Chapter 3
Boiler
Leaning back in my chair, my feet up, I watched the smoke from Riptide’s cigarette curling up towards the ceiling in a hazy spiral. The clubhouse hummed with an alien energy. All calm and shit. A truce? Hell on Heelz and the Seville Slayers, sitting in the same damn room without trying to kill each other. Fucking unheard of.
But no doubt, the meeting was on, Rage and Riptide doing most of the talking. My president was playing nice with these bitches for some pussy. Clown-haired girl named Brat who was a goddamned biker princess. At least his marriage to the Heel would buy us some clout with the big dogs in the biker world.
The girl’s daddy was prez of a much bigger club, the Asphalt Gods MC. Once upon a time Slayers were merely weekenders here in Seville, Florida, then we were under that club’s big evil thumb. Gods were all over the country. We fought hard for our independence and won. But Riptide said we had the chance to become allies while keeping our independence.
Even so, I barely listened. My mind drifted back to that horrible night on the desolate road when my brother Chugg lost his life. Speaking of pussy, there was Tank saving my ass, patching me up while we waited for the ambulance. Fucking years ago. Bitch been my enemy ever since. And I wasn’t only being derogatory about my sworn enemy. Tank called herself that, a biker bitch. Not just that, she fucking owned it.
Woman was one of the Heelz Enforcers, I knew, even if these broads didn’t advertise their roles past the President. Muscle was the part she played, and she nailed it.
I spotted her across the room, talking to one of her sisters. Her platinum blond hair and inked skin stood out against the rough, wooden backdrop of our clubhouse. But it was her amazing tits and her height that always caught my attention. I was a big man, six-five, so Tank who was nearly six feet towered over her sisters still couldn’t look me in the eye.
Truth was, Tank was fierce, but fucking beautiful, unapproachable, every bit the biker bitch she was known to be. But deep down, I knew better. I’d seen the woman behind the walls, the one who’d stayed with me through my pain, despite her allegiance to her sisters. It wasn’t just my physical wounds she’d tended to. Her act of kindness, it coming from an enemy, had messed with my head more than all my battle scars.
My prez flicked his cigarette onto the floor, the ember dying out with a sizzle.
Rage made a face. “Just make sure you don’t treat our Roost like an ashtray.” These women were already complaining, trying to change our ways. I opened my mouth to say as much but thought better of it. I didn’t want to break the peace as soon as it started.
The ceasefire was supposed to make things easier, but seeing Tank now, under the pretense of peace, just made my feelings much more complicated. We had a shared past, unspoken but heavy between us, and it wasn’t something I could just ignore.
Riptide’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Boiler, you paying attention?”
I grunted in response, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “Yeah, yeah. We’re all friends now. Kumbaya. I got it.”
Rage shot me a look, her eyes hard. “This truce isn’t a joke, Boiler. We need to make it work.”
“Respect is earned, not given.”
Riptide knocked my feet off the table. “You either ride with us on this one or get left in the dust.”
“I’ll ride,” I answered him.
Rage spoke, “You mess with one of us, you mess with the whole damn club. That’s something we can agree on. Right, it goes both ways. So, this isn’t going to be easy.”
I inclined my head, more to shut her up than anything else. My eyes kept drifting back to Tank. The way she moved, the way she held herself, it was like she was daring anyone to challenge her. And damn if that didn’t stir something in my pants. I wanted to dominate her, to make her submit to me, just once.
After the meeting wrapped up, I made my way over to her. “Yo, Tank,” I called out, my voice so deep it sounded foreign.
She turned, her big blue eyes locking onto mine. “Boiler,” she acknowledged, her tone as cool as ice as she raised her chin and stood straighter.
My eyes naturally fell to her tits. Fuck, I could get lost in them. I stepped closer, lowering my voice even more. “We need to talk.”
Her finger was moving as if to raise my chin. “About what?”
I met her eyes again. “About that night,” I said, the words heavy with meaning.
She crossed her arms, her expression guarded as she looked around. Jutting her head, she zipped around a corner.
