Rose couldn’t explain her lack of appetite. Or why she was always tired. And the reasons for her heart palpitations every time she set foot outside of her door were just as much a mystery as the rest of it.
Every person she saw was a possible threat. Every time someone reached into their pocket or stared at her too long, she broke out in a sweat. And the staring was bound to happen; this was a city of lily-white folks, so she stood out anyway. But the second eyes lingered on her longer than a polite amount of time, her mouth went dry and she wanted to run.
Everyone she saw wasn’t going to throw acid on her. Of course not. But she was in a constant state of high alert for threats to her person. It was fucking exhausting.
Rose knew she’d eventually get over it. It would pass. But in the meantime, she felt completely trapped.
“Damn, English, you can cook.” The compliment brought her back and she had to smile, pleased he liked it. There was something so domestically satisfying in that.
“I’m glad you like it, honey.”
He leaned forward with a piece of bacon held out, and she leaned in to grab it, smiling. “What else you got planned today?” he asked once she was chewing.
“Nothing,” was her standard answer. “What about you? You had about three hours of sleep. You staying in with me today?”
“Gotta go to the club around noon. You wanna hang out with me today? It’ll be a quick meeting. We can go for a drive, maybe.”
He was still trying to get her on his bike. She had refused so far, and she sure as hell wasn’t doing it when he was poked full of holes. “Not getting on a bike. And can you ride?”
He chuckled, wiping his mouth with the paper napkin she’d tucked under his plate. “I have a cage today, honey. Can’t ride like this, no. And you will be on my bike eventually.”
She shook her head. “Too dangerous.”
“Don’t intend on crashing with you on my bike, baby.”
Rose scoffed. “Is that what happens during an accident? Those people intended to have a horrific crash?”
He was chuckling as she went off. “English, you crack me up.”
Rose took the tray from his lap, shaking her head. “So glad I amuse you.”
He pushed the sheets down, showing that he had indeed gotten into bed completely naked. And all systems below his beltline seemed to functioning perfectly.
Her eyes lingered and she knew she smirked. He was grinning back as he snuggled into the pillows. “You do more than amuse me, English. Hurry back.”
“You should take it easy.”
“You’re going to be doing all the work. Now get the lead out.”
Without a second thought she set the tray down on her small kitchenette table and darted back to her bedroom, pulling off her top. He growled as soon as he saw her, and her pulse quickened at the sound. She stopped to pull open her shorts and let them slide down her legs. “I just had a shower, you know. You’re going to get me all sweaty.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
She scrambled into bed, straddling his hips. “If it hurts, let me know.”
He chuckled again. She fucking loved that sound, felt it right in her core.
Rose leaned over his chest, softly pressing her lips to his. When his shovel-sized hands slid up her thighs she moaned, flexing her hips. He growled deep in this throat, and she reached for the drawer to the nightstand to retrieve a condom. As she did her breasts brushed his chest, and his hands tightened, keeping her close to him. She rested her weight on him, smiling as his lips found hers sweetly, brushing against them ever so softly. No man had ever been this sweet, irresistible and dominant all at once. She was on top, she was supposed to be in control. But his warm palms were demanding on her back, sliding to the curve at the base of her spine as he pressed up with his hips, his erection pushing into her belly.
With a gasp she parted mouths, scurried back onto his thighs and held his cock upright. The condom package gave way to her teeth and the hurried yank she gave the corner. With sure strokes she rolled it into place, then placed herself in line to take him inside.
Rose didn’t look into Tank’s eyes until she was full, holding him to the hilt inside. There was heat there, passion, and affection. Lots of affection, so much it almost made her heart cramp.
“Tank,” she whispered, palms pressing into his chest to keep herself upright. She had no idea where she was going with the statement, but his eyes ran down her body and his lips parted to breathe. She was used to men looking at her naked. It was a strange thing for her to be turned on by a blatant appraisal, but he liked everything he saw and she was so pleased by that.
“Jesus, English. More beautiful every time I see you.”
She closed her eyes at that, throwing her head back, letting her hips glide over him. Without seeing him, she tracked his breathing, how it was almost immediately raspy, and she didn’t think it was from injury. He confirmed that with a deeply growled “Fuck. Fuck English. Don’t take your time here. Shit.”
With a loud chuckle she opened her eyes, seeing him grinning up at her like a goofball causing her to almost lose her rhythm. But she didn’t. She sped up, kept her eyes on his. His smile faded, his hands helping her hips rise and fall just right. Just fucking perfect.
Her nails dug into the meat of his chest. Her legs began to tighten under her. Climaxing while staring him straight in the eye was powerful; so intimate. Watching him tumble along with her, making more noise but keeping eye contact, was wonderfully satisfying. When they were both still, other than being out of breath, she slid off of him to the side. Before she could get up he caught her hand, kissing the palm and holding it to his chest. That hold was like a bear trap.
