by HJ Bellus
“You.” I grab his hands to stop them from moving. “How you make me feel and where you came from?”
He groans. “How do I make you feel?”
“Like a goddess.”
“Nice. Never heard that before.”
“So, where did you come from, Fuel? And don’t respond with my momma.”
“New Mexico.”
“Do you have family here?”
“No, just picked a spot on the map and moved. Found the first mechanic shop in town and asked for a job.”
“Wait.” I whirl around in his lap careful to not knee him in his taco warmer. “Are you an outlaw on the run? If so, that totally takes your sexy up to complete badass.”
“No,” he chuckles.
“Then why leave New Mexico.”
“Adventure,” he shrugs with a crooked, devilish smile.
“Wild at heart?”
He nods. “Seems I’ve found the perfect match in you.”
“If you can handle me that is.” I rise up, rubbing on his hard cock then settle back down over him.
His eyes roll back, he bites down on his bottom lip then grips the sides of my hips. He tries to guide me, but I set the pace for him.
“Don’t you miss your family?” I ask while riding him.
“Don’t have any.”
I pause for a moment with my hands planted on his chest. “Well, that was slightly awkward.”
I giggle then hear his laughter follow mine. All thoughts of conversation evaporate ensuing round number two of sexcapades between us. The water sloshes over the sides as our skin slaps together. The new position allows Diesel to reach deeper inside me, hitting that magic spot. It only takes me a few more thrusts to reach climax, and I’m shocked when Diesel follows me.
He sits up, dropping his head on my chest keeping me clutched to him for dear life. Taylor never got off with me on top always insisting it wasn’t good enough for him. I know I shouldn’t constantly be comparing the two of them, but it’s impossible. I thought Taylor was it for me. I thought my heart would be shattered forever and my sex life filled with two-inch dicks and awkward moments.
Until Diesel.
“Guess we have to clean up again.” His deep voice vibrates off my sensitive skin.
Diesel reaches up running more hot water and then begins cleaning me. It feels odd to be taken care off. I’m typically quick with a witty response, but am quiet this time letting him take care of me.
He doesn’t stop at washing me, but lifts me from the tub, and begins drying me off from head to toe. I don’t miss the fact he lingers quite a while on my nipples making sure they’re squeaky clean with a dazzling shine to them.
After he dries himself off, Diesel finally speaks up. “I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers.”
I watch the globes of his naked ass cheeks as he sways out of the bathroom. The man has me wrapped up in a very hardcore trance. I fear I’ll never be able to break out of it because of sheer lack of willpower.
“They’re clean, but nothing to write home about.” He hands me a sexy pair of black boxers.
“Perfect.” I step into the boxers and slide them up my legs.
I have to roll over the top of them, but besides that, they fit perfectly. I toss on my top not worrying about putting on a bra. Because let’s face it the man has seen and sampled all the goods.
“Pizza?” He asks, rubbing his stomach.
“I’m starving. Sounds perfect.”
I follow him down the hallway studying his back and the sexy red boxers hugging his ass. Then my gaze drifts up to his ink. It’s impressive covering every single inch of him. The complete opposite of Taylor or any other man I’ve been with. Maybe that’s the secret to all of it; I was looking in all the wrong places.
“What do you like?”
“Um, anything besides pineapple or those little dead fish.”
He grabs his cellphone and chuckles. “Seems we will be ordering two different pizzas then.”
“You eat those dead little fish,” I screech.
“No, baby.” He runs his hands through his wet hair. “Hawaiian is my favorite. The only kind I eat.”
“Thank God. Because little dead fish eating would knock you down a rung or two on the sexy factor.”
“Can’t have that now can we,” he winks then dials his phone.
I listen to his deep voice in the background as he orders the pizza and decide to check out his place. I mean I really didn’t have the time earlier due to being attacked in the most delicious sexy way.
