She’s All Mine Page 6

  “What will you do while I study?”

  “Read. Play Fortnite. Look at you. Mostly look at you.” He gives me a crooked grin.

  “I like that plan.” I lean forward, wanting to show him I’m not running and brush my mouth against his. He groans and slides his hands into my hair. When I pull back from the kiss I realize that he has moved us. I’m not exactly sure how we moved from the kitchen to his bathroom, but I’m not going to complain about it. Tank is now standing behind me while I face the mirror.

  “Raise your hands up, Treasure,” he whispers while lightly kissing the back of my neck.

  I raise my hands toward the ceiling. Tank takes his sweet time lifting the oversized shirt he gave me over my head. I squirm, feeling his erection pressing into my back. My shirt hits the floor and I look up into the mirror to see him staring back at me. Our eyes stay locked as I feel his fingers trace down my neck and my collar bone, making goosebumps break out across my skin.

  “How did I get so lucky, Treasure?” he whispers before he breaks eye contact with me and begins kissing the spots he just traced.

  The only thing I can do is watch him in the mirror. The sight of his broad chest and my tiny frame is so arousing. I watch as my nipples pebble and his hands reach around to tug at them. I let out a loud moan as he continues to caress me. My hands reach back on their own to grab his muscular ass, trying to get him as close to me as possible. His cock is rock hard against my back.

  “I need you, Tank. Please,” I beg.

  “You’re so beautiful and perfect. I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you,” he whispers.

  “You better.” He keeps treating me like this and he can keep me forever. I turn around to give him a stern look so he knows I’m serious. He lets out a small laugh and kisses my lips.

  “Shower and then your place.” I nod as I watch him flip on the shower while pulling my hair up in a tight knot so it doesn’t get wet. “You’ll have to wear another one of my shirts.” He walks back over to me. “Sorry, babe, but I ripped that pretty shirt you made.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure Liv will make us five million more.” He leans down, kissing me again. I get lost in his kiss. I swear my mind shuts off. I’m standing here completely naked and I’m not one bit self-conscious. That’s what Tank does to me, he makes me feel comfortable in my own skin. My mind stops worrying about everything when he’s near. I don’t have to be the best when I’m with him. I only have to be me.

  He picks me up by my ass and takes me into the shower. I pull back, laughing because he makes it seem so effortless to lift me.

  The hunger I see in his eyes when he gazes at my body makes my shyness fade away. I’m fit. My body is lean from all of the years of dancing. I’ve always tried to hide what I thought were my flaws underneath oversized clothing. My hips are small along with my breasts. I’m petite everywhere, but Tank looks like he enjoys my size.

  I enjoy his. Being small always made me feel less feminine, but with Tank that isn’t true. The way he picks me up and carries me around makes me feel cherished. He moved my body where he wanted it as we made love. It was the most feminine I’d felt in my life. Maybe being dominated by a man shouldn’t do that for me, but it does.

  My hands roam his body as he washes every inch of mine. He takes his time, not missing one square inch of me. I thought after last night I might be sore, but right now all I feel is happy.

  “When do I get to see you box?” I ask, peeking up at him. I should have known he was a fighter. Once he said it, I wondered how I missed that. He’s built for it. I knew he had to do some kind of training with his muscle mass, and well, after last night, his stamina.

  “Uh, I have a match this week…” His words trail off as my hands drift lower, wrapping around his cock. I didn’t get to touch him here last night. His cock was either in me or he had his mouth on me.

  I wrap my hand around him, still surprised he fit inside me. His whole body goes still and his breathing picks up. The hands that were once washing me have stopped now and are gripping my hips tight.

  “Treasure,” he breathes out. “We can’t; you’re sore,” he says, as if he wants to stop, but I can tell from the pain in his voice and the soft but firm grip he has on me that he doesn't want to. His cock jerks in my hand, begging me to continue.

