Page 14 of Her Dirty Biker
Simple. Direct. No out.
Diesel walks past me, heading down the hallway. I should let him go, but something in me snaps.
“Why did you come for me?” I call after him. “You didn’t even know me.”
He stops in the doorway and looks back, eyes unreadable.
“Because Guardrail’s a piece of shit,” he says. “I saw the look in your eyes and knew he wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.”
That shuts me up.
He disappears into the bedroom, and I’m left alone with the scent of coffee and the thunder of my heartbeat.
Later, I wander down the hallway, restless. The house is small, consisting of a single long corridor with a living room, kitchen, and two bedrooms. There’s a dusty bookshelf, a broken lamp, and an old leather jacket thrown over the back of the couch that smells like Diesel when I brush against it.
He’s in the spare room—his room, I guess. The door’s half open, and I hear the low rasp of his voice on the phone.
“No, she hasn’t said anything else. Yeah. I’m watching her… Yeah, Rock, I know what’s at stake.”
A pause. Then softer, “No, I’m not getting too attached. Don’t you dare send someone else to watch her.”
He hangs up and steps into the hallway before I can move. We’re inches apart. His hand goes to my arm instinctively, steadying me. My breath catches. He doesn’t pull away.
“Were you listening?” he asks.
“Yes.”
His thumb brushes once over my skin, slow and deliberate. I tremble.
“You’re not a prisoner here, Willow. But if you leave, I can’t keep you safe.”
“Why do you care?”
He exhales, long and rough. “I don’t know.”
Then he does the one thing I wasn’t ready for. He touches my face, just one hand, warm and calloused, cupping my cheek like I’m breakable.
“You should stay in your room tonight,” he says. “I'll bring you some dinner later.”
I nod, but I don’t move. Neither does he.
“Diesel…” I whisper.
He leans in, so close our mouths almost touch. His eyes drop to my lips.
“I shouldn’t want this,” he mutters. “You’re too young. Too soft. Too good.”
“I’m not,” I breathe.
He closes his eyes like it physically hurts to hear me say that. Then, with visible effort, he steps back.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving me in the hallway, body flushed, heart pounding, lips aching from the kiss we didn’t share.
Chapter four
Diesel
