Tank (2 page)

Tank swallowed hard, pushing those thoughts back and trying to bring his thoughts to neutral. Popping a boner in front of her right now might not get them off on the right foot.

Beth went over and hugged her friend. “You okay?”

Jess nodded, holding Beth tight. “You? You scared me.”

Beth laughed, and hopefully only Tank could tell how forced it was. “We were so silly to get so worried over some dogs.”

Jess laughed, taking Beth’s words at face value. “In our defense, they were scary looking.”

Beth pulled away and brought Jess before him, until she was almost touching. “This is Tank, he’s a friend of mine. Tank, this is Jess. She’s a librarian here, and puts up with my studying.”

Jess smiled at him, making something in his chest turnover, and held out her hand. He took it, absorbing the feel of soft skin and delicate bones. “I’m sorry for the earlier struggle.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Beth interrupted. “Tank owns and runs a gym nearby, and he’s an MMA fighter. He’s agreed to give us self-defense lessons.”

Beth wasn’t just smart, she was a fucking genius, and even as Jess started to shake her head, Tank cut in. “I’ve been talking to Beth about it for awhile and it would help me. I want to start doing a class, and I need to know how to structure it. This way I can figure out where to start and what would be best to teach. Plus this way I know if you and Beth are by yourselves again, I’ll worry less. So would Regan, and making Regan worry less means she won’t hurt me.”

He put enough humor in the words to make Jess relax, and just like he thought, making it seem as though Jess would be helping him out was making her hesitate and stare up at him with those big, blue eyes. “Are you sure you’d want to take the time to do that? I appreciate it, but I don’t want to mess with your schedule.”

“Like I said, I want to eventually give classes on it. You’d be doing me the favor.”

Jess bit her lip, and fucking damn, because he wanted to be the one nibbling on it. He wanted to do a lot of things to that body.

Finally she nodded. “When would be best for you?”

“Whenever you could come. My schedule is flexible.”

“I’m off tomorrow night,” she offered up cautiously, as if she were expecting him to say it was all a joke.

“Absolutely.” He pulled out a card from his wallet with the address. “Anytime after six, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.” And she finally smiled, with her eyes and that mouth and the boyfriend better step aside, because Tank wouldn’t be able to let her go.

‡

T
he gym was
something that you’d expect to see in one of those underdog boxing movies. There was nothing fancy or feminine about it. In the center was a huge ring, with a couple smaller rings catty-corner. One corner of the floor was a huge mat area, and the rest of the space was taken up by free weights, various punching bags, and a few other pieces of ropes and equipment Jess wasn’t entirely sure what to do with.

She pulled down on her tee for what felt like the hundredth time, the sense of not belonging nearly causing her to turn around. The couple other women here were either fighters themselves with the attitude and punching skills to match, or wearing the tiniest of gym gear to show off flat stomachs and toned thighs, though they themselves didn’t seem to be doing any exercising and instead were watching sweaty men with reams of muscle fight either the bags or each other.

Before she could decide on whether to stay or go, the fight in the center ring caught her eye, and it took only a minute to realize Tank was one of the fighters. Around the center ring was where most of the women were located, but, as Jess walked closer, who the hell could blame them? He was ferocious and primal, decimating the other man, the punches and kicks showing strength in a way a modern,
civilized
man couldn’t match.

The bell rang out, the verdict clear as the other man fell to the ground and Tank stood above him. The other man shook himself, after a few moments getting to his feet. He lifted his fist in comradery, and Tank smiled, the machine who had been fighting earlier now gone as he touched his fist to the other man’s. Words of encouragement and praise sailed between them.

Then Tank glanced over to her, and without saying anything else to his opponent he walked to see her from his side of the ring, his voice easy and happy as he came before her. “Jess. You ready?”

He didn’t wait for her response, merely bounded over the ropes. The other women were giving her evil glances, and Jess fought down the urge to shrink into herself.

As she followed Tank to the mat area, looking around at the gym which she didn’t belong in and with daggers being stared into her, Mike’s words from last night rose from the back of her mind. “Come on, Jess, you can’t be doing any kind of self-defense. You aren’t in good enough shape.”

They had been in Mike’s living room where Jess had just told him of her late-night adventure. Tank had dropped her off at Mike’s house, walking her to the door in an unneeded but very appreciated display. “It’s a good idea. Tonight was
scary
. If I can do something to not feel that way again, I want to.”

“But you said you guys got worked up over nothing.” Mike was drinking a beer, watching a show he had recorded from earlier, only half his attention on her even as she’d been baring her heart. “Besides, you never finish this kind of crap. You start something and stop halfway through.”

No, she didn’t stop on her own. What happened was Mike would pout and sigh because she wasn’t available to him for something, and she’d end up putting things to the side to appease him. “Not this. This is important. It might have been overreaction, but tonight showed me I should learn how to protect myself. Learn some new things.”

He snorted but said no more, his attention on his show.

They didn’t live together, but more often than not she came to his place. Suddenly, though, she wished she had gone to her home instead of here. She didn’t want to deal with Mike’s usual non-supportive attitude, and the way he didn’t bother to hold her, even after she admitted to being scared.

