Chapter Thirty-Six
Kaia: Will you be my Valentine?
Rebel: How, silly? We haven’t even gone on our first date.
Kaia: I want to take you out to dinner on Valentine’s.
Rebel: Thank you. I would like that very much.
Kaia: It’s a date, sweetheart.
Rebel: Bet.
If her room hadn’t been insulated, Rebel’s scream at Kaia’s invitation would’ve brought the roof down. Giggling, she threw her phone on her bed, twirled, clapped, and bounced up and down.
“Okay, okay,” she said, fanning her face, unconcerned that she’d lost her towel and didn’t have a stitch of clothes on.
No one could see her, and she’d taken to shoving a stepladder under her door so Diesel couldn’t enter in the middle of the night and watch her like a creepy motherfucker.
Not that he would since Daddy put the fear of Outlaw in him.
She inquired about his well-being at the breakfast table and, later, when the family ate dinner. He responded with as much brotherly affection as possible. But he was a control freak. Over text, he told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to ditch the dating app.
Kaia’s invitation removed her annoyance at having to deal with Nyx earlier at the club. She understood why Momma brought that cunt back, but Rebel couldn’t stand that heifer.
As for Narci and Potter, she wasn’t sure if she’d even forgive those assholes. On the other hand, as CJ pointed out once they got home and she went to his room to read another chapter, fair was fair. She forgave Diesel. She needed to give the other guys a chance, too.
Besides, she wasn’t sure if she’d forgiven Diesel or not for his role in CJ’s overdose. In so many ways, she still saw him as a motherfucking asshole. If CJ had died, she would’ve fucking killed Diesel. He was supposed to be protect their brother, instead of being led astray by cunts.
Still, worry for Diesel niggled at her. He’d been so strange that night in the forest.
Rebel thought of Kaia. His behavior confused her. How could he like her so much if he lost contact with her so easily? She’d despaired the date he’d promised her would never come to fruition.
Then, suddenly… BAM! Four days after he started calling and texting her again, he asked her out. And for Valentine’s Day, no less.
She’d left her bathroom after her shower and found the first message…
Giddy, she placed her hand on her forehead and fell back onto her bed, pretending to swoon. Flat on her back, she stared at her crystal chandelier, then lifted herself onto her elbows and glanced at her clock on her dresser.
It was after midnight. Her parents were locked behind closed doors and Kaia asking her out for Valentine’s Day didn’t qualify as an emergency.
She’d text Mattie.
Sitting up, her damp, uncombed hair registered, and she scowled. Long hair was such a fucking chore sometimes. If she left it and fell asleep, she’d awaken to snarls and tangles.
First, she’d get her comb, then she’d dial Mattie, and put her speaker on so they could talk while Rebel saw to her hair.
Her course of action set, she hopped off the bed and started toward her bathroom when the sound of a lock disengaging reached her. She froze. Stared at the turning doorknob. Smirked at the inability to push the door open.
In spite of her anger and her father’s warning living in her head, she couldn’t decide what she wanted to do. What she wanted him to do. Her heart pounded in anticipation. Would he knock? Or retreat in defeat?
The knob turned again. “Fuck!” traveled through the door.
Fuck what he wanted. What did she want? This was about her, not him.
No matter what guys liked to think, if a girl didn’t want him, he had no say.
She’d seen it play out with her parents.
When Daddy angered Momma, he couldn’t get back into her good graces until she allowed it.
She’d seen it play out with the biker girls, and they were there to please the men.
Yet, if they didn’t like a particular dude, they ignored him.
The knob turned again.
Rebel sucked her lower lip into her mouth. Waiting. Hoping. Afraid to stay silent and afraid to rush to the door.
If he didn’t knock and she opened the door, wouldn’t that mean she conceded something? She wasn’t sure what Diesel was doing, given the circumstances.
He’d turned weird. Instead of fearing Daddy, Diesel…?
She didn’t know. Except he wanted things his way and he played with his life.
