Chapter Six #2
“Fuck, I’ll come, too. Just shut the fuck up and stop with the fucking crying. You’re giving me a headache. ”
“I want to be in class with you and Mattie, Reb,” Harley said, sniffling.
She looked so remorseful but Rebel didn’t believe Harley knew the fucking definition.
She wasn’t the only one who felt that way either. No one responded.
“Kaia said you’re going out with him next week,” his younger brother, Kayce, announced like a big-mouthed dickhead.
CJ’s eyes widened. “You are?”
“How come you didn’t tell us, Reb?” Axel demanded.
“So you could tease me? No fucking thank you.”
The glances her brothers exchanged raised Rebel’s suspicions. Before she questioned them, the bell rang.
Lunch was over.
Sitting in his office at the law firm, Diesel went over each and every moment of his early morning encounter with Rebel. After she’d stormed away, he hadn’t snorted coke or drunk himself into oblivion where memories faded with the rising of the sun.
He’d made it to his room and closed his eyes, the image of Torie’s faceless corpse replaced with those of Rebel asleep in her bed.
Standing in the forest, arms folded around her waist, waiting for him.
The noises Torie made as she died were replaced with the sweet sound of Rebel’s voice. Her laughter. Her challenges .
The look on Rebel’s face when she’d accused him of sleeping with Torie.
Diesel panicked and lied. He’d needed Rebel to cleanse his mind of Uncle Christopher’s brutality.
This weekend had been good. Things felt normal, better than it had in a long time. Later this afternoon, Uncle Christopher was coming over for a meeting. Not knowing the reason left Diesel a little nervous.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he leaned back in his executive’s chair.
His office wasn’t as big as Brooks’s or Kendall’s, but it was quite luxurious.
Between Aunt Meggie, Charlotte Redding, and Kendall, the office décor boasted a Charleston executive desk, matching file cabinets, bookcase, and credenza, a hand-knotted Persian rug, and signed paintings by Contemporary artists.
He’d fucked Tabitha on many occasions on the camel-colored tufted sofa.
Most recently, he’d licked Jana’s pussy there.
Jana .
She hadn’t been gone long, only a week. Usually, by now, he missed her. Or felt regret that he couldn’t help her more. Or felt something . Now, Rebel crowded his mind, coupled with shame, desire, and regret.
How the fuck had he gone so fucking far off the rails with her?
Not long after he married Tabitha, he realized his irrationality—fueled by alcohol and drugs—led him to a fucking stupid decision. The answer to not trusting a fucking bitch? Marry her.
Concerned that Uncle Christopher would gut him for listening to that fucking bitch? Break into his underaged daughter’s room, watch her while she slept, then invite her to a clandestine meeting.
Excellent fucking reasoning.
He owed Rebel so many apologies. If she hadn’t declined, he would’ve ended up in her bed. Whether he could’ve fucked her, the jury hadn’t reached a verdict. He’d been drunk off his ass. Par for the course when he made fucked up decisions.
Still , he would’ve been marked for death. Prison wouldn’t have protected him. The Dwellers put out hits on inmates.
Diesel leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Until he obliterated her nude body from his mind, he had to stay away from Rebel. She was his younger sister .
Adopted sister.
Without warning, his door opened, and his wife sashayed in, holding two thick file folders.
Her round ass and big titties served as his downfall.
The moment he’d met her, he couldn’t wait to fuck her.
Her botoxed lips pillowed his balls when she sucked his cock.
He’d thought her pretty. Now, she looked like a heavily made-up caricature with brown-blonde hair and flat blue eyes.
She slammed the door shut.
They hadn’t spoken to each other much in the last week. He hated the sound of her voice.
She sat the folders in front of him. Her tit brushed his arm. He smelled her perfume and her desire. His cock jerked and hardened.
Diesel clenched his jaw. Every secret he’d ever shared with Tabitha ran through his mind. Each suspicion her behavior raised once he married her swarmed his thoughts.
She laid her hand on his shoulder. A sparkle flashed in the corner of his eye. The diamond she’d wanted and he’d bought her a few weeks after their wedding. To get her the fuck off his back. To bribe her into silence. A combination?
He didn’t know then and he didn’t know now.
However, he’d finally uncovered a partial truth.
She was affiliated with Bash. He would visit the motherfucker and then go to Uncle Christopher, instead of the other way around as originally planned.
If he revealed his intentions and Uncle Chris vetoed the idea, Diesel might lose the opportunity to see what Bash wanted and how Tabitha fit in.
But Tabitha’s duplicity and his own stupidity made him doubly hate her. He wanted to humiliate her before he killed her. Just as Uncle Christopher did Torie.
Tabitha forced herself between his chair and desk, leaving him no choice but to slide back. He threw her a dark look.
