Tank (Dark Falcons Book 2) Page 7

  She dug her fingers into his spine, holding him in place. “You feel…so good.” Her words were nearly a whimper.

  “You’re fucking incredible. Cat…my God I hardly know if this is real.”

  She shimmied her hips, withdrawing on his cock slightly. They shared a noise of wanting. “It’s real.” She ran her tongue over his lower lip. “Take me, Rob.”

  With his heart all tangled up with the sensations roaring through his body, he slipped his cock through her tight walls and slammed home again. He knotted her curls in one hand, holding her in place as he levered himself over her, in and out, until she shook underneath him and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold onto his control.

  A spasm at the base of his spine told him not much longer. His balls clenched to his body. His cock gave a deep, heavy pulse, and the first shot of cum erupted from the tip.

  Reaching between them, he located her clit with his thumb and ground down on it as he toggled, which sent her shooting over the cliff with him. She shook with each jerk of his hips, and he didn’t bother to stop the roar from exploding from his throat.

  Pleasure washed over him in long, steady waves, extending his orgasm longer than any he’d ever experienced before.

  She collapsed under him, her eyes locked on his and a tender look on her face.

  He kissed her, softly, pouring out all the emotion locked in his chest for her over too many months to count.

  Chapter Six

  After her fourth orgasm of the day, Catarina draped her thigh over Rob’s, breathing hard. The thick, chiseled muscle along with the coarse dark hair compared to hers felt incredible. Knowing this big man had taken her with all the gentleness of a teddy bear rocked her to the core.

  She stared at his profile. Straight nose, stubborn chin sprouting thick black hair. The sunshine of late afternoon—almost twenty-four hours from when they’d started—made his tan glow.

  Just thinking of what they’d done over and over again during the long night, once that morning and then again after he fed her a quick lunch of sandwiches, had her wondering when reality might come crashing down on either of them.

  Would it ever?

  Looking at him—her friend, her lover—she didn’t think it would. Her eyes burned with happy tears.

  He looked over at her, caught sight of her watery eyes and panic creased the spot between his brows. He rolled onto one hip to stare at her harder. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

  God, she loved the way he drawled the endearment.

  “I’m happy.” She sniffled.

  The spot between his brows smoothed, and he issued a relieved chuckle as he drew her head beneath his chin. “Me too. I’ve never been happier. You scared me for a minute.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, plastering her body to his strong one.

  “What do you say about grabbing a shower? Then we can swing by your place so you can change clothes. After that, burritos…and if you’re up to it, I want to show you the progress we’ve made on the club.”

  She searched his eyes. “Like…I go there as your woman?”

  He ran his tongue across his lower lip. “What do you think about that?”

  “What will the others say?”

  His eyes gleamed. “Let’s find out.” He jumped off the bed with more energy than a man should be capable of after taking her that many times. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of bed. As he propelled her toward the bathroom, she wondered at all this. How right it felt. How damn amazing.

  The shower took longer than either expected, because she couldn’t keep her hands off his big hard body, and he ended up trapping her to the wall and spreading her folds with his fingers until she shattered again. After that, she soaped up his length and stroked him just to see his veined cock grow purple with arousal and the ropes of cum cream over her fingers.

  He breathed heavily against her neck at the last, and she now knew how vulnerable he really could be in her hands. “That was so fucking hot. But it’s the last time you make me cum outside your body,” he grated out.

  “We’ll see.” She kissed his temple.

  After cleaning up, he took her home as promised and watched her with burning eyes as she changed into clean jeans, boots and a tank top. She turned to face him and fluffed her curls.

  “Do I look like the bad bitch of a biker boyfriend?”

  He lifted both brows and reeled her close to him. “You look more beautiful than I can find words for. And like you should be naked on that bed.” He twitched his head toward her bed.

  She glanced at the fading afternoon sun. “We’ll never get to the club in the daylight at this rate.”

  His broad grin made her heart thump faster. When he put her on the back of his bike again, and she had her arms around his muscled body, she wondered why she’d ever fought her own feelings for Tank. It was clear to her now. Wanting to see him at her lowest points. Needing to keep the connection between them and hating every minute she knew he disapproved of her choices when it came to Chad.

  That man was a mere memory in the recesses of her mind by this point. Tank had kissed, licked and fucked away everything and left only her desire for him.

  They roared up in front of the Rothchilds’ garage. Motorcycles already filled the lot, and the walls of the addition were all up, along with the roof, which at this very minute, men from the Dark Falcons climbed all over, shingling it.

  Tank cut the engine, and she eased herself off. He joined her, his hand meshed with hers.

  “Look who finally showed his damn face.” Dixon emerged from the club with a grin.

  Diesel and Blade stepped outside too, and a few other members stood grinning at her and Tank.

  All at once, Dixon put his hands together in applause, and they all joined in. “It’s about fuckin’ time, man.” Dixon approached to grip hands with Tank.

  She watched them pound each other on the back and then Tank slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his side. “I hope there’s room for another old lady.”

  Tank got so involved in building the new motorcycle on order that when he finally looked up at the clock, he realized four hours had passed and it was past suppertime.