Smirking, I followed.
“That was a long time ago,” she said, huffing. “I was new.”
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” I shot back. “We’re in a different place now. Allies,” I tried.
Tank chewed her lip, her face giving away her annoyance. “My give-a-damn's busted, and my throttle’s wide open.”
“You don’t want anyone to know, I take it.”
Her face turned to a sheet of ice as she erased all emotion from it. “Know what?”
“You saved my life, Tank.”
She looked away, a flicker of something—maybe regret, maybe something else—crossing her face. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
“I haven’t forgotten about it.”
“Well, forget it.”
I stepped closer, getting a whiff of her sweet scent, not knowing if it was natural or perfume or products, but it was as intoxicating as her form.
“You can look, but if you touch, you better have health insurance,” she warned me.
My tone softened automatically. “I’m not just talking about the crash. I’m talking about us.”
Her eyes snapped back to mine, the defiance clear. “There is no us, Boiler. There never was.”
“Bullshit,” I growled. “You and I both know there’s something here. This truce might be new, but what we have isn’t.”
Tank took a step back, shaking her head. “You’re off your rocker.”
“I’ve seen you look at me. All these years, not a fuck you, nothin’. You’ve avoided me when you’ve checked all my brothers.”
“So, you want me to lay you out? Break the truce?”
“You could try, but you wouldn’t get anywhere. But you can just lay me.” I got even closer to Tank, my body almost touching hers. I could feel the heat radiating off of her, and it was only making me more eager to have her. My hands hovered over her skin as I was heeding her warning. "I want to taste every inch of you, Tank," I said, my voice gruff. "I want to feel your skin against mine, to hear you moan my name as I make you come."
Locking eyes with me, her expression revealed sheer shock. I could see the conflict in them, the desire warring with the fear. But I knew she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
"I want to dominate you, Tank," I continued, my voice growing more intense. "I want to make you beg for it, to make you scream my name as you come apart in my arms."
Tank's eyes widened as I spoke, and I could see the conflict within her. She wanted to deny what was between us, but she couldn't hide the way her body reacted to my words. Her breath hitched, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. Staring down, I watched her milky white cleavage redden as well. Fucking hot as hell.
"You can't be serious," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I've never been more serious in my life," I replied, matching her volume. "I've wanted you for years.”
She turned her hand, checking her nails. “I would beat your ass, but Rage wouldn’t like it. Riptide wouldn’t either.”
I reached out, grabbing her wrist gently. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You saved my life, so I’m indebted.”
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”
“I agree. A woman like you doesn’t need a knight. You need a beast on a bike.”
“I’ve got my own damn Harley.”
"Now, I'm not saying I want to tie you down and force you. I want you to want it as much as I do. I want to be your dirty little secret, the Slayer you keep hidden from your biker sisters. And I want to be the man who takes you so hard that you'll remember it for the rest of your life."
Her breathing became ragged, and her eyes were glazed with desire. Her chest rose and fell, her nipples hardening against her shirt. I could see her struggle, torn by her desire to punch me and her plain old desire.
"You're mad," she whispered.
“I know you've fantasized about me. You just can't admit it."
"What makes you think I want you?"
"You've been looking at me for years. But hiding from me too. And I’ve been looking at you too, seeing past the biker bitch fa?ade. Seeing you. The woman who saved me.”
She looked down at where my hand held hers, then back up at me. “This is some bullshit. Who put you up to this?” She tried to pull away from me. “And I don’t need saving, Boiler.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But maybe I do.”
“Need me to come to your rescue again?”
“How about you let a man take charge for once.”
“Because I do the saving. Just like I saved your ass. I might be a woman, but I have bigger balls than you.”
“Pull down your pants and we can compare.”
She pulled her hand free, her expression hardening. “Don’t make this fucking ceasefire harder than it has to be. And you better keep your trap shut about what happened that night. Let it go. It didn’t mean shit.”
With a grin on my face, I watched her walk away. I’d been waiting three long years to get close to her. One thing was certain—whatever it took, I wasn’t going to let this go.