I settle on my knees beside him, and take hold of his cock, sliding my hand up his hard length. He groans, and I feel him relax further into the bed. I lower my head and run my tongue along the slit, collecting a sticky drop of pre-cum and I swallow it down, and then I swallow him down too, all the way to the base of his cock, until I’m gagging on it.
“Fuck,” he groans, and pushes his hips towards me.
This time I do choke. And I release him, my throat burning and eyes watering. “Bastard.”
“You love it.”
“I love you,” I whisper, with a grin. And he sends me this pleading look in an attempt to direct my mouth back to his cock. I narrow my eyes when he doesn’t respond, and he rolls his.
“You need me to do this now?” he asks, exasperated. I just glare at him, which of course means that I do need him to say it now, and he’s an idiot for asking. “Fine. I love you enough to put you on the back of my bike and keep you there for good. I love you enough to be the only woman I bring home to my mother—even if you did steal her drugs—and I love you enough to ask you to stay here with me, permanently.”
I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. Tank’s eyes are fever bright and his brows pinch together like he’s in pain. “I love you so much that the idea of losing you to anyone makes my blood boil in my veins. I love you enough to take down every motherfucker who might try to take you from me.” He reaches the better of his two injured hands toward me, and gently strokes my cheek. “I love you enough to ask you to be my old lady for good.”
I sit up, warily meeting his eyes. “What are you saying, Tank?”
“I’m sayin’ I want you to fuckin’ wear my ring and show every other bastard on the face of the planet who you belong to.”
“Jonah—”
“Shit.” He allows his head to fall back against the headboard, closing his eyes as he says, “I didn’t think this through at all.”
“Oh,” I say, and I try not to sound as dejected as I feel, but … fuck, that hurts. It’s not that I’m dying to get married. Hell, before this conversation I’ve never even thought about it. That was something other women did, not club whores, but I find that it hurts as if I had really wanted it.
“Relax, Warrior Princess, I meant what I said. I’ve thought about it a lot. For a long-arse time. I never wanted to get married. I never wanted anyone dependin’ on me, you know? But I think about you heading back to the clubhouse, or going it alone now that you’re free, and I don’t want that. It isn’t safe with me. I’m always gonna have people gunnin’ for my head, and maybe I’m fuckin’ selfish for even askin’, but I fuckin’ love you, babe.” He shakes his head and gives me a wry smile. “Much as I don’t want to, much as I tried not to feel anything, you had to get under my skin and pitch your fuckin’ flag there, and that’s where you’ve damn well stayed since the day we met.
“So I’m a cunt for asking you with my dick hangin’ out, and I ain’t got a ring, ’cause I’m an arsehole like that, and you know I’m gonna be a pain in your arse more than I’m gonna be the fuckin’ man of your dreams. But I’m askin’ if you’ll make me the happiest man on the fuckin’ planet?”
Tears spill over my cheeks and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever cried from being truly happy, but all I can do is bury my face in my hands and shake my head.
“Well, don’t leave a man hangin’. Is that a no or a fuckin’ yes?” he asks, and the pinched expression, the worried gaze, the look of sheer terror on his face is priceless.
“Yes, Tank. I’ll marry you.”
He smiles. “You will, huh?”
I nod and scramble closer, throwing my arms around him. Tank flinches, his whole body going rigid as a board, and he bares his teeth in a grimace.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, scurrying away from his injured side.
“Come ’ere,” he says, tilting his head in a gesture that implies that I should cuddle up to him. I smile pitifully and climb over his lap, carefully settling in on his opposite side. His arm slides around me, his cast gently resting on the curve of my naked hip. “Love you, babe.”
A contented laugh escapes me. “I know.”
I glance at my hand, wondering what it would look like with a wedding band on it. Alien would be my guess, and I’d likely have to start taking better care of my nails, which kinda sucks.
“We’ll get you a ring,” Tank says.
I shake my head. “I don’t care about that.”
“I care,” he says, and the look he gives me is warning enough not to argue. “It’s gonna be a really fuckin’ big ring that every motherfucker on the planet will see. I’m gonna get one so big that fuckin’ thing will be seen from space.”
I shake my head. I don’t want a big fuck-off diamond. I just want him. But if it’ll make him happy, I’ll wear whatever the hell he wants me to, and I’ll love every second of it. I cuddle into his side and wonder what our wedding will look like, what our life together will look like.
“Now, how about that blow job?” he says.
I sit up and give him an incredulous look. “You’re a pig.”
“Yeah, but I’m your pig,” he says, grinning like a damn fool.
“Yes you are,” I say, and I slip down the bed and show him with my hands and lips and tongue just how happy that makes me.
Tank may not be the perfect man. He may be stubborn, demanding, infuriating, and an outright arsehole when he wants to be, but he’s mine. Just like this crazy fucked up life I’ve led is mine.
And I may make more stupid decisions along the way. I may always battle with my addiction. There may be times when I remember all that my father did, and I may be tempted to check out early. Who can say what the future will hold? It’s certainly been no fairy-tale so far.
I’m not a princess in a castle. There’s no extravagance in my past, nor is there likely to be any in my future. But there is love, and endurance, and the knowledge that I didn’t give up. I fought to be here.
I’m not a hero, I’ve never saved a life, but I saved my own, and that’s enough.
We’re enough.
Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY and international bestselling author of the Sugartown, Savage Saints, and Taint series.
Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU 2015.
A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore MAC addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny north coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.
A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?
Stay up to date with Carmen’s latest works at: http://www.carmenjenner.com
Welcome to Sugartown (Sugartown Series #1)
Enjoy Your Stay (Sugartown Series #2)
Greetings from Sugartown (Sugartown Series #3)
Now Leaving Sugartown (Sugartown Series #4)
KICK (Savage Saints MC #1)
Revelry (Taint #1)
COMING SOON
Harley and Rose
HURT (Taint #2)
CLOSER (Taint #3)
JETT (Savage Saints MC #3)
GRIM (Savage Saints MC #4)
KILLER (Savage Saints MC #5)