Two minutes passed and the knob didn’t turn again. She chomped on one of her short, jagged fingernails and spat it out. Disappointment bloomed inside her. Maybe she should’ve hurried to the door and opened it.
Her phone buzzed. She rushed to her bed and grabbed it.
Diesel: Open your fucking door before someone catches me .
She didn’t waste time. She ran to her door, removing the stepladder jammed under the knob. Once she unlocked it and slid the chain off the door, she swung it open.
Diesel wore only pajama bottoms. His hand was no longer bandaged, but an angry wound between his thumb and index finger looked quite painful. It didn’t seem to bother him, so Rebel didn’t mention it.
He shouldn’t be in her room at all, but especially in his state of undress.
His bare torso revealed the wide perfection of his chest dusted with hair, and hard abs. Swaths of hair fell onto his forehead. The hunger in his gray eyes frightened and excited her.
He swept his gaze over her and groaned. “You’re naked,” he breathed.
Covering herself hadn’t crossed her mind. She was so comfortable with her body, she walked around nude on many occasions in the privacy of her room.
She stepped aside. “I’ll get a robe.”
Grunting, he brushed past her. She closed the door.
Diesel walked to her refrigerator and took her last beer.
“This is my room, fuckhead,” she grouched, stomping to the bathroom where she’d left her robe. A glance in the mirror reminded her she needed to plait her hair, so she swiped a comb from the counter, then stalked back into her room.
Head bowed, Diesel sat on the sofa, one arm spread out over the back. The beer rested on his knee, the other hand wrapped around it. He held the bottle out to her.
“Take a sip.”
She eyed him. Her wariness surprised her. This was Diesel . He wouldn’t hurt her. Yet he’d allowed those girls to hurt CJ. His recent behavior alarmed her.
He tipped the bottle toward her. “Take a fucking sip, Rebel.”
The command mobilized her, and she walked to her plush little chair, opting for the one farthest away and out of his reach. “Fuck you.” She plopped down. “I don’t want a fucking drink.”
He glared at her. “Shut the fuck up. You sound like a forty-year-old whore.”
“Lovely. Since I didn’t seek you out, motherfucker, get the fuck out of my room. You’re not sitting your fucking ass in my private space and insulting me.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
She began combing her hair. “How the fuck is that my problem?”
He shrugged and gulped beer. “I thought seeing you would calm me.”
“You thought breaking and entering into my fucking room, and watching me sleep, would calm you.” She hit a tangle and tried to jerk the comb through. Instead, pain shot through her scalp, and she hissed. “Sorry to disrupt your stalking.”
A smile curved his lips and amusement danced in his eyes. He finished the beer and sat the bottle on her coffee table. “I don’t stalk anyone, but especially not you.”
She smirked and parted her hair. “Your presence in my room suggests otherwise.”
“You opened the door.”
“Because you couldn’t get in. Don’t twist the narrative to appease your guilt, fuckface.”
His eyes narrowed. “What am I guilty of?”
“I’m not playing this game with you, Diesel.” As much as she tried to go toe-to-toe with him—and many times succeeded—he was beginning to overwhelm her and throw her off-kilter. “I’m tired. I want to plait my hair and go to sleep. ”
If she’d waited to wash her hair until tomorrow, she wouldn’t bother with it. Blow drying would take longer than plaits, so she opted for the lesser of two evils.
Diesel stood, and sauntered to her, the pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. She could just see the outline of his cock. Her face flaming, she lowered her lashes.
His fingertips touched her chin and he tipped her head up.
She opened her eyes. His erection greeted her and her breath hitched.
The moment she met his gaze, he transfixed her.
He caressed her cheek, staring at her, daring her to look away.
Slowly, he slid his hand along her jawline, tracing the shell of her ear, before burying his fingers in her hair.
Her skin prickled and her scalp tingled.
