Chapter 30 – Diesel #2
Rebel: HOW DO I KNOW IF I SHOULD SPIT OR SWALLOW? Give me a real fucking answer, fuck face.
A real answer? One that wouldn’t lead him down another rabbit hole. Hmmm.
Diesel: It depends on your preferences.
That was a safe answer, the one a big brother gave to his pain-in-the-ass little sister on a quest for knowledge with no one else to answer.
That was the answer a big brother gave before he told his pain-in-the-ass little sister if she found herself in the position of having to spit or swallow, he’d kill the motherfucker who made her face that choice.
Rebel: You’re confusing me. Please just tell me.
Fuck it. He definitely didn’t want her asking Kaia.
Diesel: If you like the taste of cum, you swallow. If you don’t, you spit it out.
Rebel:
He laughed at her reaction.
Diesel: Can we get back to the game?
Rebel: Would YOU rather spit or swallow?
Fuck, he should’ve known she’d ask that.
Diesel: I don’t suck cock, so the question doesn’t apply to me. Let’s return to the G rated questions.
Rebel: Those are boring. I like these better. Besides, I’m curious about sex.
Diesel: Ask Aunt Meggie.
Rebel: Momma would answer, but it would embarrass both of us. I’d prefer to ask you.
Of course she would. She was a bargain basement sadist, discovering cheap ways to torture him.
Diesel: This is inappropriate and you know it.
Rebel: YOU brought it up.
Diesel: Three questions, Rebel.
Rebel: 10
Diesel: 5
Rebel: 20
Diesel: You don’t counteroffer with a higher number.
Rebel: YOU don’t. I do.
Fuck her. No, fuck everything.
Diesel. Fine. 10.
Rebel: Deal.
Rebel: How old were you when you first had sex?
He considered lying but wondered if she knew the goddamn truth. Instead, he hedged.
Diesel: My sex life has nothing to do with your knowledge of sex.
Rebel: Very limited knowledge. Just answer.
Diesel: 15
Rebel: IRL, do you always have sex with the lights off.
Although he breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t delve deeper into his answer or use him as a guidepost for her, he reread her question two times before he responded.
Diesel: In real life as opposed to porn?
Rebel: Yes.
Diesel: No. It’s your choice if you want the lights on or not.
Rebel: How do you like it?
Diesel: Do you really want to use one of your sex ed questions to ask that?
Rebel: I guess not.
Diesel: Thought so. Next.
Rebel: Does sex hurt?
Diesel: Not unless you want it to.
Rebel: Oh. That has to do with MBSD?
Diesel considered the letters and smiled.
Diesel: BDSM. Bondage. Domination. Sadism. Masochism.
Rebel: What’s that like?
Diesel: That’s not my thing.
Rebel: For real, for real? You like to be in control and you’re a sadist. That sounds like your thing.
Diesel: I don’t live the lifestyle.
Rebel: It’s a lifestyle?
Diesel: Yes. What’s your next question?
Rebel: What is the kinkiest thing you like to do?
For the first time in a very long while, Diesel’s face flamed.
Her question embarrassed him, reminded him of why they should never be together, even after she turned eighteen.
He indulged in very depraved behavior, but she was so sweet and na?ve, she thought nothing of asking him what should’ve been a very innocent question.
Any answer he gave would corrupt her, which he absolutely didn’t want to do.
Not ‘in real life’. He’d save that for his illicit thoughts.
Diesel: I plead the 5th. Again, you’re wasting your questions on me.
Rebel: Fine. How does a penis fit into a girl? I watch porn and it slides in easily. Then I saw yours when Axel bombed your bathroom and it didn’t look the same. It wasn’t standing up.
Well, she’d done as he fucking asked. Anyone else, he could deflect.
Diesel: I was flaccid. Soft. I didn’t have an erection, so it wasn’t standing up.
Like that motherfucker was now.
Diesel: Next question.
Rebel: Does it hurt to get tested for STDs?
Diesel: No. Why ask me?
Rebel: You must’ve had at least fifty in your life.
Diesel laughed.
Diesel: I’m fucking insulted.
Rebel: No, you aren’t.