Her nipples beaded. His breath hitched and his balls tingled.
Getting to his feet, he glowered into her eyes, despising her for destroying his last bit of hope in the female sex.
Aunt Meggie and the other six women in their family were anomalies.
No, the other five. Bailey had turned into a fucking miserable cunt, too.
Tabitha finished the lesson his mother had begun years ago.
He grabbed his wife’s throat, jerked her forward, and licked her lips. He squeezed until she choked and fear rose in her eyes. Smiling, he relented on the pressure, but didn’t release her.
He brought his lips to her ear, dripping with dangly diamonds. “I fucking hate you,” he breathed. “I’m going to kill you as you suck my cock. Shoot you in your fucking head.”
It was his biggest fantasy, the one he came hardest to. The one she never believed.
“You don’t have the balls,” she mocked. “Big talk from a little man.”
He straightened, ran a finger along her cheek and down to the bodice of her short sweater dress. He slid a hand inside, felt her warm flesh, and squeezed her nipple. Tears rushed to her eyes and pain erased her derision.
“You’re right, Tabi Cat,” he said, using Rebel’s nickname for her. “I wouldn’t want your death grip ruining my dick. I’ll do it as I come in your face.”
He hadn’t let her nipple or her throat go. She trembled. Moaned. Her wet lashes fluttered and her nose reddened.
“Weep, love,” he murmured. “Beg. Cry.”
She obliged and burst into tears.
Grinning, he cocked his head to the side. “There, there, sweetheart,” he crooned, finally releasing her. He lifted her dress, shoved her thong aside, and massaged her big clit. A thin layer of fuzz covered her cunt.
“You’re sopping wet. You love to fuck me, don’t you?”
She glared at him, forever resenting her addiction to his cock.
“So does Nyx, Diana, Joplin, Fia, and Tauriel. Their beavers are so much prettier than yours.”
He shoved three fingers into Tabitha’s hot pussy. Pressing her lips together, she jerked. His thumb fluttered over her clit.
“I love the taste of Nyx’s cunt the best,” he said conversationally, sliding his fingers in and out of his wife and thumbing her clit. “It’s like sweet cream.”
Rebel’s would taste even sweeter. On their date after her sixteenth birthday, he’d eat her out and show her how to suck him off.
Shame-fueled anger surged into him, and he growled. Thrust a fourth finger into Tabitha’s snatch. Moved his thumb faster over her clit. She tipped her head back, and he bent, biting her neck. He exposed the tit he’d abused. An angry red colored her swollen nipple .
He bent his head and clamped his teeth around it. Her cry hardened his cock further. Her juices dripped down his hand.
Again, he straightened and stared into her eyes, holding her gaze, daring her to look away. “You have such a dirty, sloppy cunt.”
Slipping her fingers through his hair, she panted. He jerked his fingers out of her and sucked them.
Her eyes glazed. “Lick my pussy,” she begged.
Smirking, he freed his aching cock, sat Tabitha on the edge of his desk, spread her thighs, and thrust into her.
He covered her mouth, swallowing her cry.
His fingers dug into her hips. He pounded into her without mercy, wanting to come before he tipped her over the edge.
He hated that she found pleasure no matter how brutally he took her. She loved to fuck.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he leaned his forehead against hers. He knew she was close. Her pussy was hotter, wetter, sloppier. Her body was flushed and her mouth parted.
He moved his fingers from her hips and wrapped them around her throat. Just as she started to come, he squeezed her neck.
She gagged and shivered. Her pussy gushed, coating his cock and his balls. Her legs trembled.
He remembered Torie’s last moments. Imagined Tabitha pissing herself before laying dead at his feet.
She made another choking noise and cum exploded from him, filling her.
He shoved her away and jerked out of her, disappointed.
“You’re lucky I came before I decided to completely cut off your oxygen.”
Backing away, he tucked his cock into his trousers. She fell back onto his desk and sobbed. Unmoved, he studied her swollen, red beaver. Her hole leaked cum. Her slit and lips glistened.
“Get the fuck out of my office, you fucking bitch.”
Sitting up, she slid off the desk. If she’d been a man, he would’ve decked her months ago. Of course, if she’d been a man, he wouldn’t have fucked her in the first place.
“You’re going to regret this,” she said around sniffles.
He’d just have to kill her quicker. Before she caused him anymore remorse. Just as soon as he met with Bash, this bitch was dead.
“Doubtful.” He shrugged. “Can’t be anymore than I fucking regret ever laying eyes on you.”
“Fucking bastard. I hate you .”
“Then fucking leave, so I never have to see your wretched fucking face again.”
“I thought you were different,” she cried. “Easier. More manageable. What happened to the Diesel I met?”
Diesel gave her an icy smile. “ You , cunt. You fucking happened.”