He walked behind her, his hand still tangled in her hair. A moment later, he kissed the back of her head, audibly sniffed, and kissed the same spot again.
“I smell lavender,” he murmured, the warmth of his nearness, the heat of his touch, setting her aflame. “Aunt Meggie uses lemon and lavender in the house. But I smell another scent in your hair.”
“Bergamot,” she croaked.
He buried his nose in her hair again and sniffed. “Bergamot,” he echoed.
“It’s one of my favorite essential oils.”
Instead of responding, he began massaging her scalp. Rebel searched for a topic, but her mind was blank. She felt shy and awkward. Desire hummed through her; butterflies swooped in her belly; her nipples hardened and between her legs throbbed. When he left, she’d pleasure herself and think of him.
By the time he started plaiting her hair, she was trembling. He turned a task she’d done countless times into passion. Once he finished, he stepped away from her .
“Stand up and open your robe, sweetheart. Let me look at you.”
She heaved in a breath. It was one thing to undress while his back was turned and then force him to see her nude. This was different. It would alter their relationship yet again. Turn it truly forbidden.
Her father’s warning beat through her head. She couldn’t understand why Diesel risked his life by visiting her and asking her to do things they both knew were wrong.
“I’m scared for you,” she whispered. “Daddy wasn’t joking.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He closed his eyes. The scent of alcohol wafted from him. It was more than just one beer. “You’re just…I can’t get…” He opened his eyes again. “Let me see you. You have such a beautiful body. Sheer perfection.”
As much as she wanted to resist him for so many different reasons, she couldn’t. Not only didn’t she want to disappoint him, but he sounded so sad and tortured, and she’d been so mean to him.
She stood and brought her hand to the sash at her waist. Her movements were slow, strained by nervousness. Diesel’s eyes darkened and his erection thickened. The intensity on his face captivated her.
He walked to her and put his hand over hers, his body so close she felt his hard length. He finished opening her robe and placed his hands on her hips.
“Your skin is like velvet.”
Nodding, she brought her hands to his powerful chest and fanned them over his hot skin.
She teased his nipples, leaned in and kissed the center of his chest, breathing in the spiciness of his body wash.
Her fingers trailed down and reached his pajama bottoms. Before she slid inside, he grabbed her wrists.
“Don’t,” he warned her.
“But—”
“I can’t fuck you right now.”
Right now was an improvement from his once firm never . It would mean his gruesome death if her father found out, but Rebel would make sure he didn’t.
She tried to snatch her wrists out of his grasp.
“If you touch my cock, I won’t be able to hold back from burying myself deep in your pussy.”
Releasing her wrists, he stepped back from her and held her robe open.
“Your pretty snatch smells delicious.”
Shame roared through her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I-I might need another shower.” She didn’t smell herself, but that he did humiliated her.
A sexy smile curved his lips. “No, sweetheart. There’s nothing wrong with you or your hygiene. I’m attuned to your body and smell how ready you are for me.”
“Okay,” she said, trusting him and believing his explanation.
“I have to go before I do something even more regrettable.”
“Before, when you couldn’t sleep, what did you do?”
“Called one of the club girls to fuck. Drank. Popped pills.” He let the edges of her robe slip from his grasp. “All three.”
“I see.”
Harshness spread over his face. “Do you?”
What could she say? He was right. She didn’t understand and she didn’t know if seeing her relaxed him or if he still needed one of his tried-and-true methods tonight.
“Are you…are you going back to your room when you leave here?”
“Probably not. Visiting you hasn’t relaxed me one fucking bit,” he confirmed. “You were supposed to be asleep. Instead, you locked me out. ”
“I wasn’t asleep in the first place. Having you watch me while I’m unaware is creepy. What if I drool? Or…or talk in my sleep? Or…or…”
“You do none of those things.”
“I won’t block the door anymore.”
She waited for his concession—he’d return to his room—but he remained silent. He bent and kissed her cheek.
“Have a good night, sweetheart.”
Just like that, he was gone.