Page 16 of Tank
“You’ll take however many I say,” Tank bellows, landing three spanks in succession onto my left cheek. “I’m in charge. I’m calling this. You’ll be an obedient young man and take whatever medicine Daddy gives you!”
I bite my lip and stick my ass out even further, my hands wrapping around the tree and my cock still hard, despite the pain I’m in.
“Y-y-y-y-y-yes, Daddy,” I moan.
And Tank rounds the spanking off with a further six triple-spanks on each cheek. I almost collapse as the final spank lands, but Tank reaches in and holds me up before bringing me in close.
“I’m here for you,” Tank says, his voice suddenly warmer as I bury my face into his broad chest. “Whatever it is that’s going on with you, I’m there for it. I’ll protect you. I’ll make you safe. And I’ll get you back to the clubhouse and get some ice cold cans of beer on those rosy cheeks too, you’ll see.”
I nod and shut my eyes.
My ass is on fire, but in Tank’s embrace I feel safer than I have in a very long time.
But I know that the truth of the matter isverydifferent. If Tank knew why I was getting close to him, I’d be dead meat. I guess I’ll have to play the messed up rebel just a little longer, and then I’ll do what my father sent me to do…
Chapter 5
Tank
The clubhouse is alive tonight, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the clink of beer bottles. The jukebox is pumping out some old-school rock, and the boys are scattered around, laughing, arguing, blowing off steam after a long day.
I’m leaning against the bar, a whiskey in my hand, my eyes locked on the pool table in the corner. Rocco’s there, cue in hand, grinning like he owns the place. He’s playing against Keegan, Arch’s boy, and the two of them are getting along like they’ve known each other for years.
Keegan’s all sharp wit and quick moves, his hair falling into his eyes as he lines up a shot, but Rocco’s holding his own, his lean frame relaxed but focused. That cocky smirk of his hasn’t left his face since we got back from the overlook.
My cock is still tingling from the memory of what went down out there. Rocco, pressed against that tree, his jeans around his ankles, his skin red under my hands. The way he called me “Daddy,” his voice breaking with want, even as he yelped from the sting.
It was more than just punishment—it was a connection, raw and real, and it’s got me all kinds of fucked up. I can still feel his body against mine when I pulled him close after, his face buried in my chest, like he was looking for something safe in the middle of his own storm.
But safe’s the last thing he is.
That Fury bike, the knife on the doorstep, the way he pushes my buttons—it’s all screaming trouble. And yet, here I am, watching him laugh with Keegan, wanting him closer.
Arch is next to me, nursing a beer, his eyes flicking between the pool game and me.
“Kid’s got charm,” Arch says, his voice low so only I can hear. “Fits right in. You sure about him, though?”
I grunt, taking a sip of whiskey to cover the twist in my gut.
“Not sure about shit,” I say, a wry smile on my face. “I don’t buy the drifter act. That Fury emblem’s no accident.”
Arch nods, his hair catching the dim light.
“Yeah, that bike’s a problem. And that knife? Same emblem,” Arch says, his voice low. “Someone’s sending a message, and I’m betting it’s him.”
I clench my jaw, the memory of that rose-and-barbed-wire handle flashing in my mind. I found it on the doorstep at dawn, right where Rocco—if it actually was Rocco—must’ve left it. The kid’s bold, I’ll give him that.
“I’m digging into him,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Got Twitch asking around town, checking for anyone who knows a Rocco. Kid’s hiding something, and I wanna know what.”
Arch leans closer, his voice dropping.
“You think he’s tied to The Fury? I mean, they’re gone, Tank,” Arch says. “We made sure of that fifteen years ago. But…” He trails off, his eyes narrowing like he’s remembering something.
“But what?” I ask, my grip tightening on the glass.
Arch hesitates, then sighs.
“The turf war. You remember Marco? Their sergeant-at-arms. Big guy, mean as hell. You fucked him up bad, left him crippled,” Arch says. “Word was he had a kid. Young, back then. What if…” He glances at Rocco, who’s laughing as Keegan misses a shot. “What if that’shim?”
