Saviour: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (Savior Book 3) (15 page)

If there was ever a man that could make you simultaneously orgasm from his voice alone it would be Train. He’s shorter than most of the guys in the MC standing about an inch under six feet. He’s got shaggy blonde hair that falls across his gorgeous green eyes hiding them from the world, which is a shame because they’re one of his best features. Built like a boxer, Train works out seven days a week to maintain his zero body fat condition, and I thank him for all of womankind for doing so, in my head of course because it would be rude to do it out loud. His eight pack abs are drool worthy, and his arms and legs are so muscular I don’t think it’s possible for him to pack anymore bulk on if he tries.

The broody man is practically a mystery, but that only adds to his appeal, at least that’s what Candice thinks. Me? Not so much. I don’t have time to try and decipher a human puzzle of epic brooding proportions. I prefer to know what I’m up against than having to waste time guessing. Not that Tank’s much better. But at least with him I can eventually coax whatever is on his mind out.

Albeit Train is hot I’m not attracted to him for anything other than his voice. Smooth like velvet, with a hint of rasp. It packs as much punch as a twenty-five-year-old aged scotch whiskey. Honestly, I think if you were turned on enough he could in fact make a woman orgasm from talking to them alone. Nothing else necessary.

“These are the sort of people you chose to associate with Hunter? Aren’t you going to say anything about the way they’re speaking to me?” As I said, delusional. One look at Tank and anyone would know he’s not going to be sticking up for her anytime this side of Christmas.

“Yeah, let me get right on that Charlee. You still haven’t answered what the fuck you’re doing here. Unless you’ve got those papers I sent you signed, we’ve got nothing to say to each other and you know it.” Hmm…Interesting. I can only assume he means divorce papers. Makes sense that she’s here trying to make her final play for him.

Scoffing at him, and flicking her hair over her shoulder Charlee’s scowl roams over the four of us. I muse that someone really should tell her that her Botox won’t last as long if she keeps frowning like that, but decide it won’t be me.

“We had a deal Hunter and nothing has changed to alter the terms of that deal, so that won’t be happening any time soon. As for having nothing to say to each other, that’s a different story because I have plenty to say to you.”

Fucking hell. This woman does
not
know when to quit when she’s ahead. Tank’s scary face is enough to make grown men pee themselves, and he’s directing it at her in its full-force, but she doesn’t look phased in the slightest.

“Well that’s where you’d be fucking wrong bitch. The terms changed when I told you that you sign, or I go about seeing to it myself. You waited too long with that shit, so I went ahead and took care of it like I said I would. You should be getting the decree in the mail anytime now, so how about you go the fuck home and wait for it. Have some champagne on ice waiting because it’s going to be a fucking celebration to finally be rid of your ass.”

Her exterior turns as ugly as her interior in a split second. Seeing that she’s seconds from an explosion I tug on Tank’s arm urging him to bend so I can speak low enough for only him to hear.

“You might want to send Train and Glock out for this. She’s got some information you might not want them hearing.” Giving me a puzzled look Tank glances over his shoulder at the guys and then turns back to me with a questioning brow raised. “About your job Tank.” I prompt praying he gets what I’m saying and sends them to wait outside.

I watch as understanding flashes through his eyes, and he confirms he got me when he addresses them.

“Brothers do me a favour and wait out by the bikes. I’ll wrap this shit up and be out.”

Nodding their ascent they turn and leave the way they came. Squeezing his bicep I lean in a little closer and say,

“I’ll just go and get back to work. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Stay,” he says almost pleading with me. There’s more emotion in that one word than I’ve seen from him in a while. Call me a pushover, but when Tank uses that tone on me my insides turn to mush and I can’t deny him anything, so I nod.

As expected, the she-bitch explodes.

“You did fucking what? I can’t believe you would do that to me Hunter. I let you traipse around shoving your dick in any hole you want, I don’t make you support me the way you should’ve been all this time, and very rarely do I ask you to accompany me to anything, why was it so important for you to change things? They were working just fine the way they were.”

Delusional.

“Let’s get a few fucking things straight, yeah? You don’t
let
me do shit. I’m my own fucking man, and I don’t need your permission to do fucking anything. Another thing; I don’t support you the way I should’ve been? Bitch I pay for the house you live in. I pay for the food you eat. I pay your fucking ridiculous credit card bill every month. And not once, not ever, have I asked for a fucking thing from you other than for you to sign those fucking papers, and you couldn’t even do that. As for taking you to those so-called society events where all anyone ever does is prance around showing off how much fucking cash they have, and shedding a few fake tears for whatever cause of the hour is on the projector screen, I haven’t taken you to one of them for a long ass time, so cut the shit. Priss knows exactly where I’ve been other than the one time just over a year ago that I came to you demanding you sign that shit, so we can finally call this farce of a marriage quits.” I’ll give her this, she can turn on the waterworks at a moment’s notice. If she hadn’t just showed her true colours I’d almost have believed they were real. Tank forges ahead regardless, recognising them for what they are. “Sixteen years. Sixteen miserable fucking years tied to a bitch too selfish to realise that there’s more to life than money, her figure, and what those fake society fucks think of her. You ever think once about me in all this? What staying married to your ass has cost me?”

I’m not sure he meant it as a question it was more rhetorical than anything else, but she answers with callousness indifference anyway.

“Cost you? You have got plenty of money, I don’t see that running out anytime soon. I haven’t tied you to me Hunter. I’ve let you run off and do whatever the hell you wanted, whenever you wanted. What I do find curious is how you managed to get a judge to agree to a divorce with no talk of any settlement, or compensation for the time I’ve put into this marriage.”

