Page 32 of Diesel

Beast tapped his phone and then put it to his ear. “I need you in Boston pronto. I don’t give a fuck how far it is. Take a fucking plane.” He ended the call. He fucking knew I was right.

“You lied to Diesel about Gigi,” Skittles said. “Why?”

“Because until she gets what she wants, she’s going to try and tear the club apart,” Beast said.

Skittles balled her hands. “You walk your little whore-ass into that bar, and you tell Diesel you lied. And you better fucking believe I’m telling Gigi that you lied to him so he’d fuck you. You have an ass whipping coming your way.” Skittles stomped away.

“This all going according to plan?” Beast asked. “You’re still fucking hiding something. When we get back to Pine Bluff, you need to get your shit and get out of town.”

12

Gigi

I didn’t go anywhere. I got the rental car, checked into a Hilton, and sat on the bed thinking. I had two different men pulling me in two different directions. I didn’t know what to do.

At first, the biker's life was exciting and new. But when death creeps into the picture multiple times, you begin to look at the alternatives.

I crawled onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t too late to catch up to Diesel and the others. I could still go to Boston.

Charles would take me back in a heartbeat. I could return to an everyday life and have everything I wanted. I could have an okay sex life with a man who loved me, with a man who made minimal effort in bed. When I started to doze off, someone knocked on the door.

Before opening the door, I looked through the peephole. “What the fuck?” I took a step back. “I opened the door and crossed my arms, scowling. “How the hell did you find me?”

“Can I come in?” Charles asked. He peered into the room.

“Diesel is not here, Charles.” I wanted to tell him to quit being a little bitch, but I held my tongue. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk. That’s it.”

I stepped to the side so he could come in. Luckily, he didn’t smile because that’s when I would have sent his ass right back out. He started to sit on the bed but thought better of it, taking the couch instead.

“So talk.” I held up a hand. “Wait. You ever have me followed again, and I will shoot you myself. You won’t have to worry about a biker coming after you. Am I clear?”

Charles nodded. “Look. I’m sorry I did that. I’m sorry about all of this. You and I belong together, Gigi. This entire past year, everything I’ve done has been to bring us closer. You know that.” I kept waiting for him to trash Diesel, but he never did. “All I’m saying is let’s give this another shot. You know I’ll take care of you. You know I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I don’t know what to do, Charles.”

He stood and came to me. I let him hold my hands. I let him kiss me. I let him pull me against his body. His hands went around my waist and eventually slipped to my ass. He squeezed hard, and I whimpered.

There was nothing attractive about Charles, but for whatever reason, I found myself pressing my pussy against him, my arms going around him. I lifted his shirt, unimpressed with his body or even his scent. At that moment, I didn’t care.

Charles pushed my shorts and panties down, stepping from his khakis. Khakis? No tight jeans or tight tee or kutte or black boots.

I let him lead me to the bed, where he crawled atop me. There was no kissing my breasts, sucking my nipples. There was a sloppy, undesirable kiss. There was no kissing my thighs or eating my pussy.

Charles stuck his dick inside me and spent the next two minutes thrusting, his eyes closed, his face grimacing. As usual, he came, and I didn’t. He rolled to the bed, eyeballing the ceiling.

“That was so good, babe,” he said. “We belong together, Gigi.”

“Get out,” I said calmly.

“What?”

“That’s right. Get the fuck out of my room, and get the fuck out of my life.” I went to pee and dressed as fast as I could while Charles watched. “I’m checking out.”

“We just had sex!” Charles pulled on his pants, catching his worm in his zipper. He screamed like a bitch and lowered the zipper. I saw blood but wasn’t about to stop.

“You had sex,” I said. “I just laid there, wanting you to hurry up.”

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