Instead of leaving though, she went to bed, and pushed him away when he tried to start rub her when he came to bed, his signal he wanted sex. No matter how much pouting and attitude she had to deal with tomorrow, there was nothing she wanted less at this moment.

And now she was here, in front of Tank, surrounded by women who were built like models and so unsure and raw inside she wanted to hide, or quit like Mike accused her of doing.

Tank had been talking to her, some basic safety stuff, but he was looking at her, and then he gave a nod. He pulled away. “Alright everyone, gym’s closed. Everyone out.”

A small chorus of descent arose at the proclamation – especially from the women – but Tank didn’t listen to any of it. He said again, “No one’s working out anyway. Gym’s closed. Get out.” He turned his back on the other occupants and leaned low to her to say, “Not you.”

It took five minutes and lots of grumbles before the gym cleared, and Tank said, “You ready now?”

“You cleared the gym for me?”

“You looked uncomfortable. I wasn’t going to have your night ruined by people standing around.”

There was an unexpected sweetness beneath the vicious fighter which was readily visible. She’d seen both aspects of him last night and today, and the yin-and-yang of him shook her. “Thank you, but it’s not their fault I’m self-conscious.”

“Don’t know what you have to be self-conscious of. You’re built like Marilyn Monroe.” Tank said it without build-up, without affectation. It was natural, the words coming out like he was talking about the weather.

She didn’t know how to take that.
Fat cow
was what she usually heard, not a comparison to one of the most beautiful women in history. “That’s nice of you to say–”

Tank closed the gap between them in one swift move. His dark eyes were hot, burning through her and lighting sparks off her skin which she hadn’t felt…ever. “I’m not nice. Don’t ever think I am. You’re a fucking knock-out, and don’t let anyone fuck with your head and tell you otherwise.”

He turned away then, and the rest of the night was as she would expect any lesson to go. He was near her, touched her, but no more than she would expect from a class, and when it was over, when she was breathing hard and dripping with sweat, he flung the towel at her with a smile, grinning at the small glare she gave him. It was friendly, but he did nothing improper.

And when she went home – to her own home, even though Mike called and wanted her to come over – it was Tank she thought about and dreamt about that night.

‡

“W
hat the
fuck
do you mean, Devil’s back?” Tank’s hands curled into fists, the urge to beat the shit out of something tearing through him. That no-good fuck coming back, now that he had found his mate? Fucker was dead the minute he saw him.

Razor was standing to the side while Steel and Regan sat in Steel’s living room. Beth wasn’t anywhere around, neither were any of the other wolves. It figured Steel would let Tank hear this first, though. The others would be informed later, but fucking right he deserved to know first.

Only Cage had more right to know about Devil then Tank did.

“Sorry, man,” Razor said, all his body language apologetic. “By the time I got back, he was gone. I should have been thinking clearer, but…”

It was funny to see Razor turn fucking
pink
, and even with this news hanging over them, Tank laughed. “I’m so happy. Our little boy is now a man.” And he was happy. Razor had loved Aaliyah forever. Damn right Tank was happy his friend now had his dream fulfilled.

Still pink, Razor flipped him off. “Don’t be a hater because I got a gorgeous mate and you don’t.”

Tank should’ve been quicker talking, but Jess’s face came to him, then, that concentration as she followed his directions tonight in their private class. She’d been so studious, so determined. There was no flirting, no playing around.

On one hand, he’d been disappointed, because there was nothing more he would’ve liked more than to be given the green light to let things progress with her. But on the other, he admired everything about her that tonight told him. How she was loyal, because she had a boyfriend, and she didn’t disrespect him by flirting with other men. How she wasn’t wasting Tank’s time. How focused she was, and how fierce, and how much joy she took in accomplishment, like in the way she smiled when she broke out of Tank’s hold the first time.

“Tank, what kind of smile is that? What the hell you thinking of?” Razor’s voice cut through the memory, and Tank looked up to see the shit-eating grin on his best friend, and the raised eyebrows on Regan and Steel.

Fuck.

“Nothing.” But no, that answer wasn’t going to fly, and the looks on all three faces told him that.

Steel gave him a reprieve. “I’ll spread the word about Devil. You two take care. Things have now gone from bad to worse.”

They both nodded and left, and as soon as they were out the door, Razor punched him on the arm. “Who the fuck is she?”

Tank didn’t even put up a fight. Razor knew him better than anyone, so it would only be wasted energy anyway. “Friend of Beth’s.”

“Your true mate?”

“Yeah.” And fuck if suddenly Tank didn’t feel giddy with it, with the knowledge he’d found
her
, the one most of their kind thought about and wondered over and, in their quietest, most secret heart, wished for. He was a fucking thirteen-year old girl. All he needed was the diary with hearts on it. “Why didn’t you tell me it felt like this?”

“Impossible to tell, man. It just is.”

Yeah, that was true. There were no words for the overwhelming crush of emotions, the sheer range of feelings that had been sliding through him since he’d first had Jess in his arms. “She’s amazing.”

“Yep, I know that.” Razor’s goofy grin was probably more a reaction to his own mate than to Tank’s news, but Tank forgave him that. Razor had been waiting ten years for his bitch to come back; he was allowed to revel in it now that it’d happened. “Gorgeous and perfect and a miracle. She know about us?”