  He looked at the pieces spread out on the shop floor and decided they could wait until tomorrow. He was hungry and wanted to talk to his girl.

  Wiping his hands on a rag, he walked to the door and then shut off the lights. He dropped the grease cloth into a can by the door and then locked up. Walking the yard between the bike shop and Dixon’s so often had started to wear a path into the earth. A crooked grin spread over his face. Damn if he could remember what it was like to get up and slog to work at the factory, and it hadn’t been that long since his layoff. This life was so much better.

  He had the work he loved and the woman he loved more. When Catarina wasn’t on the job, she spent every minute with him. Simply seeing that glow in her eyes told him that someone had finally made her happy—and luckily it was him.

  As he entered the shop, he spotted Dixon with his arms overhead, fixing a car on the lift. He glanced over at Tank. “Quittin’ time?”

  “Yeah,” he drawled out. “You need any help before I go?”

  “Actually, yeah. I need a third hand.”

  “Sure.” He started across the room but stopped at the rumble of an engine outside the doors.

  Dixon pulled his head out from beneath the car too, and the two of them drifted to the door to see who the visitor was. A delivery truck parked in front of the doors and as they watched, a driver jumped down.

  Tank let out a growl. He started forward. Dixon put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

  Fucking Chad.

  Leveling a glare at the guy, he remained silent while Dixon did all the talking.

  “What can I do for ya today?”

  Chad’s gaze darted to Tank and then away. “My truck’s making some noise in the engine. Thought I’d better bring it by here for work instead of getting stranded somewhere during m
y haul.” Chad glanced from Dixon’s face to Tank’s, and a gleam came into his eyes.

  Tank took two steps forward before Dixon placed himself bodily between them.

  “I’ll take a look at it tomorrow. I’m about to close up now. You need a ride somewhere?” Dixon asked him.

  “I’ve got a ride coming, thanks.” Chad drew up, expanding his chest.

  Tank inwardly scoffed. As if the scrawny shithead could compete with him.

  Dixon didn’t budge from his spot between them, but Tank didn’t like the sleazy smile on Chad’s face. What he wouldn’t give to beat the shit out of him like he truly deserved, and not just give him a black eye.

  “Looks like your eye finally healed,” he threw out.

  “Tank.” Dixon’s tone came out as a warning.

  Chad said nothing. The guy had to know Tank was with Catarina—everyone in Mersey knew it. He wanted to bring it up, but trapped the words behind his teeth.

  “The keys in it?” Dixon asked Chad.

  He nodded.

  “Tank, pull it inside and we’ll have a quick look while he waits for his ride.”

  Keeping his gaze on the bastard, Tank circled to the driver’s door and climbed in. He pulled the big truck through the largest garage door and parked it. He tried to ignore the fact that Chad wouldn’t stop glaring at him—the last thing Dixon needed was trouble. And he didn’t trust Chad not to contact Catarina in some way. She’d told him about the trickery he used to get her to his house by calling 9-1-1.

  Dixon drifted inside, but Chad remained out, arms folded, looking up and down the road as if he didn’t know which direction his ride would come from.

  Using a stepladder, Tank peered into the hood. “Might be a bearing in the engine. Low oil pressure causing knocking.”

  “We’ll take a closer look tomorrow,” Dixon said. “Shiiiit. What’s this?”

  Tank looked around the open hood to the door, where another vehicle was just being towed in by his father, and by the looks of it, the vehicle belonged to Dixon’s momma.

  They all converged on the tow truck, except Chad, who stood off in the corner of the parking lot, waiting for his ride. Tank kept a close eye on him. He didn’t seem to be paying attention anymore.

  “What happened? Did you know it was Mom’s car you’d be towing when you got the call, Dad?” Dixon asked.

  Mr. Rothchild nodded in the same way Dixon did. His buddy had learned his tough-guy act from the best.

  “I thought I’d play along with your mother’s ploy,” he said.

  “You thought she was kidding?”

  “Yeah. We had a spat this morning, and I thought it was her way of getting me to come out so we could make up.”

  Dixon held up a hand. “Okay, Dad, I don’t want to hear any more than that.”

  Mrs. Rothchild’s face reddened, and Tank hid his grin. If he and Catarina were anything like this couple when they reached their age, he’d be a very happy man.

  A car pulled up at the end of the parking lot. Chad climbed in and drove off.

  Dixon threw Tank a look. “Go on and pull that delivery truck out and we’ll get Mom’s car in. Looks like Dad and I are in for a long night.”

  “I’ll stick around and help,” Tank offered.

  “No, it’s okay. I know you put in a full day in the bike shop.”

  “Call if you need me to come in and help. Where do you want me to park asshole’s truck?” He sent a look at Mrs. Rothchild. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  Dixon scanned the lot. “Off to the side there will be fine.”

  Tank eyed him.

  “Don’t give me that look, man. A buck’s a buck. I’ll work on it in the morning—you don’t need to be involved.”

  “You don’t trust me not to take the bolts out of the wheels or plug up the exhaust pipe?”

  Dixon only chuckled.

  “Kidding. Sort of.”

