Tank (4 page)

“I want you to fuck me against the wall,” she whispered, making this strong, proud man shudder. “I want you buried inside me, fucking me hard and fast, making me lose my mind and scream your name. Can you do that for me, Tank? Can you drive me insane?”

She barely finished speaking when his mouth took hers, his tongue battling hers for dominance. She was let go for only a moment, only enough time to feel her pants ripped from her body, before she was picked up again and pressed against the horizontal surface, his hot body crushing hers against the cool wall, his fingers playing with her already drenched pussy, replaced almost immediately with the tip of his cock.

He sank inside her, slow and steady and without hesitation, the same assuredness which he began to move inside her. He was big, stretching her and filling her, and he felt, he felt
so good
, and then his fingers came to her clit, and
there
, right
there
.

Jess was panting, straining to chase the feeling which was growing inside her, moving her body against his in counterpoint to his thrusts. It was heaven, it was maddening, it was too much and not enough and she worked against him, crying out against his mouth, without words begging him to take her over into pleasure.

Then it hit her, her body tightening on his, and his own shout of pleasure was far away, barely heard through her own cries, her own shudders of pleasure, and she fell against him, safe in his arms, content and trusting him to keep her safe.

*

Fingertips trailing down
her arm. “What else?”

She tucked her head under his chin. “Why is it so embarrassing to talk about?”

“Maybe you’re not used to sharing.”

Her voice was quiet, small, hesitant. “I always wanted to try anal.”

“Yeah?” There was a smile in his voice, but no teasing. “Luckily for you, I’m good at that.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve gotten compliments and orgasms; sometimes in that order.”

She smacked his arm.

*

“Why did you
get the tattoos?”

He sighed, a faraway note to the sound. “Friends daring each other to do stupid shit.”

“Is that all?” That couldn’t be all, not with the wistful tone he said it in.

“Some of it is. The tattoo on my neck. Razor has a tattoo like that as well, some saying, though honestly I forget what he put. It’s his only tattoo, and it falls under that category.”

A brush against the large, stylized portrait of the wolf and sun covering his arm. “But not this one.”

“We had a friend…”

“Where is he?”

“Doesn’t matter. Wherever he is, he’s not him anymore.”

*

“Why a librarian?”

“Beauty and the Beast.”

Shocked laughter. “What?”

“To win her love, the Beast gives Belle the most gorgeous library. I decided I wasn’t going to wait for someone to give me my library. I was getting my own. That way, I never had to worry about it getting taken away.”

“So if you had to choose between me and books…?”

“You really are better off never asking me that question.”

*

“What do you
like?”

“Everything.” Another quick smack against his skin. “You’re kind of violent. You like smacking me an awful lot.”

“I’ll kiss it better later.”

“Go head and smack me again.”

“As I was asking… What do you like? I already shared some things with you. Turnabout and all that.”

“Being restrained.”

“Like…tied up? Handcuffed?”

“You sound shocked.”

“I kind of am. You seem like you always want to be in charge.”

“I am always in charge. A little rope or metal wrapped around me doesn’t change that fact.”

“Why do you like it, then?”

“Edge of danger? Smallest possibility of harm? I’m sure there’s something going on there.”

“I could wear something leather, but I don’t own any leather.”

“Take all my credit cards
right now
.”

*

“Why a fighter?”

“It makes sense to me. Me and my opponent in the ring. Everything stripped down and raw. I don’t do subtle. I like everything laid out.”

“Like this?”

“You, I like laid out
very much
.”

*

“I have naughty
librarian fantasies.”

“That’s a shock.”

“Please tell me you have glasses.”

“…I have glasses.”

‡

“Y
ou look way
too somber for a man who not only found his true mate, but is sleeping with her.”

Tank looked up from the heavy bag to find Razor at the side. Said something for his frame of mind that he didn’t register his pack mate coming in.

Razor must have caught something, because he motioned towards Tank’s office with his head. “C’mon man, let’s chit-chat.”

“Is it sewing circle time? I didn’t bring my thread.” Despite the pissy tone, Tank followed, throwing himself into his desk chair while Razor sat himself across.

“Well?” Razor prompted, when all Tank did was lean his head back and sigh.

“Sex is not enough. My life is fucked if I’m making that statement.”

Razor waited a beat before asking, “Is it good sex?”

“It’s the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” Tank said, no hesitation and no smile to accompany the words.

“Man, you are in trouble then.”

“Yeah.” There were several beats of silence, but Tank didn’t drag it out too long. Razor had a way of getting any information he wanted, whether Tank intended to tell him or not. There was something to be said for pulling the bandage off fast. “I think I’m a rebound. Her ex was piss-poor. Sounds like he never encouraged her in shit, made her feel inadequate. I think she’s experimenting with me, using me as a safe way to spread her wings.”

“And after those horizons are broadened?”

Tank pushed himself up, the violence in him needing movement to release some of the tension. “I can’t lose her. I can’t let her find some acceptable-to-society boy she can take to library functions, someone without tattoos who doesn’t beat the shit out of others for a living. Who doesn’t turn into a wolf.”

“You don’t know any of this for sure. She’s not wolf. She doesn’t know she’s everything to you yet. She might feel just as much for you, but out there, no one would ever claim her this fast. She wouldn’t say anything for fear of getting hurt.”

“Yeah,” but Tank’s voice was doubtful.

“Don’t
yeah
me. You know I’m telling truth. Give it a little longer, then lay how you’re feeling on her. She’s your true mate, and she might be crazy enough to love your dumbass just as it is.”

As he reached
his front door, Tank drew a deep breath, shaking off the piss-poor mood that was creeping up with the thoughts he’d shared with Razor.

Jess was staying with him this weekend, and he didn’t want their time ruined. What he wanted was to be buried balls deep inside his woman as often as possible during the next forty-eight hours, and if he did his job right, she wouldn’t be going into work Monday and possibly Tuesday as well.

Hell no, she wouldn’t be making it in Tuesday.

“Jess,” he called, when opening the door showed no sign of his lovely tormentor.