It’s a bachelor pad containing only what it needs. Couch, big screen television, motor head magazines, a guitar propped in the corner, and an empty case of beer on the counter. It’s an open space with the only walls being the one to the bathroom and his bedroom. I like how simple it is.
A framed picture catches my attention, and I study it being careful not to be caught. It’s a collage of pictures of him and whom I’m assuming is his mother. He varies from age, but one thing that doesn’t is the woman’s proud smile. A picture in the corner of the collage causes me to gasp, but I manage to hold most of it in.
It’s a grown-up image of Diesel leaning down on one knee with a handful of white roses in front of a headstone. The image brings tears to my eyes. His comment that he has no family, hitting me hard.
“Hey.” I feel strong arms wrap around me from the back. “How’s the first date going so far.”
I turn fast tucking away all my feelings and the picture and lace my arms around his neck. “Perfect.”
He reaches down and kisses me lightly.
“We sorta moved fast, though,” I wink.
He blushes. “Yeah, that’s not my typical pace, but I couldn’t hold back.”
“It’s my charm. Happens to men all over the world.” I kiss him this time.
Diesel moves us backward until we both collapse on the couch. He manages to wrap me up in his lap and kick his feet up on the coffee table. He turns on the television and begins clicking through channels.
“You want to watch TV right now?” I ask.
“I need a distraction, or I might break my dick tonight.”
I bellow out in laughter until tears stream down my face and my stomach aches. I’m certain I’ve met my soul mate.
When the doorbell rings, Diesel hops up, grabs his wallet, and takes care of business.
“Do you make a habit of answering the door like that?” I point to his exposed skin and boxers.
“I worked up an appetite,” he winks.
I’m certain in this moment that I’ll never get enough of this man. He’s seen me at my worst and best climaxing moments and still hasn’t fled to another country. We settle on the couch and begin devouring the pizza straight from the box. My style. I mean why dirty a dish when you don’t have to. In a matter of minutes, I’m stuffed to the brim with pepperoni and mushroom pizza and my napkins well used.
Diesel continues to eat, and I’m confident he’s not stopping until the box is empty. Good boy, more stamina. I go for the gold and pick a chick flick. It’s something Taylor would never have gone for. It was always shoot-up and kill ‘em type suspense movies. I enjoyed them, but also love a variety of movies.
Diesel doesn’t even flinch with my choice of movies, but it could be the fact he’s still dry humping his box of pizza.
“This okay?” I try, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.
“Sure,” he shrugs.
I settle in next to him and sandwich myself between him and the pizza box relaxing under his arm outstretched over the back of the couch. We spend the rest of the night cuddled on the couch fondling each other like love-struck teens. As far as I’m concerned, that’s what I am.
Chapter 10
The last week has blurred by way too quick for my liking. Only one more week until Hitler, I mean Olivia, gets home. I know she’ll have words for me. The effects of Diesel and I hooking up have been playing on repeat in my head.
Yes, I call
it hooking even though my heart has already fallen hook, line, and sinker for the man. I’ve tried to process out the possible outcomes if we did have a tragic wreck. Olivia will be at the shop, and I’ll be off doing the summer thing Scout always does, so what’s the worst thing that could happen?
Jesus, I squeeze my thighs together thinking about the man. Sitting in the office, all day watching him in his environment is a testament to my willpower. Diesel covered in grease bent over a fender working on the engine with his forearms flexing is a damn fine sight. I can’t even think about the times he straddles his bike at the end of the day.
We’ve kept our hooking-up on the down low from Olivia’s Dad. The man has enough stress in his life right now. I swear he’s been eating a whole bottle of Tums since Olivia left. I know it’s been hard on him having Olivia away and beginning a new life, even if he does love Oren…it’s still hard on the old man.
“Going on a run for parts. Diesel will be back in a few hours with parts for that piece of shit Jap car out back. You’ll be the only one around.” Olivia’s Dad barks then downs a handful of Tums.