“Come with me to the clubhouse today,” he said softly, tilting his head on the pillows. “I … shit. I don’t know. I just … I want to introduce you to everyone.”
Rose frowned. “I think I know most of the people there.”
“No, I mean … introduce you as mine. With me.”
It took her a few seconds to catch on. “You mean … like … we’re going steady?”
He stared at her then for a second or three before laughing. “Yeah,” he agreed finally, laugh dying away but leaving behind that quirky grin. “Like you’re my girl.”
She felt like she was his. She certainly wasn’t anyone else’s, and she wanted to think of him as being all hers, too. But this seemed even more important than she thought it was.
“What happens if I’m yours?” Her voice still held suspicion, but she couldn’t help that.
&nb
sp; “Other than having me all to yourself and vice versa, not much.” He shrugged. “My brothers know that you’re with me. They’d offer you the same respect and protection they owe me.”
“Do I need that protection?” Of course that was the first thing she heard; the possibility that she was still in grave danger.
He sat up with a wince and let go of her hand to slide his palm along the side of her neck. She loved it when he did that. “Not gonna pull the wool over those eyes. You’ve seen what people that don’t like us can do. But with me, my brothers, we’ll all make sure that shit doesn’t go unanswered. Any means we can. That’s all I’m gonna say, because you’re smart enough to know when to ask and when to not. But being mine is more than that. There’s no one else as long as there’s you, English.”
She licked her lips while she thought it over. He kept his eyes locked on hers, waiting. He didn’t look certain; he looked worried she would say no. “Okay,” she agreed quietly. “I’ll go as your girl.”
Chapter Nineteen
Devon, their delightful pothead dealer, had been jumped two nights before the three fresh desert corpses had attempted to beat up Piper. That was what Tank learned when they convened in the boardroom. They’d taken his stash, money, and he was too scared to tell the club. He’d intended to just pay for all of it himself and not say a word.
“When we told him Piper almost got beat up, he was really sorry,” Knuckles admitted. Tank could tell by his tone that Knuckles was as impressed with that detail as Tank was. “I gave him a bit of a verbal lashing. Told him we would have been watching or pulling the dealers off the street if we’d known. I think we were just lucky Piper told Tank about what she’d heard those two talking about. Devon’s pretty fucked up. I’d hate to think what they’d do to her.”
Tank’s hands were cranked into fists, but he tried to let go of that flash of anger. Devon was a bit of an idiot, but smart enough to be scared. Too bad he wasn’t smart enough to give half a shit about other people, too.
“I say we halt the dealing for the time being,” Jayce suggested from the head of the table. Everyone shifted in their seats, but no one spoke against it. “I know,” Jayce continued. “It’s relatively easy money. But these fucks are hurting our people, and we can’t put them in an easy position to get killed. That makes us assholes.”
“I’ve already called off Steven. Paid him off for the shit he still had and took the rest back. He was almost done anyway,” Knuckles summed up their dealer roll call.
“We got a shipment due in two days,” Tank pointed out. “We can hold it, cancel the next, but more than that and the Banshees start looking for someone else to sell it for them. They won’t be hurting for people to take over.”
Jayce nodded. “We pay them for this next shipment outright, show of good faith. That gives us a month to neutralize this bullshit. The Mazaris are brutal but not that well-connected, as far as we can see. Spaz is looking into where they might be holed up. They gotta be living somewhere close.”
“It pisses me off that they go after our associates,” Buck bit out, his hands on the table casually but his arms showing tension. “Just come at us. Fucking cowards.”
“We’re deeply imbedded in this town,” Jayce reminded him. “They get the town to hate us and we got trouble on all fronts. That’s why we nip this in the bud now.” With a nod to Spaz Jayce cast his eyes around the group. “Anyone else have anything else to report?”
Tank cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah. I uh, I brought Rose here today. I want everyone to meet her and … well, she’s with me now.”
The room was silent, and Tank stared at the tabletop, waiting for the moment to pass. For Jayce to rap his knuckles on the table, signaling the end of the meeting. But it stayed too fucking quiet.
“So … that’s it,” he added, lamely.
“Wait. What?”
Tank brought his attention to his Prez. Jayce looked completely stunned, and from the blank looks around the table Tank realized Knuckles had kept his mouth shut all this time. And so had Buck and Mickey by some strange miracle.
Holy shit.
“You and the stripper?” Tiny finally broke the silence.
Tank prickled to hear Rose referred to as The Stripper. “Her name’s Rose,” he snarled back, holding Tiny’s ice-blue eyes in his gaze. “And that’s what you call her.”
Tiny sat up straighter. “You taking the high road for a stripper?”
Tank’s jaw clenched hard enough to click. “Don’t make me knock your teeth sideways.”