  “You don’t have to put it in me.” I didn’t mean for the words to sound dirty. With his hard cock in my hand, I feel sexy, wanton and oddly powerful as I stand in front of the biggest and likely the strongest man I’ve ever met in my life. He makes me feel that way.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. His hips press forward, jacking himself off some with the motion. His cock slides through my hand.

  “I can lick you like you licked me.”

  “I don’t know, maybe…” He trails off as I fall to my knees in front of him. He stares down at me, wide eyed for a moment. I swear he almost doesn't think I’m real. It isn't until I start to stroke him that he comes back to reality. I can see the lust in his eyes as he stares down at me with my mouth only inches from his cock. I quickly stick my tongue out and lick the tip of his cock as I stare up at his face.

  He reaches down and strokes my cheek with his thumb for a moment. “Open up,” he commands as his thumb slides down my jaw to my chin.

  I open wide, doing as he commands, hoping I can give him the same pleasure as he gave me. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I do know I don’t have to be perfect. My Tank will be happy with anything I give him because he only wants me.

  13

  Tank

  I’m moving blowjobs up on my list of favorite sex things. It’s definitely in the top three, although I don’t know what position I’m moving down the ladder. Maybe doggy-style? Because the tongue action that Erika just served is mind blowing. Her tongue and mouth deserve an award. Maybe a Nobel Peace Prize or something small like that.

  We swing by her dorm room so she can change. I would’ve liked it if she wore my clothes, but when we tried that my damn shirt kept sliding off her shoulder. It was distracting. The hall monitor’s desk is empty and more than a few guys are sneaking out.

  I frown. “I thought there were no men in the dorm?”

  Erika appears surprised. “I thought so, too.”

  I put a protective arm around her and glare at the boys leaving. “You need a new hall monitor.”

  “Weren’t you upset when she wouldn’t let you in?”

  “That’s different,” I grumble.

  One guy stumbles toward us, his breath stinking of day-old brew and his shirt only half buttoned and his jeans halfway down his ass. I swing Erika out of the way and give the old boy a shove. “Watch where you’re going.” I glare.

  “Fuck off, man,” the drunk retorts. Too bombed to realize what he’s doing, the boy comes up swinging. I slide to the left, stick out my foot and the guy slams face first on the floor. Behind the desk, a head pops up.

  “What happened?” the bleary-eyed hall monitor asks.

  “Some trash spilled in the entry,” Erika says. “Tank, let’s go before we get too dirty.”

  She tucks her hand in mine and hauls me to the elevator bank. “Do you think we should check on him?” She looks over at the figure on the floor. The boy hasn’t moved.

  “No.” He tried to breathe funny in Erika’s presence. In my opinion, falling on his face is mild compared to what could have happened to him. Instead of the floor greeting him, it could’ve been my fist.

  I hustle Erika into the elevator and press the third-floor button. All these dicks around at night worries me. Maybe I’ll get one of the younger guys at the gym to come work the nightshift.

  “I’ll be right back,” Erika says, dipping into her dorm room. I only get a quick look at it before the door’s shut in my face. The room appears small, but tidy—kind of like Erika herself.

  She doesn’t take long. In a hot second, she’s out in new leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. A bag is slung across her body. I check my watch. “We have e
nough time to pick up some breakfast.”

  “Wasn’t that what the ice cream was for?”

  I fold her hand in mine. “Nah. That was like a pre-breakfast.”

  Her hair is up again in that thick knot. Having seen all of it last night, I’m wondering how she gets that mass into one small circle. I did watch a few braiding tutorials on YouTube but didn’t come across one that was like this. Guess I’ll have to expand my viewing playlist.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asks quietly as we head down the hall toward the elevator.

  “Your hair. How do you get it to stick up like that?”

  “I have a clip.” She flips up the small bun and reveals a doo-dad about the same color as her hair.

  Impressed, I nod. “Wow. I feel like I’ve just been let into a secret society.”