“Aye aye, captain bossy pants.” I stand up stretching out my neck. This book work shit is nothing to joke about. “You have heartburn again?”
“Fucking chest. It seems I can’t even drink water without getting it.” He rubs his chest.
“You should get that checked out.” I wave my hands wildly in the air. “You know just my inner-Olivia.”
He nods and then grins. “I’m all right.”
Man of few words. He leaves, and the next thing I hear is his old Ford truck roaring to life. It’s one of his many modes of transportation. I go back to the work ahead of me. Olivia had a bright idea of getting all of her father’s past decade of records organized. If you ask me, why fix it if it’s not broken. I crank up my iPhone docked on the speaker station while going back to sorting records while rocking out to Vanilla Ice.
Pedro farts a few times while nestled in my lap. Thank God they don’t stink, allowing me to carry on. Only a few more hundred stacks, but at least I’m making headway on this shit. Can’t complain too much because monotonous work is right up my alley…less brainpower.
The playlist carries on song by song, and I jam it out. A loud crash startles me causing my heart to pound out of my chest. I leap to my feet while Pedro flies into the air. A muffled noise and then footsteps grow closer to me. I shake with fear. The thought of a break-in or a robbery has never dawned on me. I mean who in the fuck holds up an automotive shop.
All I have to offer is my vagina, Pedro, and my running piece of shit car. I’m fucking dead toast. I scan the office for a weapon to defend myself. A pen, um nope won’t get far with that bastard. My coffee cup, I’d probably only spill cool coffee on my shirt.
The stapler. I grab the badass stapler willing it to turn into a machine gun when the sound grows louder and closer. I flip the bitch open, armed ready to fire it into the eyes of the intruder.
“C’mon, baby. Let your aim be dead on and your force vicious.”
The silhouette of the intruder fills the doorframe, and I quake in fear.
“Freeze, motherfucker,” I shout out, aiming the stapler at the person. “One more step and I will shoot.”
The person holds his hands up and then laughs.
“Stand back,” I scream, tightening my grip around the stapler.
My palms are sweaty and heart thundering out of my chest.
“Scout.”
My vision focuses when Diesel steps into the office out of the late afternoon shadow with his hands raised and a fucking smile on his face.
“Christ almighty. You scared the shit out of me.” I clutch my chest with one hand. “I almost shot you.”
He slowly drops his hands. “With a stapler, Scout.”
“I could’ve shot your eye out.”
This brings out the full laughter. Diesel hunches over unable to stop himself.
“It’s not funny, ass.” I toss the stapler on the desk. “I didn’t hear your car.”
He wipes the tears away from under his eyes. “You thought a stapler would save you?”
“Because I carry my machete to work, jackass.”
“Watch.” He picks up the stapler, aiming it at the wall, and pushes it.
The damn staple barely tumbles from it.
“That’s not the point.” I raise my eyebrow. “And why the fuck did you clatter in here scaring the shit out of me.”
He pulls me into him. “It’s been the shittiest afternoon until I was assaulted with an office stapler.”
“Stop.” I slap his chest.
“Ran out of gas a few blocks back, carried the most expensive parts back, and then ate shit when I entered the garage.”
“That was the loud noise.” I reach up and stroke his face. “Boss is gone for the next couple hours, but he also said you’d be gone for a bit too.”
“The guy met me halfway.” He clutches my ass. “I know the parts vendor isn’t meeting the boss halfway.”
“Office fuck?” I ask.
“Your dirty mouth makes me hard as fuck, Scout.”
“I’ll need to verify that.” I sink to my knees and flick open his jeans.
His zipper flies down easily. I lick my lips while pulling him from his boxers. Sure as shit, he’s hard from my dirty mouth. I dart my tongue out lapping the underside of his dick and smile when Diesel shudders.
This is a first for us. We typically get too frenzied when it comes to sexy times between us. Even though he’s put his face in the magic place several times, so I guess it’s time for a bit of payback. I’m careful not to pay any attention to his crown while devouring the rest of him.
