above the asphalt lot and slices of green grass. .
After the fourth ring, he was ready to end the call when Lena picked up and answered drowsily, “Hello?”
Hearing her voice brought a smile to his face.
“Did I wake you?”
“Tank?” Sounding surprised to hear his voice, he smiled.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
He heard shuffling in the background, like she was trying to sit up in bed.
“It’s a little late for that. I left the parking lot nearly three hours ago.”
He chuckled. “You’re ornery when your beauty sleep is disturbed.”
“I need all the help I can get,” she groaned.
“You know that’s bullshit.”
“Where are you?”
Tank looked over at two members fucking one of the women on the lawn in front of the club and said, “Getting ready to take a ride.”
“At this hour?”
“It’s the best time. The only sounds will be my bike and the waves. It’s fuckin’ awesome. I’ll have to take you sometime.”
There was no response.
“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were good. I gotta go.”
“Tank?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you called. Goodnight.”
“Nite.”
Slipping the phone into his pocket, Tank jumped on his bike. He had no idea why he’d called her, but he was glad he did. An unfamiliar warmth spread through him, making his cock twitch at the thought of her in bed, snuggled underneath the covers.
Bringing his Harley to life, he sped out of the lot and headed for Pacific Coast Highway.
The moon was full and the night peaceful. The only thing missing was Lena pressed against his back, those sexy thighs of hers wrapped tight around his.
Fuck.
Groaning low in his throat, he gripped the handlebars and twisted the throttle to make the bike go faster, trying to outrun the desire racing through his blood. But it was no good. Some part of her had already taken root inside of him, and he had no clue what the hell to do about it.
Tank
“I don’t think he’s coming, bro,” Maniac surmised.
Tank cursed under his breath and rubbed his jaw, still watching the entrance to the clubhouse. As much as he hated to admit it, Maniac was fucking right: Raptor wasn’t walking through those doors. Church was supposed to have started fifteen minutes before, and the members were getting antsy.
“If any of us were late for church, Raptor would tear us a new asshole, so why the fuck are we letting him get away with this shit?” Shark fumed, pounding his fist on the table.
“This disrespect is more fuckin’ proof that the brotherhood isn’t the first thing on his mind,” Hammer growled. There was a low chorus of agreement from the back corner where a majority of the vice president’s supporters hung out lately since the dissension in ranks. “Are we just gonna wait for Raptor to decide we’re more important than whatever else is going on in his life? Suspend everything we got going on within the club until he decides to give a fuck? The club isn’t something a president can ignore until the fuckin’ timing is right for him. This disrespect is a reflection on his fuckin’ view of the brotherhood as a damn whole.”
Hammer stalked around the room, gesturing with his hands and getting the men riled up. Ignoring the small tick in his jaw that was quickly working its way into a headache, Tank tipped his chair back until it rested against the wall. The whole damn situation was a total clusterfuck. He didn’t see any way through or around it, so long as Raptor kept fucking up his responsibilities.
Tank probably understood what Raptor was going through more than most of the brothers. He knew what it was like to have a family member sick as hell, needing attention and support. That kind of fear and sadness rocked through a family and never let up, not until there was a miracle and the person got better, or… Fuck. Tank shook his head, unwilling to think of the other alternative. Either way, he and Raptor were in the same spot. Raptor’s son was fighting for his life, and Tank’s mother was slipping away. Family was damn important, and that was the one constant he and his president shared above all else. But Tank understood where the members’ anger and sense of betrayal was coming from, and that couldn’t be ignored. Yep, nothing but a damn clusterfuck.
Groaning, he shifted up and out of the chair, tuning out whatever the hell Hammer was