Page 24 of Tank’s Weakness

I smile when I see Tank on the other side.

The man is attractive as hell. Even with the face tattoos, he is something to look at. He’s dressed similarly to the way he was the other night. Dark-washed jeans and a dark T-shirt under that leather vest he wears bearing his name and the club I assume he rides with.

I want to ask him about it, but we are a fling. Nothing serious, so I can’t.

Or I guess I won’t. I don’t think he would mind if I asked questions.

“These are for you.” He holds out a small bouquet of flowers. They look handpicked. They are purple and pink with some peach-colored ones around the edges. I know next to nothing about flowers, but they are pretty.

“Thank you. Come in. I’ll put these in water.”

I walk away from the door, smiling when I glance back and see him shut and lock it. I’m in the kitchen when he finds me moments later. I’ve just finished putting the flowers in a vase, but I don’t look over at him.

“How was your day?” he asks, his hands finding my shoulders.

“Good. How was yours?” The question is automatic.

“Good.”

I don’t know what else to say. This feels weird. I almost abort the mission when he turns me to him.

“We can be friends. This doesn’t have to be transactional. In fact, I don’t think you will respond well if it is. So let’s try this again. Hello, Laney. Did you have a good day?” His hand comes up to brush back the hair on my face.

“I did. Did you?”

He nods. “I sure did. Was excited to see this girl I’m kinda seeing. She has this gorgeous red hair and beautiful blue eyes I could lose myself in. I’m hoping she was excited to see me too.”

I lick my lips. “I was. I am. I’m nervous.”

“No need to be. You’re in control. Anything you do, I will like.”

I reach up, cupping his cheek as I push closer to kiss him. He doesn’t disappoint. He kisses me back passionately as his hands find my hips. I lose myself in the sensation until he finally pulls back.

“That’s the greeting I wanted,” he admits.

“Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

He looks a little sheepish. “This is your show. When I step through those doors, I’m no longer Tank the biker.”

“Who are you then?”

“Anyone you want me to be,” he says easily.

That’s not the answer I want, though.

I think back to the research I read. This type of play isn’t always about what the dominant person wants. Sometimes the dominant person uses their control to get the submissive person to admit what they want.

Using a firm tone, I look up at him. “I want you to tell me who you want to be.”

His eyes flare. “I want to be Warren, your submissive toy.”

I lick my lips. “Why Warren?”

“That’s my real name. When I come here, I want to be the real me. We might be breaking barriers for you, but this is new for me too. I’ve never had anyone I could truly be myself with.”

It’s like I needed to hear that. I needed to know that this was something he wanted too. It was making me feel guilty when I thought this was all about me. I couldn’t truly believe he might be into this, but that little slice of reality he provided me gave me the permission I needed.

“I want you to strip naked. Now.”