When I have no more self-constraint, I take him whole in my mouth sucking him from base to tip. I vary the suction and add teeth. Diesel’s hands wind in my hair keeping the movement steady. The first dabbles of pre-cum hit my taste buds sending me into overdrive fast and hard. This is everything.
“Scout, stop.” He tries to push me off him, but I ignore him.
My tongue continues to swirl around his silky, steel shaft while I continue to take him. My fingernails dig into the front of his jean clad thighs. They flex under my touch only fueling my drive to devour this man whole.
“Stop,” he roars this time, pulling me up to his chest.
My short white shorts are pulled down in one fast movement. Then I’m whirled around and bent over the desk. He slides my lacy, white thong to the side and then pushes hard and deep into me. I can’t help but scream out with the sensation of being filled.
He moves fast, pounding over and over. My chest is pressed against the desk. It’s painful, but the overpowering thrill of him slamming into me makes everything else disappear.
“So, close,” he hisses out. “So, fucking close, baby.”
His finger finds my clit. It only takes a few massaging movements before I explode screaming out his name.
“Say it again,” he demands, pushing harder into me.
“Diesel,” I chant out his name over and over again climbing back down from my release.
His hot release fills me. Diesel growls low and profound while my pussy milks his cock for each drop of his rainbow juice.
“That was just rude.” I slap the top of the desk. “I wanted to taste you.”
Diesel whirls me around to face him then grabs my fingers. I’m paralyzed as he pulls them down to my entrance. He runs them through my wet pussy soaking up our releases and then brings them to my lips with a quirked eyebrow.
The hottest fucking thing that has ever happened to me. I pop open my mouth ready to taste us. He inserts them slowly rubbing them along my lips and then to the tip of my tongue.
Diesel pulls his fingers back, and before I have chance to taste him, he crashes his lips on mine. Our tongues fight to lap up the taste. My hips continue to buck into his needing more and now.
He bites down on my bottom lip when we’ve devoured the taste between us. “G
reedy, greedy girl.”
“Shut up and fuck me again.” I reach down groping his hard dick.
Chapter 11
I need to tell Diesel about Olivia’s reservations, but the time spent with him is too sweet. I need to deal with this like a big girl and put on my big girl panties. Olivia will just have to deal with it. I have three days left to convince myself of the fact.
“Where are we going?” I ask for the third time.
Diesel just stares straight ahead at the road in front of him. He looks damn sexy driving my girl. It was the deal we made since he wouldn’t tell me where in the hell we were going. He wasn’t impressed, but I also wasn’t about to budge.
“Fine. Don’t answer me, but just know you look damn good driving my Bonnie,” I reach over and lace my fingers in his.
“You weren’t lying when you said you hated surprises.” He glances over at me.
His sexy sunglasses make it impossible to see his gorgeous eyes.
“You know me. I’m a bit of a control freak. You know the ring leader. The natural badass.”
Diesel only laughs at me, cranks up the radio, and begins singing the song that’s playing. It’s the Joker by The Steve Miller Band. I could get lost in his damn voice. He sang all the time and shared with me that music and fixing cars are his type of therapy to get through life.
He’s never brought up his mom or her death, but the fact she shared her love of music with him. Told me she was always singing around the house and they use to even perform together at a little coffee shop in their town. I’m not quiet very often, but when this man sings with his deep, gravely voice, I can’t do anything, but listen.
I read the signs as we pull into the local farmer’s market. A thrill of excitement races through me. I’ve never been since it’s not my gig at all. But the thought of wandering the market hand in hand with Diesel makes me feel all gooey and fluffy.
“Surprise!” Diesel finally breaks from the song. “Date at the farmer’s market. We can buy stuff to make dinner.”
“Ahhh. You’re sexy, badass, and mushy. I think I’m in love.”