Chapter 7
DIESEL
SEVEN YEARS AGO…
I figured Hawk would have a hell of a time convincing Callie to stay, but within an hour of him walking over to where she stood at the side of the garage, she headed inside with her shoulders squared and her jaw locked.
Following her wasn’t exactly in my job description. Noticing things was.
Staying out of the way and making sure people stayed safe gave me plenty to do.
I swung around to the back of the shop, entering through the narrow doorway that led straight into a corridor that took five steps to navigate until I entered the office.
A single window offered a view of the inside of the garage, and I propped my shoulder on the wall, crossed my arms, and did what I did best.
Callie stood in the middle of the garage holding a wrench nearly the length of her forearm.
It dangled beside her leg, the scars on her hands standing out when she rotated her wrist into the light.
Dylan and one of the prospects stood a couple feet away.
Dylan laughed at something, his gaze shooting to Callie as though prompting her to join in.
The other guy performed some kind of song and dance routine that ended with him grabbing the bench beside Callie to keep from falling on his ass.
She froze for a full heartbeat, then took a quick step back and to the side, the wrench moving up and forward in a protective gesture that lit my gut on fire.
Who the hell had bothered her enough that protection had become her first instinct?
My fists curled.
I forced them open, forced my fingers to flex, but they curled again, and a low vibration rumbled from my chest.
Holy fuck. Was I growling?
Where had that come from?
I dug my fingers into my arms to keep them from tightening into fists again.
She was not in any danger, not from Dylan or anyone else here.
I’d make sure of that, but it didn’t mean I should run around with my fists ready to take care of any talking.
Dylan elbowed the guy who’d finally regained his balance and the two of them straightened.
They laughed again, whatever story they told growing wilder based on Dylan’s over exaggerated motions.
I edged the office door open and crossed the room to stand beside the Harley frame locked in the base and ready for a second coat of paint.
Both men stiffened, their voices fading into muted squeaks.
I ignored them, did my best to ignore Callie, and picked up the paint sprayer.
We didn’t do a lot of our own paintwork, but my vested interest over the years had prompted Hawk to bring in some equipment.
I adjusted the nozzle and sprayed a layer of matte black over the rear of the frame.
Metal clinked as Callie lowered the wrench to the work station and wiped her hands on a dirty shop rag.
She shot me a sideways look, the profile of her straight nose and full mouth begging for attention.
I ignored her the best I could, despite wondering about the tiny scar in her left eyebrow.
Dylan and the prospect left through the open bay door, their voices picking up halfway across the yard.
Callie continued shooting me those sideways looks while she worked on a motor sitting in pieces on the bench.
Her brows drew together, her fingers quick and efficient as she turned bolts and fitted pieces together. “You don’t talk much, do you.”
It wasn’t a question, which meant I didn’t have to say a damned thing.
Instead, I sprayed another line of black paint, walking around to the other side of the frame for a better look. “You prefer chatter?”
“Hell no.” A rough laugh barked out.
I grunted and put the sprayer back on its hook before walking all the way around the frame.
My boots scuffed on the concrete floor, mixing with the clink of metal from Callie.
We worked in silence for over an hour.
Every minute that passed, her body relaxed by degrees, the tightness in her jaw the last thing to go.
I waited her out, using the time in the shop to my advantage. “Not sure if Hawk told you, but if you ever have trouble with the hydraulics on bay two, the button likes to stick. All you have to do is put a little oil underneath.”
She nodded, her full attention on the engine. “Thanks.”
“Looks like the same engine you took apart last week.”
Her shoulders hunched forward. “So what if it is.”
“If it is, and if it’s for Mikey, then the engine isn’t the problem.
Mikey is.” I stayed several feet away, my body turned to the side to keep from looking confrontational.
“Mikey likes to buy his fuel from a cheap shop a couple towns over. Been telling him for years he’s ruining his bike but he likes the deal.
Feels like he’s sticking it to the man.”
Callie cursed long and low, her head going side to side before she cupped her hands on either side of her head and propped her elbows on the counter.
“You mean I’ve been rebuilding this engine for no reason?
” She shot to her feet. “I even asked him about the fuel. I knew it didn’t smell right.
Son of a bitch.” She stared straight ahead and took several deep breaths.
“I’ll talk to Mikey again.” It was the least I could do.
“What’s going on here, Diesel?”
I stiffened at the sound of my name on her lips.
I hadn’t heard it since we lay tangled in bed together, and it punched straight through me, taking my breath and leaving me craving her touch. “Not sure what you mean.”
Her head lifted from her hands.
She pressed her palms against the edge of the bench and stood, turning slowly to face me.
