Chapter 4

Nicole

At the moment, I was kinda hoping the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I’d just propositioned Tank, and he still hadn’t said a word.

I’d spent the past week in Bridezilla hell. Jessica was awesome and a sweetheart and my best friend, but I’d had more than one murderous thought this week. The stress of the wedding on the heels of having her baby only months ago and her well-meaning but overbearing mother had Jessica cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. During Jessica’s courtship with Zag, she’d held it together during some seriously screwed-up shit—being attacked by a former True Brothers MC member, finding out she was pregnant, and then getting shot by the previously mentioned fuckwad. So I was surprised it was the wedding that was driving her over the edge. She was a bubbling stew of stress and postnatal hormones, snapping at everyone left and right. It was only a matter of time before she completely lost her shit.

And since Emily was still recuperating from her abduction not even two weeks ago, she deserved every ounce of peace we could give her. Which meant holding our fragile friend Jessica together fell to me.

Me, who’d been described as abrasive, confrontational, and snippy at my last employee evaluation. In spite of the antacid-popping I’d been doing this week I think I was developing an ulcer from all the tongue-biting.

I needed some stress relief.

Which is why I couldn’t get Tank out of my mind. The sexual tension in the truck before Jessica’s lecture. The amazing way he looked—all brawn and manly with his tattoos and attitude. The mental fantasies that’d sprung up after his “threat” over my slipup with his name. I call it a “threat” because what part of spanking me was actually meant to be a punishment? Sounded like kinky fun to me.

Brittany must’ve seen my interest—I had been blatantly checking Tank out anytime I thought Jessica wouldn’t notice. I didn’t need one of her lectures again. I’d thought I’d been so sneaky with my ravenous glances, but apparently not since Brittany brought up my interest in him.

“So Tank, huh?”

I flinched, torn out of my mental fantasy where Tank had had me bent over the arm of a sofa and was alternating between turning my cheeks red and tormenting my hard, throbbing clitoris. I cleared my throat and tried to figure out when Brittany had developed psychic abilities. “What?”

I’d only met Brittany a few weeks ago, at Jessica’s bachelorette party. Despite our almost fifteen-year age difference, we’d bonded over booze, penile piercings, and our similar outlooks on life—aside from the part where she was married to a biker. We both were bold, brash, say-the-first-thing-that-came-into-our-heads kinda girls. Soulmates, really. So it was silly for me to act like I didn’t know what she was talking about. But still, I tried.

“Don’t even bother giving me the innocent routine, girlie. You two have been eye fucking each other every chance you get. But I don’t get why you’re all the way over here. Clearly you both like each other. I didn’t take you as a wait-for-him-to-make-the-first-move kinda girl.”

“I’m not, but Jessica would kill me if I screwed around with one of Zag’s Brothers.” And also because I have this whole rule about bikers. But I didn’t say that last part out loud. No one here would understand my no-biker rule. Especially Brittany. The club was her life. She adored her husband, True Brother member Stitch. They were usually attached at the hip at these shindigs—most times with their hands all over each other—which was amazing considering they’d been married for over twenty years. They were still so in love with each other.

Love. Felt like I couldn’t go anywhere lately and not get it shoved in my face. Between Jessica’s wedding, Emily’s infatuation with her swashbuckling rescuer beau, and Brittany’s dry humping, all my friends were infected.

“You’re both consenting adults. At the very least you’ll get it out of your system while Jessica is too busy to notice. But I have a feeling Tank’ll deliver more than the very least. He’s very…Hmmm, what’s the right word for it?”

“Hot? Sexy? Muscular? Virile?”

“Really, Nic? Virile?”

“What? It’s a word.”

“I know it’s a word. It’s just not a word I’ve ever heard anyone say out loud. But yeah, he’s all of that. Actually, he kinda reminds me of Stitch when he was younger.”

I couldn’t hold back my snort. Beer burned my nasal cavity. “Stitch? Really?”