  She nudges me with her shoulder, a move that may have been designed to knock me off balance, but since I weigh a good hundred pounds more than her, it feels like a love pat.

  “Tonight, are you going to dance?”

  “Probably.” She rubs one small foot against the side of her leg.

  “Mind if I come?”

  I noticed she goes late at night, when no one else is around. I can’t see much from outside the studio—mostly shadows and stuff. It’s a turn-on.

  “I don’t usually let anyone see me dance,” she shares quietly. “But you can come if you want.”

  “I want. How come you don’t want anyone seeing you dance?”

  “I’m not as good as I used to be.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” We step into the elevator.

  She gestures toward her leg. “It means that before I broke this, I was pretty amazing. I won contests and stuff. But afterwards, I didn’t have the strength and my ability declined. I dance for pleasure now only. Not for an audience.”

  “I don’t have to come inside.”

  She considers it. “No. I want you to. I know you won’t judge me.”

  “Anyone who would judge you is living a miserable life.” I bring her hand to my lips. “I appreciate you letting me in. I know it means something.”

  When we get off the elevator, the body in the middle of the floor has been cleared away. The hall monitor stares at me with a narrowed, suspicious eye. I wave and smile and she falls off her chair.

  “You probably shouldn’t do that,” Erika informs me.

  “I guess not.” It’s not the first time some girl has tripped when I’m around. I don’t really know why though. I shake my head in confusion.

  “You’re a menace,” Erika says.

  “How so?” I hold the door open so she can walk outside.

  “You really don’t know how attractive you are, do you? The girl fell off her chair because you smiled at her.”

  “Nah.” I hang my arm around Erika’s shoulders. “It was probably you and how good your tight ass looks in those yoga pants.”

  “You’re wrong, but I’m not going to argue. I like that you’re blissfully ignorant.”

  I help her into my truck. “About what?”

  “Nothing.” She smirks and then leans over to pop a surprise kiss on my lips. Whatever we were discussing flies out of my brain.

  “Oh no you don’t,” I tell her. I grab her hips and step between her legs. “If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.”

  I angle my mouth over hers and pillage her for a good five minutes until she’s breathless, flushed and her hair is somewhere around her ass. “Sorry about your bun,” I say without a hint of apology in my voice.

  She smiles as she does up her hair again. “I don’t think you are.”

  “I’m not,” I admit.

  On the way to the gym, she asks about my boxing.

  “When I was young, I would go into rages. It got me kicked out of the house and then out of a couple foster homes before I got placed at Patty’s. She introduced me to Morry, a trainer, and that was that.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “You’ll like her. She’s like a second mom to me.”

  “A woman trainer is unusual, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Morry’s suffered a lot of discrimination. “But we’re winning. So the gym’s growing and people are interested. Plus, she gets press from it. If you ever get tired of dancing at the theatre studio on campus, you could do it here. We have mirrors. No bar though. And no wood floor,” I add, doing a mental tour of the place. “Okay, maybe it’s a shit place for dancing, but we could add on.” I really like this idea. I could invest some of my prize money in expanding the place. A dance studio could be nice. As I pull into the driveway, I spot a few cars. Erika’s shy, so I explain, “There’s a couple guys and girls training this morning.”

  “I don’t want to be in the way.”

  “You won’t be. I know Morry’s going to want to meet you.”

  And after Morry’s done, then I’ll have to take her out to see Patty, otherwise I won’t hear the end of it about being a bad son.

  “So you decided to show up after all,” Morry snarks when I walk in.

  “I brought something important,” I declare. “A treasure.”

  14

  Erika

  I suddenly feel a bout of shyness strike me as we approach the other woman. I’m thankful that people don’t call this man Tank for no reason. His size makes it easy for me to hide behind him. He could be my own personal shield. Tank seems so proud to show me off, but my parental insecurities run deep inside me. It was clear by the way Tank talked about Morry that she wasn’t only a trainer to him. She’s a mother figure in his life. She’s important to him. In the short time I’ve gotten to know Tank, I do know when he cares about something that he’s all in.