Three feet separated us, but the way she looked me over cut it to nothing. “What are you, Hawk, and Colt doing? Hawk gave me some excuse, but I want to hear from you.”
Some excuse. I knew what Hawk had told her. He’d given her the truth, and I had to do the same. “We have rules, Callie.” I let myself say her name out loud, just to taste it and to see if she reacted the same way I did.
Her eyes fluttered shut then widened, the pupils dilating at the same time she pulled in a sharp breath through her nose. “I know that.”
“We have rules to keep the men from turning on each other. If we let multiple men claim the same woman, then things get messy.”
Her chin lifted, her eyes going cold and narrow. “Women are not property to be claimed.”
“That’s why any time there’s a problem like this, the woman is the one to choose.” She could do that. She could choose one of us and this would all be over. “But then there are still hard feelings.”
“Because a man who’s been rejected usually decides it’s the woman’s fault and tries to ruin her.” She said it so calmly it must come from experience, and the urge to punch something threatened all over again.
I let her have that truth without argument. “Hawk and Colt have history. And they both have enough responsibility to strangle them. One wrong move and Hawk could lose his leadership. If the members think he’s going weak, someone will take his place.”
She didn’t move. The whole garage went silent as death around us.
A rhythmic tick, tick, tick came from Callie as she tapped her blunted nails on the metal workbench.
She gave me another of those long looks that worked beneath years of locking myself away from feeling…from emotion.
A few strands of hair fluttered around her face in a light breeze from the overhead fan, and she didn’t brush them away.
She barely moved at all, but when she did, it was to take a step toward me instead of away.
My internal alarm system blared a warning when every cell in my body begged me to take her into my arms.
Attachment got people killed. No one I’d ever loved had survived my love.
Hawk and Colt didn’t count.
“Callie.” Her name left me against my will.
She took another step. “I understand having rules. I really do. But some rules are not worth obeying.”
What was she doing? I couldn’t move away. We locked eyes and my hand slid down her arm and across to her waist when she stopped close enough for me to smell her vanilla soap mixed with machine oil.
She shivered and placed both palms on my chest.
The growl returned, this time for a whole new reason.
I palmed her hips and brought our bodies flush together, capturing her mouth in a kiss that burned through me, obliterating my objections.
My body couldn’t care less about warnings and consequences.
I wanted her.
Based on her reactions and the fact she initiated our encounter, she wanted me too.
A tiny, mean voice in the back of my mind said she did it on purpose to drive a wedge between me, Hawk, and Colt.
To hell with it.
I traced the seam of her lips with my tongue, and she opened for me with a soft sigh, her body going soft and warm against mine.
I shouldn’t let her do this to me but damn it all I craved the feel of her, the way she sighed and shifted her hips to cradle my cock.
Her nails scraped over my chest, her fingers digging into my t-shirt until she held a handful of cotton.
With a quick pull, she silently tugged me toward the office.
I could refuse.
It wouldn’t take much.
All I had to do was end the kiss, look her in the eye, and tell her no.
I didn’t do any of those things.
I let her back me toward the office, our boots knocking into each other with every step.
She almost stumbled, and I wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her on her feet.
At least for a little while longer.
I reached behind me and opened the door, pulling us both through.
Callie broke off the kiss and turned us around, closing and locking the door with a smile before she pulled down the shade on the window and crossed the room to lock the second door that led to the back.
“Are you sure?” I gave her the chance to change her mind.
Her smile stretched, her eyes softening as she reached for the hem of her flannel and pulled it over her head, leaving her in her jeans, boots, and a black lace bra.
Yeah, okay.
I could take a hint.
I bent, hooked her knees over my arms, and lifted her onto the desk.
Her ass hit with a soft thump, and her arms locked around my neck, pinning my face between her breasts.
I removed her boots without looking, my lips trailing kisses across her collarbones and down the center of her breasts where the bra dipped low.
The front clasp came open with a quick flick of my fingers.
I took a nipple into my mouth and sucked.
“Diesel.” Her back arched, her nails across my scalp sending goosebumps down my spine.
She could say my name like that for the rest of my life and I’d never grow tired of it.
I sucked again and worked the button on her jeans.
Between lifting her with one hand and her shimmying, we managed to remove her pants and underwear without me losing contact with her nipple.
I bit it lightly, then rasped my tongue over the pebbled peak.
Her groan and the way her hands tightened on the back of my neck prompted me to do it again.
I slid a hand between her legs and cupped her pussy, groaning at the heat radiating off her.
Her sweet scent rose around me, and my cock throbbed. I needed inside her.
Now.
But that was what I needed.
What Callie needed mattered more, and I was determined to make sure I took care of her.
I settled between her knees, her bare skin smooth beneath my palms when I ran them down her back and over the curve of her ass.