Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 20

Maxine POV

Today went by in a flash, but even with me being busy getting the final touches done in the workshop, an undercurrent of something else was going on, the whispers I couldn’t quite catch, the looks that Tank was being given. The atmosphere was like it was building to a party, but we had no party tonight, so it wasn’t very clear. I tried to concentrate on my work and not listen to the gossip that floated into the workshop.

Cricket, in her exuberant way, came bouncing in to drag me away for dinner. I had lost track of time and hadn’t noticed it was past the usual time for dinner, maybe because I had been in the kitchen helping prepare, and time can slip away quickly when you are chatting with the ladies.

Tank made sure I had a full plate before we went into the club rooms, and taking a seat, the place hummed with some hidden excitement, like they were expecting something to happen, but not sure what.

Then the Prez came forward and announced Tank as VP. This was a huge promotion, not just for the new workload he would undertake, but also for the respect the club and officials had for him. I understood not everyone had what it takes to be an official.

I clapped and cheered along with everyone else, excited at what had just been announced.

“Thank you for the trust you have in me. I will do my best to honor the patch.” He said as he took the patch, I could hear in his voice that he was all choked up at this honor.

“Any special you want to announce or ask while you are up here?” The Prez pushed, looking at me with a smirk.

No, he wouldn’t, would he?

“Yeah, I do. Max, can you come up here?” Damn it, looks like my waiting-to-wait was over. I had to make up my mind and fast.

Do I want a boyfriend?

I like Tank; he treats me like he sees me, and not as an obligation.

Walking to the front, I can feel every eye on me, and Tank looking worried as I approach, I don’t think he had intended to do this, but he would look weak if he didn’t and one thing I have learned over the years with the guys that hand around at the bike shop, was they hate looking weak, to anyone.

He looked at me, a little unsure of himself, or maybe the situation was out of his control, and he was just as worried about being stuck out here in front of everyone. Or perhaps he was concerned about how it would look if I said no, in front of everyone; it wouldn’t look good for him.

Then, as if making up his mind, he pulled me to him, so I was flush against him, one hand on the back of my head, the other around my waist. I was going nowhere fast, and then he lowered his head and gave me a searing kiss, like a mind-blowing, hot, breath-taking kiss. Full of passion and longing all rolled into one.

I didn’t know which way was up. If it hadn’t been holding onto me, I am positive I would have hit the floor in a puddle of goo. My knees went weak; nothing had prepared me for this kind of kiss. I hadn’t even realised one could be like this. It made my lady part throb with a need I hadn’t felt before. I felt alive and wanted more. At the same time, I needed to pull away and catch my breath.

The blood that was rushing through my ears settled, and I heard wolf whistles and other chants and cheers as Tank slowly removed his lips from mine and looked me in the eyes.

“Tell me you are mine.” He asked in a husky voice, which told me he was as affected by the kiss as I was. His voice was loud enough for the room to go quiet as they waited for my answer.

I should have my head, yes, I couldn’t say no in front of everyone like this.

“Use words, my little lady; they need to hear you accept me,” he said, his eyes looked like they were on fire.

“I am yours,” I said louder, but not by much, but it was enough for cheers to roar out in the room, a double celebration had started. I wouldn’t get a cut to say I am his ole lady, not yet. We have a ways to go before that, but the men and women now know Tank was taken, and so was I. That gave me a certain amount of gang protection, and I get to scratch the eyes out of any woman who tries to take him from me.

Tank lifted me up, swung me around, gave me another kiss, then carried me back to the girls, where he sat and held me on his lap. The guys came over to congratulate him on making VP and for taking a woman. He was on cloud nine, with all the attention.

I gained a glass of cordial so I could drink to the toasts they were calling out, and I am sure I was getting redder and redder as the night progressed from the lewd suggestions some of the now more than drunk guys were saying; alcohol removed any filter, not that many had one in the first place, but what restraint they had in the beginning faded away with each drink the drank. Till many were singing ditties and old rock music. Instead of the stereo belting out tunes, the guys brought out guitars and drums, one had a mouth organ, and soon singing began. This was nothing like what I had imagined; some of these guys could carry a tune.

Tank joined in on a song, and his deep baritone voice vibrated through my body, making me swoon. He had a great voice.

“Can you play?” Tank asked, when there was a lull in the music, the guitarist went to the can, leaving his guitar on the nearby table.

“Yeah, my Grandpa taught me,” I replied shyly.

“Play something for me.’ One of the guys nearby heard us talking and reached for the guitar, then handed it to me. I climbed off Tank’s lap and sat on a stool. I strummed the guitar a few times, as I thought about what to sing..

I loved Guns N Roses, so I sang one of their songs, “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” At first, everyone just stared at me, then, when one guy joined in on the drums, the whole room soon was singing, dancing, or just clapping along.

Guess I picked the right song.

The guy who owned the guitar stood nearby and waited till I finished the song, before taking his guitar back.

“You made this old thing sing like I hadn’t heard it be played like that in years.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I thanked him anyway. To me, he played well, and I was rusty, but it was nice to play again. I don’t know what happened to Grandpa’s guitar; it might still be at Dad’s house, though I wasn’t going to hunt it down. They were dead to me, so anything they still had of mine or my grandparents was lost.

The night wore on, and I started to yawn. I could see Tank wanted to stay longer, but I needed sleep.

“I am going to bed; you stay and enjoy the festivities.”

He hesitated, looking at the guys and the fun, because this was his night to celebrate and was the center of attention.

‘You don’t mind?” He asked, still unsure.

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I did, just don’t come to bed smelling of another woman, because that would just piss me off.” I joked. The look on his face was priceless.

“I would never cheat.” He sounded wounded, but give a guy enough booze, and they belongs to anyone. I don’t blame a woman for trying to jump his bones, but Tank would have to be the one to accept the attention or send the woman away. This was my trust issue, my doubts, believing all men give in when given the right temptation.

Was mine, but what can I say, guys are guys, and my track record with keeping them interested and not cheating was so far zero. I hadn’t expected that to change any time so I gave him one last kiss and said goodnight to those at our table, then left.

Upstairs, you could feel the beat of the music downstairs, but it was not too invasive to stop me from falling asleep fairly quickly.