  “Surprise!” I can feel Tank’s body vibrating with laughter at my reply. I elbow him, but it’s no use because it only hits the top of his leg. This makes him silently laugh harder. I want to facepalm myself but I try and pull it together.

  “I mean hello,” I try and recover. “I’m Erika. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I look up and see a woman whom I immediately know is Morry. My cheeks feel warm and are probably the color of a fire hydrant. I put my hand out in greeting, the only other thing I can think to do with it so I don’t facepalm myself at this point.

  She looks momentarily shocked before her whole face lights up with a smile. She reaches out, shaking my hand. “Was this who was calling you the other day?” My eyes dart over to Tank as our hands drop away. I don’t think I’ve ever heard his phone ring. Actually, I’ve never even seen him with a phone now that I think on it. My eyes narrow on him. Is he hiding his phone? Who was calling him? I think about my best friend Liv and how her men are crazy about her phone. They use it to track her, and hell, she tracks them, too.

  It’s obsessive, borderline crazy, and suddenly I now want that in my life. “She was my good karma for calling back.” Tank pulls me out more in front of him.

  “Oh ho, our Theodore has a girlfriend!” Morry exclaims loud enough for the entire gym to notice. I’m so red I’d put a tomato to shame, but I don’t run off and that makes me a tiny bit proud. “Does Patty know about this?”

  “Not yet.” Tank shifts uncomfortably from side to side.

  “You better or she’ll skin you alive next time you have dinner. Patty is Tank’s foster mom,” Morry confides in me. “The two of us have been taking care of Tank since he was ten, isn’t that right, son?”

  “Yeah, so anything you don’t like about me, blame them,” he jokes.

  “I like everything about you, Tank, so these two must be perfect.”

  “You got a good one here!” Morry cries. She threads an arm around my shoulders. “Come over here and tell me everything. Where did you meet? How long have you known each other?”

  I cast a panicked look over her shoulder.

  Tank reaches out and drags me back to his side. “Morry, Erika just got here. Maybe let her settle for a minute. Besides, she wants to see me box.” He flexes his biceps and Morry
folds over in half, laughing.

  I smile, already knowing I’m going to like her. She is trying to make me feel comfortable. It reminds me of something Liv would do. My parents are the opposite. I swear they strive to keep you on edge.

  Morry finally gathers herself and gives me a wink. “I’m glad someone finally corralled our boy. I thought he was going to be single for the rest of his life. He didn’t have any interests but boxing and that darned cat.”

  “You make me sound dysfunctional,” Tank complains, but their teasing is all good-natured and full of affection, which is light years away from how my parents interact with me.

  Tank may have grown up in a foster home and learned to box as a way out of a poor background, but he was happy. I had everything anyone could ever ask for. A big house, an expensive car, designer goods, but my parents made my life miserable. There was no time for laughing and no time for pleasure. It was all about how much I could achieve in how little time. What could I do to make my parents be able to hold their heads up at the country club while the other parents were bragging about their kids’ Ivy League admissions or Rhodes scholarships?

  “He’s perfect,” I say, because he is.

  Before I know what’s happening I’m up over his shoulder. A small smack lands on my ass. For a moment I’m shocked until I hear Morry laughing. I can’t help but join her as Tank walks off with me over his shoulder. I have no idea where we're headed, but it doesn’t matter as long as I’m with Tank. A few seconds later I’m back on my feet standing by what looks to be a boxing ring. A weird excitement starts to build inside of me—the same kind I get when I’m about to dance. I’m going to get to see Tank in there. I’m going to watch him hone his craft. Thinking about watching his body move about that ring has my mind drifting back to how he was in bed last night. All of those muscles working in unison to give me pleasure. I snap my mind back to reality. He hasn’t even stepped in the ring yet and my body is already getting all worked up. I’m never going to survive this.