Read Tank: Apaches MC for Free Online Page A

like she did with the curl of my hair.
     
    When she speaks, she’s doing it to break the ice. I can tell that she hates the silence between us. Whatever she is saying doesn’t matter. I know what she wants, and it’s the same thing I crave, too. “What are you still doing here?”
     
    “What are you doing lying there?” I quickly retort.
     
    “This is my bedroom,” she says dryly, as she bites her bottom lip. “I live here.”
     
    “And I’m here to get some answers to my questions.” In the moment, I forgot what those questions were and why the rest of the Apache leadership thought I should talk to her again. I was just at a meeting minutes ago… or was it hours? With her, time seems to just escape me.
     
    “I answered them. I don’t know anything. Shouldn’t you go?” She leans in even closer.
     
    She said ‘shouldn’t’ as if she was asking me if it was right or wrong for me to be here. But there was something else. She wasn’t kicking me out of this room or her house. Shouldn’t and should are two very different things. And hers was an invitation.
     
    The light through the open window dances a bit, as a car drives by slowly past the apartment complex. It illuminates her figure against the thin dress she still has on. When she lies on her side, I can see the curve of her hip like a soft ‘u’ and the roundness of her ass. Her tits push further together as I catch the crevice between the two. All I can think about is resting my head between those two mounds and breathing her in.
     
    I make a decision then and there. I wasn’t going to back away from this, no way. So I go all in. I pick myself up a bit, enough so that I can wrap an arm around the side of her waist. It rests on the bed so that I am straddling her. In a quick move, I manage to throw my legs across her body. She turns with me, her face morphing when she realizes what is happening.
     
    But she doesn’t say no. She doesn’t push me away. I can’t fucking believe it, but she’s actually giving me permission to do this to her. I don’t want to take this too fast—even though all I can think about is getting to her sweet little caramel-colored pussy as soon as possible.
     
    Instead, I let myself do something I have been thinking about since I first saw her. My head lowers to her chest, along the edge of her denim-colored dress. I let my nose graze her perfect skin as it traces a short line across one of the tops of her breasts. It’s just a light touch, enough so that she can just barely feel me make an impression on her. Underneath me, I can feel her stomach cave in just slightly. She’s ticklish. I like that.
     
    As I go, I inhale deeply at her scent. Unlike most girls I know, she’s not covered in perfume or fake scents. She doesn’t smell like flowers or some fucking store where high school bitches hang out. No, she smells like a girl should, like a summer morning right after rain. My mouth can’t help but let my tongue get a taste of it. With each lick, I can feel the little bumps on her skin rise to attention.
     
    When I get to the thin straps of her dress, I bare my teeth. Before she can say no, I grab hold of one with my mouth and slide them down her shoulders, past her thin arms, and down to her hands. Just as I suspected, she’s not wearing a bra underneath. This girl isn’t as innocent as I thought she was. And when I finish removing the second strap, I let myself sit up and admire my work.
     
    Sierra stares at me in the dark. Her lips are parted just enough for me to see her tongue resting up against her teeth. Her eyes blink open and close, as she tries to focus on my shape as well. But her hands dart to her chest, covering up her tits as if they are something to be ashamed of. I hate secrets, especially when they are keeping me from getting what I want.
     
    My hands wrap around her little wrists, and I forcefully pull her hands and arms just above the crown of her head. “Tank…,” she whispers,