Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 316

Tracey POV

Doom was on fire, bringing me to my ecstasy fast.

Like.

WOW.

This man makes my body roar with delightful pleasure, with hardly any effort, or so it seems.

I grabbed two towels as I fled the bathroom, feeling embarrassed at how fast I came. Like a magic, d**k or what, and those fingers, like one touch on the right place, and I nearly came before he even entered me.

What’s wrong with me? In the past, I was lucky to reach my pleasure before my ex rolled over, content, bragging about how good it was. Yet, I felt empty and incomplete, using my own fingers

to finish the job once he had fallen asleep. But not with Doom, he has me screaming his name in

record time.

I slipped on some panties, then took some more painkillers. The thought of putting on a bra was too much, so I slipped a shirt over it. Today I will be without a bra and see how that goes. I managed to pull on some track pants before Doom came rushing out of the bathroom and looked at me with disappointment. I thought he would want to dress me, but I needed to stay active and keep my arm moving, or it would seize up. Plus, I need to see Tempest; she needs some more therapy. I don’t have to do the massage part, but I do need to ensure she keeps up her training; losing even one whole day makes a difference.

“Didn’t you need my help?” Doom pouted like a young boy, having lost his favourite toy.

“You can dry my hair,” I suggested. His eyes lit up, and a smile bloomed across his face, as if I had just found that lost toy.

He was beside me in two strides, taking the towel from my hands, and rubbing my hair gently with the towel. Then reached for the brush and hair dryer and started brushing and blow–drying my hair.

Wow, could this man get any better?

Nope, stop comparing Doom to the deadbeats you’ve had before; it’s not healthy, plus I shouldn’t need to. Doom’s already proved to be far better than any man I know, in a very short time.

Hair complete. He then put my socks and joggers on my feet, before finishing drying himself and getting dressed. I saw him wince a few times, and I wondered how bad he really was, as Doom was good at hiding pain.

When I stood up and took a few steps to collect the towels, Doom’s deep voice growled out.

III

“Stop, let me do that.” I stood and turned to look at him, but his eyes moved to my chest and were glued there.

“You are not wearing a bra!” Yep, he was fixated on my bouncing babes.

“Wow, are you Einstein? You worked that out in seconds.” I smiled, baiting him.

“Well, it was hard not to notice them jiggling under your shirt. Does the bra hurt your shoulder? Or did you not feel like wearing one? Or something else?” Wonder what he thought ‘something else‘

was.

“I didn’t feel like wearing one, the drag on the shoulder would end up with an ache at the end of the day. Can’t a girl go without a bra for one day?” I asked, trying to look like a sad puppy, giving him the slight shake of the lip.

Doom’s eyes widened as he took on my face and my quivering lip.

“Tracey, this is Alan, a police chief from our hometown.” Fixer introduced him; I had already met the

others.

“Hello Alan, pleased to meet you.” He shook my hand, tapped Doom on the shoulder and sat back

down.

“Alan is here as an observer, and off the record,” Storm added when we were all seated.

“Two men died. Dawson won’t last much longer due to blood loss from having his d**k removed. Even though the doctor tied the end off, it weakened him significantly. We doubt we shall get any

real answers from him, anyway; his mind was too distorted, and he, according to the doctor, was living in his own fantasy, most likely from too much drug use, a big flaw of some dealers. If you deal, you shouldn’t use the product. The so–called excuse of testing the quality died out years ago. The van he was traveling in is in the garage, being pulled apart, in the hope of finding answers there. I have given his laptop and phone to Tempest, which is why we had her fly in this morning. Tempest was the best in this field and would discover anything hidden. Alan was there to listen and gather information for his team. He wanted closure, too, and if Dawson was the only one bringing in drugs to his town and ours, then he needed to know and be satisfied it was over. With Alan’s quick mind and knowledge, he often asks questions we had not thought of. Tempest scanned the house while we waited for you to shower and change, and found a few listening devices that have since been silenced, as we don’t know how long ago they were placed. Footage of those areas is being checked, day by day, and we hope to find the person. Tempest was helping with that, too, having created a code to speed it up and skip sections of the footage with no activity.” Tank gave his spiel and sat down, having been pacing his room as he spoke, keeping his mind on what he wanted to say, and not looking at any of us, until he was done.

“Do you have a disposal site for the dead here, as you have in our town?” Alan asked, having learned about how Uncle Simon disposed of bodies in the past.

“Yes, we do, actually have one on this property, as we make our own manure, from the chickens and other livestock we have on the property, and kitchen waste. Don’t worry, those men will never leave this property and will feed our roses,” Gramps answered Alan, with a sly smile, revealing something I didn’t know, and frankly don’t want to know about.

Gone was gone as far as I was concerned.