It’s sad, just really sad, and my heart breaks for Tank. He’s suffered being married to Charlee just because of the evil witch she is, and the only thing she can concern herself with is how much money she’s going to walk away with.

“You bitch.” I declare. “Do you hear yourself? And you called me a gold digger. What does this say about you?”

Wrong thing to say. Tank lets out a menacing hiss.

“You called her fucking what?”

Looking sufficiently alarmed Charlee clutches her purse to her chest like a lifeline. If I hadn’t been exposed to Tank’s temper so often I would probably be terrified myself, but I’m not. I’ve seen this side of him too many times to be worried about how he’ll react, because I know how it’ll end. Tank’s an act first, ask questions later kind of guy, and that spells disaster for this quickly deteriorating situation in particular. Pushing against his body with my full weight I thread my hand through his, and hold on tight. Using the most soothing tone I can muster I say,

“Its okay, Tank let it go, it doesn’t matter what she says. I know it’s not true and you do too that’s all that matters, okay?”

I hope he’s in a receptive mood. I think I’m right when he squeezes my hand back, but no such luck.

“She hasn’t taken a fucking thing from me, not one fucking thing that I haven’t been willing to give. And I’d give her any-fucking-thing she asked for, but not once has she taken or asked for a dime from me. See that’s the thing though, Priss isn’t a materialistic cunt like you, and because you’re so up your own ass I can’t expect you to know what it means to me that I’ve found a woman that likes me for me. Only me. Not my money. Not who my family is. And not what I can do for her.” Looking down at me with a softening expression on his face he adds, “If I could give her the fucking moon I would, but she wouldn’t ask me for it. She’d tell me she was happy to look at it from a distance, and ask me to sit with her while she does. That type of woman is rare as fuck, and I consider myself the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet that I found her.”

I can’t help it, a tear escapes the corner of my eye trailing down my cheek. That’s the closest thing to telling me how he feels about me that Tank has ever come. It’s the sweetest too. Doing the only thing I can to show him how much I appreciate his words I bring our joined hands to my lips, kissing the back of his big calloused one.

Clearing her throat, issuing one last threat Charlee says,

“This isn’t over. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” Shuffling out of the booth, hightailing it as fast as her overpriced heels can take her I watch her until she’s out of sight. When she is I release a long held sigh, and try and take me hand from Tank’s. He doesn’t let me. If anything his grip tightens, and with a tug he’s leading me out of sight, down the hallway to the back room B-Mo uses as an office slash storage room.

As soon as we’ve cleared the doorway Tank kicks the door closed with his size fourteen boot, the overhead light is dull, and the room is filled with tension, I can’t read his face, but he looks like he’s panting. His chest is rising and falling quickly. His breath coming out in short bursts. Pulling me into his body
hard
, he wraps his arms around my waist and holds me tight. Just holds me. It’s a hold of comfort. Of reassurance.

I’ve never been in Tank’s arms like this before. Sure, we’ve hugged each other, we were friends for years before this latest falling out after all, but those were nothing like this. This is something more. Something important. Something I can feel changing what we are to each other. I don’t get long to think about what that might be before Tank breaks the silence whispering into my hair,

“I’m sorry Priss. Fuck. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that bitch. I promise I was going to…”

I’m not going to let him apologise for something he had no control over. He’s not her keeper, and there was nothing he could’ve done about her showing up out of the blue.

“Don’t. Just stop.” I say tersely. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask her to come see me, and you didn’t ask me to sit her down and listen to what she had to say. I did that myself and I’m glad I did.” He looks adorably confused. Tank doesn’t look adorable often, but when he does it takes years off the world-weary aura he projects. Shaking my head ruefully I answer his unasked question. “I’m glad because it gave me perspective on what you’ve had to put up with for years. I can’t say I’m happy you didn’t tell me what you were dealing with before now, but what’s done is done, and I can’t change it, and neither can you. I don’t need you to explain it to me I think I got a pretty good idea of what went on between you and I forgive you for…” I don’t finish. I don’t get the chance when Tank’s mouth crashes to mine.

His lips are warm and soft, but firm and knowing at the same time. This isn’t a sweet kiss. Far from it. It’s rough. Passionate. All-consuming. Tank moves his mouth skilfully over mine demanding entrance, taking what’s always been his to have. The first taste of him leaves me dizzy. Tank tastes like years of pent up desire mixed with longing, deep and soulful like the man himself. The way his tongue coaxes mine to tangle with his is beautiful.

The kiss reminds me of what a complex man Tank really is. While he isn’t asking, he’s commanding my compliance; he’s also giving just as much as he’s taking. I never expected to get confirmation of his feelings for me, so everything he’s willing to share I’ll cherish.

As his hands begin to roam down my back, settling on the globes of my ass he squeezes. Tank’s not a gentle man. Nothing about his size hints that he will be. I don’t think he’s capable of tender, but that’s not what I want right now anyway. All I want is for him to fuck me. I want this moment with him, and I’m prepared to let him take this as far as he wants.

I moan into his mouth as his left hand travels underneath the hem of my tank top resting just below my lace covered breast.

“Fuck me! You’re so fucking sexy Beautiful,” Tank rasps out. Urging him on by pressing my chest further into his hand he gets the picture quickly. “You need me to touch you, Baby?”

That’s a stupid question. Of course I want him to touch me. I’m all but throwing myself at him. Instead of answering I pull myself from his grip and take two steps back. Furrowing his brow Tank looks confused, and hurt all at the same time. His expression changes instantaneously when I rip my shirt over my head and unhook my bra. With the offending scrap of lace dangling from my index finger I ask,