Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 39

Tank POV

That game was good.

The skills were high, as the guys weren’t completely drunk yet.

The guys’ morale was rising as the game progressed, which was what we needed after that meeting, which left a sour feeling in my stomach.

I managed to get through most of the rounds without playing at the same time as Max, so I could watch her, shaking her booty, like a professional. I knew what she was doing, and I bet the other guys did too, but we still looked at the show and enjoyed it.

I don’t mind agreeing with most of the guys that she was good, and I was proud of her, she was not giving an inch in this competition. If she broke, the challenger wouldn’t have to step up to the table. I can’t say I have ever seen a person manage to clear the table so many times in a row.

I was in the semi-final, and was relieved I wasn’t playing against Max. I doubt I would be able to concentrate for long. Every time she leaned over to shoot the ball, I got hard. It was something I had little control over, my shaft had a mind of its own.

I was down to my last ball, and I heard a cheer. I missed my shot, sending it to the pocket, but it failed to drop in. I turned to look at Max. She was at the table after the guy missed a shot, and by the way, he put his cue away and grabbed a beer; I guess he’d already accepted defeat.

The guy cleaned up the rest of his ball in my game and patted me on the shoulder.

“That girl cost you the game, buddy, got to get a hold of those emotions when you play.” He slurred, but I don’t think he was as drunk as he portrayed himself to be. Maybe trying to lure Max into thinking he was too drunk to play.

Max was up, and at each ball she sank, the crowd cheered, loud and encouragingly. Someone had been keeping score on how many balls she had hit in a row and not missed. It was a lot. Think she broke the record we set years ago, and no one has matched it since.

I rushed over and scooped her up, twirling her in a circle, when she sank the last ball, and won.

Then I watched the reactions of three ladies and the rush to claim their winnings. Even Max had bet on herself, and that she would share the pot for winning with those three ladies, right in front of us all.

Counting out the money on the table, in piles of four. To the envy of those who hadn’t bet on Max. The other ladies also looked miffed; they, too, hadn’t put their money on Max. I guess they had no clue, or didn’t think she could last to the end.

“We were scammed.” One of the guys called out.

“Nah, you would have joined even if you knew how good Max was.” Another chimed in, and I agree, even Max can miss a ball, and you hope it was against you when she does.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have believed the girls,” another added, and more agreed. They wouldn’t have believed it until they saw it happen.

“You did well, little lady.” I pulled her to me and snuggled her neck, leaving trails of kisses.

“Bedtime?” She asked, with a yawn.

I picked her up, and she squealed in shock as I walked her out of the games room to the cheers and lewd chants from many in the room. Max hid her face against my chest, and I didn’t need to look at her to know she was blushing. Making it up the stairs two at a time, Max unlocked the door, still in my arms, and I kicked the door further open. Placing her gently on the bed.

I pulled off her boots, threw them across the room, and removed her jeans. So far, she hadn’t resisted me. Her eyes never left my face, and when I glanced at her, she smiled, but didn’t say a word. I lifted her slightly and removed her top, leaving her in her bra and panties. Then covered her with a blanket.

To my surprise, she rolled over and snuggled into her pillow. By the time I got out of the shower and climbed into bed, Max was fast asleep.

The beeping sound of my phone alarm woke me. I rolled over and turned it off, rubbed my eyes, threw off the blankets, headed to the bathroom to relieve myself, then washed and came back out. Max was dressed and ready to ride.

“Max, can I ask a favor?” I started sheepishly as I pulled on my jeans.

“Ask, can’t guarantee I will do it though.” She replied truthfully, but with a cheesy grin.

“Will you ride on the back of me for this trip? It’s our first time together, and I would like to feel you close to me, rather than seeing you in my mirror,” I asked, not giving her the whole truth, but enough, I hoped.

“Is it just you? Or did Prez suggest it?” She cottoned on quickly, and I won’t lie, that’s no way to start to gain trust.

“A bit of both, Prez suggested I talk to you. He worried about us going near the Jones turf, and he didn’t know your riding skills, and me? Because I loved having you behind me when I had you on the back, feeling your hands around me, and I want that again.”

She didn’t answer straight away, leaving me to get dressed in silence.

“Okay, but don’t make a habit of it, I like to ride too.” My chest bloomed with emotion that I couldn’t explain as we walked downstairs to the kitchen.

Max put snacks and a few bottles of water in her backpack, and who knows what else was in there? I assumed what a girl needs for an overnight camp, because she didn’t pack any extra clothes. We ate a quick meal, and followed the others out the door, grabbed our bikes. Mine was where I had left it.

Prez had a group of admirers around his bike, and Max had finished the paint job. Everyone was admiring the design. Prez had the biggest grin on his face.

Max walked to her bike to grab her lid. I watched her for a little bit, enjoying the sway of her hips; she was a knock-out.

“Did you talk to her?” Prez asked me as he came to stand beside me as I filled my side bags with essentials.

“Yeah, she will blowfly,” I replied. He slapped me on the back.

“Good man.” He left me to get his own bike, and Sticks followed close behind, giving me a dirty look as she went by, and I wondered what I had done to deserve that.

“Ready?” I asked. When Max got back, she had removed her jacket and was pushing her hair back before putting the leather back on, keeping her hair secured. Zipped up the jacket and put on her lid. Her face shone from the sunscreen she had put on. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, and her lips glistened from lip gloss, which was most likely to keep them from cracking.

“I’m now,” she said as she pulled on some gloves to protect her hands from windburn.

I threw my leg over the bike and stood, balancing the bike between my legs, and motioned for Max to get on. Once on, I sat and got comfortable, and started her up.

The roar of forty bikes starting up filled the air-the smell of fumes and oil.

Many are watching us leave; they won’t be on this trip. It was couples-only, on this one, and I am so grateful I had Max, or I would have been one of them. The singles look after the children whilst we are gone, and let’s be truthful here, some of those kids are spoiled brats. Last time, I had some of them try my patients; they can be a handful.

Being VP, I was no longer the one at the end, looking after the back, watching for trouble and breakdowns. A van will follow as closely as possible behind us, carrying tents and other gear. Maybe Max gave her bags to that crew to bring. I didn’t see her pack anything, so I can’t be sure.

Prez started us off, and I went to be to the side but a little behind him, followed by Bruiser, the rest, making their own place in the run. We rode casually through the streets till we reached a place where we could open up the throttle, and let the ride truly begin.

The wind in my face, fresh air in my lungs, and a good lady holding on to my waist.

This was life.

I love it.

Riding calms my nerves and clears my head.

Occasionally, you get to smell roadkill and death.

In the skies, you see eagles and hawks in the air currents, making almost no movement with their wings.

On a bike, you get to see, feel, and smell so much more than in a vehicle.

I moved my hand to rub Max’s thigh, acknowledging she was there, and she squeezed my waist in response.

The wind was at our backs, the sun to our side, and the air filled with the rumble of our bikes. We slowed when we reached a small town, people coming out to watch us ride by, some waving to us, the children calling out.

The towns closest to us know we are friendly and have helped other small towns when in need. They don’t see bikers as a threat.