  “You did get the girl in the end.”

  He grinned. “That I did, bro.”

  With a nod of farewell to all three Rothchilds, he got into the truck and moved it. He parked it where Dixon had indicated, near the corner of the new clubhouse addition.

  Pausing, he looked at the progress made on the building. It was weather-tight and all it required was the finishing touches on a bathroom and a few hookups in the kitchen. The bar area was all set up, and Patriot had done most of the work himself on his weekends off from the construction company that he owned and operated.

  Tank opened the clubhouse door. It opened silently, swinging easy on its new hinges. When he stepped inside the space, he almost felt a calm and spiritual peace come over him. This was where he belonged.

  For years after high school, he’d roamed. Been married briefly and divorced just as quickly. Coming home to Mersey felt like the only thing that would make him happy back then, and he was happy. But now he realized that having the club, his brothers and the Dark Falcons to work for—and Catarina—brought him to a whole new level of happiness.

  He ran his fingers over the new wood paneling on the wall and then closed the door.

  Tank checked the hour on his phone. He had enough time to grab some burritos for his girl before she got off her shift. He had a few more things planned to put a smile on her face too—like throw her legs over his shoulders and bury his tongue in her sweet, delectable pussy.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “I can’t see anything anyway! It’s pitch black.” Catarina giggled and tightened her grip on his hand as Tank led her through the door of the motorcycle shop. On a moonless night and with no lights switched on in the building, she couldn’t even make out his outline in front of her.

  “What are we here for?” she asked for the fourth time.

  “I told you—it’s a surprise. Are your eyes closed?”

  “Yes! Now stop teasing me, Rob.”

  His low chuckle gripped her insides. He pulled her into the space and released her. “Keep your eyes closed. I’m going to put something in your hand.”

  “It better not be something slimy. You know I hate surprises like that.”

  “I do. It’s not slimy. Trust me, darlin’.” She shivered at the drawl washing over her senses. Would she ever get enough of him? She didn’t think it was possible at this point. She wanted to be in his arms every minute of every day, and he treated her so much like a princess that even the best-kept woman in Mersey, Nicole, was getting jealous.

  A smile stretched over her face in anticipation. She heard Rob moving around the bike shop. How he kept from tripping over parts and boxes, she had no clue.

  Moments later, something cold and metal touched her fingers. His warm, rough fingers brushed hers as he helped her pinch her own fingers around the object.

  “Okay. Three, two, one.” He snapped on the lights. She blinked at the bright white-blue light over the workbench and stared at the object she held.

  Tiny pieces of metal and glass had been strung from wire to create a swirling mobile. The flat rectangles of glass and circles of metal rotated individually, catching the light.

  She gasped. “Rob! Did you make this?”

  He stepped in front of her, his grin stopping her heart. “Do you like it?” The sound of his deep tone slipped all the way down her belly to pool between her legs.

  “It’s beautiful.” She reached out her free hand and touched one of the metal pieces, sending it spinning, along with all the others surrounding it. It took so much engineering. Each piece cut out and strung from wire, set into layers and tiers that hung off a main point to hang the whirligig from.

  “I thought you might hang it in our bedroom.”

  Her brows shot up. “Our bedroom.” While she spent each night in his bed, nothing had been made official yet.

  He nodded. “My place is a bit of a dump.”

  She giggled. “So is mine.”

  “Which is why I thought maybe you’d move in with me and we’ll try to
fix things up to be less of a dump.”

  She fizzled with excitement. “Take this from me so I can throw my arms around you!”

  Laughing, he took the object and hung it on a nearby nail on the wall, while she hurled herself into his arms. The gift had touched her heart more than any other thing she’d ever received. Because he took the time to make something beautiful for her.

  She went on tiptoe to press her lips to his. He deepened the caress immediately, and she moaned into his mouth. The flavor of man and a trace of coffee lingered on his tongue, and she wiggled closer to him.

  With an arm around her, he lashed her against him. She felt every single inch of his chiseled form and quite a few bulging against her belly.

  Gripping the sides of his leather cut in each hand, she yanked him closer. “We haven’t made love here in the shop yet.”

  “Funny you should say that. I might have brought some blankets and an old air mattress for the back room.”

  Her smile couldn’t get any wider. “You’re kidding me.”

  Trailing a hand down her arm to her wrist, his eyes glowed. “Come see.” He tugged her hand.

  She followed him through the shop to a space no bigger than a closet, but sure enough, he’d blown up the air mattress and strewn blankets over it.

  “I can’t think of a better love nest,” she said.

  He shot her a look over his shoulder and then spun her into his embrace. The instant their bodies connected, desire claimed her. She could think of nothing but getting his clothes off and her hands all over his warm, steely muscles.

  She kicked off her boots and reached for his leather vest. He caught her up, though, kissing her senseless with long passes of his tongue that left her desperate. Aching. When he threaded his long fingers under her hair to grip her nape, a shiver racked her.

  “I love you, Rob.”

  The tender whisper fell between them. He went dead still, holding her in place and his eyes glimmering in the faint light coming from over the workbench in the main part of the shop.

  “That’s the first time you’ve said it.”