Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 151

Tank POV

Prez had his phone on the table, driving us all crazy as it constantly vibrated, with more and more responses since the messages went out. It was made crystal clear: what time and lateness will not be tolerated. Guess others are agreeing or trying to change the times, but either way, Prez won’t bother checking till tomorrow. Now was the time for the members who stayed, and to enjoy the rest of the night, keeping them proactive and happy, and included in the splinter group decision, the leadership team agreed that the members should have a voice in this issue, they would be hurting as much as we were, and needed to be part of any terms of acceptance for any returning members.

By nine, Prez was looking at the gate often, and I could guess he was worried and needed to get back to Sticks.

“Hey, busy day tomorrow, can we go home?” Fixer whispered as she nuzzled my neck, and wiggling on my lap, and yeah, you guessed it, my shaft rose to the occasion.

I didn’t answer, I tightened my grip on her, and stood up.

“Night.” I growled out, good-naturedly, and headed for the gate, ‘Night’ and ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and other suggestive comments followed me into the darkness, the gate I could see, lights of our home still burned bright, leading us home. Fixer reached out and touched the security pad on the gate, and the click of the lock sounded like a purr in my ears. My shaft reacted by pulsing harder in my jeans.

I kicked the gate closed, and I couldn’t get through the back door fast enough. I nodded to the shadow that moved in the darkness, the movement was meant to show me he was there, our silent guards, who will be forever near, just for my little lady. I am glad, in a way, that they are here for her; the chance of her being hurt eases my mind, as I am sure every male feels when they are not near their chosen one. I raced up the stairs, and through our bedroom door, booting it closed, and made it to our bed in three long strides. Lowered my precious cargo, gently down on the bed, and stood back, looking her over, from head to toe.

“My turn,” Fixer whispered, her eyes full of lust and promise, and slid off the bed.

Fixer started by gently guiding me to sit on the bed and I let her move me about as she wanted. Kneeling before me, she removed my boots and set them aside, then my socks, and tucked them into my boots, like they were something fragile. Slaw, deliberate movements. I wanted her to speed up; my need was calling out to me to get on with the job, but Fixer had her own agenda and took her time.

Standing, she took off my Cut and walked over to the chair, placed it on the back, removed hers, and did the same to the next chair. Then she returned to me, carefully removed the T-shirt, folded it, and placed it next to my boots.

“Stand for a moment.” She whispered hoarsely.

I stood, and they worked on my belt, zipper, then slid down my jeans.

“Really, Tank, don’t you ever wear underwear?” I went commando again.

“Yes.” I grinned.

“When?” she asked, folding the jeans and placing them on top of the boots and shirt.

“When we go to official events, like going to town for the lawyer, although he tends to be here more than in town now, or when I get to meet your Grams officially. Don’t think I should visit them, commando, it doesn’t feel right. “I am positive half the time, I just can’t be bothered to have the boxers on, and too lazy other times, easy to just pul on jeans, and be done with it. Plus, I know it annoys her when I go commando, and I like to annoy her in little ways.

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