“No one’s fighting,” Jayce cut in, annoyed. “And you’ve got holes in your ribs, Tank. Take it easy. We don’t throw down over a woman who ain’t even inked. And Tiny, he’s staking his claim. You show her that much respect.”
Tiny gave an indiscernible nod, but he was still shooting daggers across the table at Tank. Whatever. Tank could only worry about one thing at a time.
Jayce drew the meeting to a close, and Tank was first to the door. In the clubhouse he found Rose sitting at the bar on a tall stool with one of the club girls, one he didn’t know the name of. They seemed to know each other, however.
“Hey, English,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her neck as she automatically tilted his way at his approach. She let him kiss her, right here in front of everyone, and he was grinning when he pulled back. “Want you to meet the guys officially.”
She nodded, giving a small smile that made him wonder if she was nervous. But she took his hand and got to her feet.
“Stealing my woman,” Tank explained to the sweet butt, and she just nodded, getting his meaning.
First Jayce approached them, holding out his hand and giving the smile that he used on cops and visiting clubs. “Nice to meet you, Rose.” It sounded like he meant it, and Tank felt a phantom trace of tension slip from his shoulders.
Next it was Buck. Tank wasn’t worried about that at all, and Buck was true to his gentleman’s reputation. “Nice to meet you. And we appreciate you trying to civilize this oaf. If you could get him to brush and cut that hair we’d be indebted.”
That made Rose laugh, and Tank wanted to hug his brother. Buck gave him a wink as he made way for Fritter.
Fritter was just as hard to judge as Knuckles sometimes. Not in the psycho range, but around women. He had the whole Southern accent thing down to an art, but usually he was terribly charming in an off-color way. If he said anything inappropriate he was losing those perfect teeth.
“Nice to meet you, Rose,” he drawled, laying on the accent a little thick but shaking her hand in a generic way.
“Thanks,” she returned, smiling back as though charmed. Tank tightened his arm around her back in a proprietary manner that Fritter totally caught.
The bastard’s smooth façade cracked and his goofy grin made Tank relax. “Easy big guy,” Fritter mumbled. “I know the score.”
Mickey was predictably polite, like Buck. Spaz was his knuckleheaded self, grinning like a schmuck. Tank gave him the benefit of the doubt on that expression; he was assuming it was because Rose was just so stunning in person. Not because he was remembering what she looked like naked.
Richey and Red were reserved, no surprise there. And when Tiny approached, Tank found himself moving closer to Rose as though he was expecting Tiny to cause her harm or something.
“Tiny,” he muttered, hand out. He looked bored.
Rose took his hand. “Rose.”
“Yeah,” he answered, dropping her hand and heading for the bar.
Battening down the urge to pound the guy, Tank kept his feet in place and gave Rose a restrained smile. “Don’t mind him,” he muttered, pulling her into a hug. “He’s an asshole.”
Her body was tight, tense. Tiny’s reaction to her had her uncomfortable, and he wanted to beat that fucker in a way that surprised him, but Jayce was right. Tiny hadn’t wronged her, and Rose didn’t have his ink yet.
Yet? His brain had a hell of an agenda that it wasn’t letting
him in on.
On their own his hands were running over her back, soothing her, or maybe it was telling her that he was bothered by Tiny’s treatment as well. He pushed his thumb under her chin to bring her face up. “Hey,” he said softly, trying to read her expression. “Everything okay?”
She shrugged.
“Hey, forget him. He just doesn’t know you.”
After a beat she nodded, but now he was all the more pissed off.
“Forget him, Rose.”
“Okay,” she shot back, too sharp and too quick. Fuck. He’d lost her. Her eyes flashed with irritation and she pushed him off. “Can you take me home now?”
“I thought we were going for a ride.”
She shook her head and crossed her arms. “I changed my mind. I just want to be left alone.”
Fuck. She hadn’t shut him out in a while. He hated it more now.
“All right,” he said briskly, moving past her to the door. He didn’t check to see if she was following. He left the dimness of the hall and strode to the truck, climbing in and slamming the door harder than it needed. With a lethal silence Rose seated herself on the passenger side and secured her seatbelt, even that simple gesture seeming elegant when she did it.
Shit. She wasn’t even looking at him.
Tank paused with his hand on the key, in the ignition. Nah, he wasn’t playing this silent bullshit. He hated it. It wasn’t fair and it pissed him off.
“What the hell’s wrong, English?”
“Nothing.”
It was quick and cool and pissed him off more. “You gotta talk to me. I ain’t a mind reader. If it’s Tiny, that’ll pass. You gotta trust me on that.”
She snorted, casting her gaze out the side window.
“What the fuck, Rose?” He hated raising his voice, but it happened. “Everything was good. What the hell changed?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” Tank yanked the key out of the ignition and sat back, arms crossed. “You shut down like this and it fucking pisses me off, English. You have to tell me what’s up. I can’t help unless I know.”
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