In my opinion the two guys couldn’t have been further apart. Stitch was more of a scrappy character. He barely grazed six foot and was lean as could be. Plus he had that receding hairline combined with a close-cropped mustache. Whereas Tank was clean-shaven, six-six at least, and broad as could be—all of it finely tuned muscle. And then there was his full head of brown hair. Just enough for me to grab onto when he needed a little guidance while going down on me. His beard would tickle a bit against my thighs.

Argh! Dammit, where did that little mental picture come from? Suddenly it was all I could think about.

“No, really.” Brittany tilted her head as she blatantly looked at Tank on the other side of the yard. “They both have this way about them that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room. Solid, you know? The kind of guy who’d have your back.”

“Whoa. Wait a minute. You’re not matchmaking, are you? Because you know I don’t have time in my life for a steady relationship. I was just hoping for a one-and-done kinda thing.” The words had barely left my mouth before I realized what I’d said. Wait, when had this gone from a dirty fantasy into a reality? Was I seriously considering sleeping with a True Brother? With a biker?

“No, I have a very firm rule about matchmaking. I don’t do it. That’s the kinda shit that ruins friendships. Still, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if your one and done turned into more.”

Um, yeah, it kinda would. But I didn’t say as much. I just raised my eyebrows and gave Brittany a skeptical look. I couldn’t tell her why I’d never have more than a one-night stand with Tank. With any biker.

Again, when did this become something I was considering?

“It’s just as well.” Brittany sighed. “Tank’s never been in a long-term relationship that I’ve known of. And I would know—he’s at my house almost every day. He’s more of a love ’em-and-leave ’em kinda guy.”

“Perfect.” Just the kind of guy I was looking for. Having all that muscular awesomeness under my hands, over my body, as he thrust inside me was all I could think about. What was the harm if we both agreed it would only be for one night?

Holy crap. Was I really considering this?

I was. I was so gonna do this. Do him. I shoved my beer toward Brittany with a muttered “Hold this for me.” I heard a muted whoop behind me as my intent became clear to Brittany when I crossed the yard toward Tank and Bumper. Cocking my head to the side, I bit my lip and mustered all my courage to ask him a question.

“So, Tank, want to get out of here?”

Bumper made a sound like he couldn’t believe I was propositioning Tank. Meanwhile all Tank could do was stare at me with a stupefied expression.

Bumper drove his elbow into Tank’s side. “Uh, buddy, you might wanna close your mouth. You look like a trout.”

Tank’s mouth closed with a snap before he shot a glare at his friend. Then he jerked his head at me and walked toward the side of Reb’s house.

I stared at his retreating back for a beat. Was that an answer? Was I supposed to follow him? Or was that his way of saying no?

“If this is an invite to a three-way, I have to politely decline.” Bumper showed his teeth in a semblance of a smile, then held up his fist in the classic rock devil’s horns. “I don’t ever do devil’s three-ways.”

I opened and closed my mouth. Between Tank’s lack of a response and Bumper’s overshare, I couldn’t kick-start my brain. Me, the snarky, quick-with-a-reply girl.

Before I could process the mental image Bumper had shoved into my head, he scowled at me and continued. “Why are you still here shooting the shit with me? I thought you wanted Tank. He went that-a-way.”

I glared at Bumper, then found myself in the awkward position of chasing after Tank. Did he even want to be caught by me? Suddenly this felt like a new low to my craptastic week.

The outside lights only covered the front and back, and after a few steps darkness enveloped me. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust. So when something in the darkness grabbed my arm and pinned me against the house, I did the only logical thing.

I shrieked.

A shrill, girly little squeak. My heart racing, I slapped at the arms imprisoning me. “Dammit, you scared me.”

Tank grunted and stepped closer to me, pinning me between his body and the house behind me.

I tried to convince myself that my brief scare was the reason my heart was pounding in my chest. But in reality, I’d never been this close to Tank before. Up ’til now it’d just been lingering looks through a rearview mirror or across the bonfire. Now I could feel the heat of his body. Now I could smell his unique mix of some kinda of spice from his deodorant and the tang of the beer we’d both been drinking. My hips mindlessly arched into his, and I felt the proof of his desire for me.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” I mentally cursed the darkness enveloping us. I’d give anything at that moment to see his expression. “You want to get out of here? With me?”