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The entire clubhouse knew the rule: giant biker Tank never touched the club girls. What they didn’t know was there was no rule—only the brutal wall he’d built after destroying a woman with his massive length years ago. She’d pushed him to take her, but he was too big, too rough. She ended up in the hospital needing stitches. Since that night, Tank hadn’t touched a woman. Until Maxine walked into the clubhouse. The club’s only real mechanic. 20. Betrayed by her sister and ex, kicked out by her parents, surviving on her own sweat and skill while every other woman spread her legs for protection. She didn’t flirt. Didn’t simper. Didn’t need to. She was different. And Tank wanted her with a hunger that terrified him. Other club h0res had tried—rubbing against him, whispering f!lthy promises. Nothing. His body stayed dead. But Maxine? Just one glance he grew rock hard, aching with raw need. He fled like a coward to the bathroom, slamming the door, chest heaving as he yanked himself free. He imagined her bent over his custom Harley—bare, breathless, trembling. That fierce innocence in her eyes slowly twisting into desperate pleasure as he bent her to his will. How she’d gasp when he stretched her open, shocked at the side of herself she never knew existed. No loud moaning. No screaming. Just one soft, broken gasp: “Tank…” Wide-eyed. Breathless. His hand wrapped around her throat. Her legs shaking under his brutal thrvsts. Mine. You’re fking mine, Maxine. Only mine. ------------- Maxine POV “Go home, you have worked too much overtime this week. Have an early night and give that boyfriend of yours an early treat.” My boss practically urged me out the door, a wicked grin on his face. “Okay, okay, I’m going. I’m going. I straddled my bike and started her up. This was going to be a great night. Today was my boyfriend's birthday, and I was going to give him a special gift. I had brought new, cute clothes, and I cleaned up. I was ready to give him my all, my first, my heart,
