8. DIESEL #2
“I meant what I said outside,” she murmured. “I don’t need you to stand in front of me.”
“I know.”
“But I want you beside me.”
“You’ve got me.”
“All of you?”
The old answer rose automatically: every useful part, every easy part, everything that could make her laugh without asking her to carry anything darker. I let it die before it reached my mouth.
“All of me,” I said. “The bastard with the jokes, the mechanic, and the man who still wakes up expecting you to realize you made a mistake.”
She pushed my cut from my shoulders and drew my shirt over my head before reaching for my belt. I caught her wrists gently.
“This room’s got a new desk and no curtains.”
“We’re on the second floor inside a guarded compound.”
“Axel owns binoculars.”
“Then give him something to be jealous of.”
I laughed against her mouth and lifted her onto the desk.
Her skirt rode up around her thighs as she wrapped her legs around my waist, drawing me into the heat between them.
I kissed her until her fingers tightened in my hair, then moved down her throat and across the swell of her breasts while my hand slipped beneath the lace of her underwear.
She was already wet.
“Been thinking about this in the boardroom?” I asked.
“I was thinking about you taking my side without taking over.”
“That turn you on?”
“More than your jokes do.”
“Cruel woman.”
I pushed two fingers inside her, and the reply she might have made dissolved into a moan. Her hips moved against my hand while I stroked her slowly, taking my time until her breath shortened and the polished control she wore for everyone else began coming apart beneath my touch.
“That’s it,” I murmured against her ear. “Nothing to prove in here.”
She gripped my shoulders as I curled my fingers inside her and circled her clit with my thumb. “I need you.”
“You have me.”
“Damian.”
Hearing my real name from her still reached something no road name ever could. I pulled her underwear down, opened my jeans, and rolled on a condom before stepping between her thighs.
The silver barbell through the head of my cock caught the light.
Eloise touched it with the tip of one finger, watching my jaw tighten.
“I’ve missed this.”
“Piercing or the rest of me?”
“I’m still deciding.”
I caught the back of her neck and kissed her. “Brat.”
She smiled against my mouth, then guided me to her entrance and lowered herself from the edge of the desk. I filled her slowly, letting her body stretch around me until the curved metal pressed against the place that made her breath catch.
Her head fell back.
“There,” she whispered.
I held still. “You want control?”
“Yes.”
“Take it, baby.”
I sat in the desk chair and drew her onto my lap. Eloise straddled me, one hand braced against my chest as she lifted herself and sank down again. The first slow movement dragged the piercing along her inner walls and pulled a broken sound from her throat.
Watching her choose the rhythm nearly destroyed me.
She moved harder, using my shoulders for leverage while I gripped her hips and helped her take me deeper. Her blouse hung open, her skirt bunched around her waist, and every controlled inch of Eloise Bradford came undone in my arms because she trusted me enough to let it happen.
“Feel good, princess?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“Touch me.”
I slid my hand between us and rubbed her clit as she rode me. Her body tightened, each stroke of the barbell driving her closer while she whispered my name against my mouth.
“That’s it,” I said, my voice roughening as her pace became desperate. “Take what you want from me.”
Her orgasm struck hard. Eloise cried out and clung to me, her body pulsing around my cock while I kept my fingers moving and held her through every shudder. The sight of her coming apart pushed me to the edge, but I waited until she opened her eyes and began moving again.
“Come with me,” she whispered.
I gripped her hips and thrust up into her, once, twice, and then buried myself deep as the release tore through me. She pressed her forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard while the new office settled into silence around us.
Afterward, we moved to the couch in the corner, Eloise curled carefully against my uninjured side with her head over my heart. The late-afternoon light stretched across the floorboards and caught the brass letters of her name on the desk.
“I don’t want you to survive around my life. I want you in it.”
I turned enough to look at her. “Then you better understand what you’re asking for. I’ve got a club that’ll always come first when one of my brothers needs me, a garage that calls at stupid hours, and an impressive collection of unpaid parking tickets.”
Her smile softened before she touched the patch resting across the arm of the couch. “You called me your woman before either of us knew whether the claim was real.”
“Felt real to me.”
“It feels real to me now.”
I took her hand. “You don’t belong to me, Eloise. I know that.”
“No, but I am yours by choice.” She linked her fingers through mine. “And you’re mine the same way.”
The first time she entered my life, she had been running from a future someone else had chosen for her. I had spent years doing my own kind of running, hiding behind Diesel because Damian wanted things he did not believe anyone would stay long enough to give him.
Now Eloise rested against me in the home we were reshaping around both our lives, and neither of us was looking for an exit.
“Forever?” I asked.
She kissed the scar beneath my ribs before lifting her face to mine. “That’s the plan.”
For once, I did not need a joke to make the truth easier.
“Hell, princess,” I said, pulling her closer. “I’m in.”