Diesel: Next.
Rebel: How does sex feel? Especially the first time? Does it hurt then?
Diesel: Sex feels different for everyone. And at no time should it hurt, Rebel. Especially if you’re with someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.
Rebel: Like you?
Diesel: I refuse to answer that. Your questions have nothing to do with me or my cock. Penis.
Rebel: Too late. Suppose I asked you to see it when it was erect?
Diesel’s dick threatened to burst through his pajama bottoms. He reminded himself that she was sweet, innocent, and illegal. Not for him. Especially now. No, not ever.
Rebel: When I’m healed and not full of bruises, I’ll send you a nude picture of me.
At that image, dizziness assailed Diesel and his breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He tightened his grip on his phone and punched the side of his head again, hoping to knock sense into his degenerate brain.
Rebel: I’m so curious.
He almost texted her that she should be curious somewhere else, but he’d been warned not to kill Kaia, the motherfucker she’d take her curiosity to.
Rebel: If we exchange pictures, does that mean we’re sexting?
WHAT?
Rebel: Something else I’ve never done.
Did she expect him to feel sorry for her?
Rebel: I guess you won’t do that either.
Diesel: You’re fucking right I won’t.
Rebel: Fine. How many positions are there?
It took a moment for Diesel to catch up to her topic change. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Diesel: As many as you can imagine.
Rebel: Can I ask your favorite?
Diesel: No.
Rebel: How did you learn about sex?
Diesel: By engaging in it.
Rebel: Starting at 15?
Diesel: Yes.
Rebel: I’ll be 15 in 29 days.
Diesel: Good for you. I turned THIRTY 17 days ago.
Rebel: I wouldn’t tell.
Diesel thought about his conversation with Torrin and Narci.
Diesel: Let’s forget about your father’s wrath, my potential death OR jail time. You wouldn’t have to tell. You wouldn’t keep it a secret. If I looked at a WOMAN, you’d lose your shit. And I’d have to keep up pretenses to hide our relationship. You couldn’t handle it.
Rebel: I’ll behave. I promise.
Diesel: Famous last words. You don’t know the fucking meaning.
Rebel:
Diesel: Why are you hellbent on torturing me? If you really love me in whatever capacity, you’ll stop.
Rebel: You’re giving me mixed signals. Haven’t YOU talked about making love to me?
Diesel: Rebel, for the love of all that’s fucking holy, STOP. I’m sending you mixed signals because I’m not right in the fucking head. What don’t you get about that? You don’t need someone as unstable as me in your life. You deserve sunshine and roses. I am nothing but darkness.
Rebel: You aren’t. You’re everything to me.
He told himself to stop engaging with her, their safer option.
His wiser choice. He couldn’t imagine his fate if Uncle Christopher ever discovered these messages.
Yet, Rebel’s nightmares concerned him. She needed him to help her get through this night and he’d allow nothing to stand in his way of that. Not even her.
Diesel: Sweetheart, let me be everything as your big brother. Let me be everything as Dee. Stick to that narrative.
Rebel: Can you?
Diesel: I must.
Rebel:
Diesel: I’m sorry.
Rebel: Me, too.
Diesel: That doesn’t mean you have to give Kaia another chance.
Rebel: I care about him. He made a mistake and he knows it. I was happy with him before the volleyball game. He was a good boyfriend.
Boyfriend. Diesel glared at the words that jumped out at him, taunting him with the knowledge of what it could never mean for him and Rebel.
Rebel: Do I have any more questions left?
She didn’t, but he wanted to know her thoughts.
Diesel: What?
Rebel: Does sex smell gross?
Diesel: Sex is a sensory experience. You should enjoy everything about it. Sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell. Can we get back to the game or are you tired?
Rebel: I have a better idea. We can text each other links to some of our favorite songs, then give a thumbs up or a thumbs down and explain why we feel that way.
It sounded like a lot of work, but if it made her happy, he’d do it. Besides, texting had never been so simple and unencumbered with a hidden agenda. He smiled at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest as frantically as if he was a fifteen-year-old talking to a girl for the first time.
Diesel: Sure, sweetheart.