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DIESEL DADDY

Page 44

by Naomi West


  But I wanted more than that. And so did Tank.

  He slipped his hands into my pants, his fingers barely fitting under the tight fabric. I helped him out by undoing my button and zipper, and once they were undone, he yanked my pants and panties off with a hard, firm tug. I did the same to him, getting his pants and underwear off and his incredible cock into my hand as fast as possible. I stroked him as we kissed more, and my body tingled as he moved his hand up my thigh right to where I wanted it. I sighed and moaned as he slipped his finger into me. Goddamn, it felt good.

  We continued like this for a time, and I savored both the feeling of his thick, stone-solid prick in my hands and his fingers as they moved in and out of me. When I couldn’t take anymore teasing, a strange bold streak came over me. Instead of letting Tank take control, I wanted to be in the driver’s seat. Taking my hand off his cock, I placed my palms on his smooth, firm chest and gently guided him onto his back until he lay against the blanket. Then I moved on top of him, straddling him, his cock pointed straight up towards me. A sly little smirk formed on his lips when he realized what I had in mind.

  Grabbing his prick, I pointed it straight up as I lowered myself slowly onto it. My face tightened into a wince as I did so; I almost felt as though I were being split in half by him. But his stimulation had made me extra wet—necessary for a cock his size. Once I fully lowered myself onto him, enveloping him in me totally, I took in a deep breath of total pleasure.

  But I didn’t want to waste any time in getting right down to it. I began rocking my hips back and forth, letting Tank’s prick move inside of me. I loved having the feeling of total control over his cock, and I quickly learned how to move to get his thick member to stimulate just where I wanted it to. Tank grabbed my hips, squeezing my curves as I bucked on top of him. One hand of his moved up along my side, coming to a rest on my breast.

  Soon, I need more. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the ground to the left and right of Tank’s head. My breasts hung right over his face, and he took full advantage of this by licking and sucking my nipples. In this position, I began to buck hard, slamming my hips onto him over and over again, the soft sounds of flesh on flesh filling the air.

  I knew right away that this technique was going to lead to an orgasm very quickly. Tank moved his hands to my rear, squeezing my ass and pulling me towards him so that my movements did for him what he wanted. I moaned and shrieked, the pleasure running hard through my body. Looking down at Tank, I saw that his face was tightened into a fierce look of concentration. His eyes were fixed on my body, and a sheen of sweat formed on his brow.

  I rode him harder and harder, the pace building to a fevered pitch. Soon, my orgasm arrived, the pleasure rushing through my body with an intensity that was almost unbearable. I rode him hard through the orgasm and, his hands gripping my hips hard, Tank came soon after. I continued to cum as he sprayed himself into me, and by the time it was over, I was spent. I collapsed onto his chest, soon falling in a blissed-out trance to the rhythm of his breathing.

  But as we lay like this for a time, I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d gone to this trouble. Why had he taken me up here? Just to be nice? He seemed to be softening towards me, but something was odd about this. I considered the possibility that there was something going on in his life that he was trying to distract himself from, and he’d figured a night of pleasure with me was the best way to do it.

  “What’s the deal with this?” asked Tank, lifting the dove of my necklace with his fingertips and letting it drop. “You wear this thing all the damn time.”

  “It’s … something my grandmother gave me,” I said, trying to find the words. “After I lost my house it was all I had left of her. She loved doves. Thought they were ‘the only pure animal left in this word’—her words.”

  This was strange; Tank never seemed to take an interest in me like this before.

  “Probably thought way about you, too,” said Tank.

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Tank was showing me a side that was totally unlike the gruff shield that he always had up. Was I finally seeing the real him?

  I reminded myself that this would all be in the past, however. Soon, I’d make my escape and leave all of this behind. But as I lay there with Tank, the city sprawled out before us, I asked myself if leaving this behind was really what I wanted.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Star

  It was the next day, and Tank was gone. He didn’t say where he was going, only that he’d be gone until late.

  I knew that this was my chance to leave.

  I plotted out my escape once again, figuring that if I left at around noon I’d be able to make it to the nearby town by mid-afternoon. Then I could find a ride towards Gainesville, and then … I didn’t know. I didn’t have any money, and I’d be in just as bad of a spot as I’d been before all of this insanity happened. But at least I’d be free; that was all that mattered.

  I stuffed a few things into a little duffel bag that I’d found in one of the drawers—mostly clothes, along with some food from the kitchen and a few bottles of water. I briefly considered taking a few valuable-looking things from Tank’s house, just some things I could sell to make a little money. But I just couldn’t do it. Grandma Dove had done her best to make sure I had a good moral spine to me, and even though Tank had kept me here against my will, he’d treated me fine for the most part. Besides, I still felt raw about leaving that check at the diner unpaid, even knowing that Tank had covered it. Stealing just wasn’t in my nature.

  So, bag ready and phone map pulled up, I set off. The fence was a little rough to climb, but I made it just fine. Taking one last look at Tank’s enormous estate, I turned to the road and started down it. From where I was walking I could see about a mile down, and not a car was to be seen. Still, I couldn’t take any chances. Pulling the map up on my phone, I headed down into the woods, close enough to the road that I could still see it, but far enough that anyone passing wouldn’t spot me.

  The woods were the humid, wet type you only see in Florida. Bugs abounded, and the low-hanging trees went on as far as I could see. Down deeper into the woods I could see the light reflecting off of the pools of water that were common in the Everglades. I stayed as close to solid ground as I could, knowing that gators were no joke here.

  After an hour and a half or so of walking, just like I’d planned, I arrived at the town—if you could even call it that. It was a rundown little smattering of buildings, and as I got closer I realized that it was more like a small settlement for loggers in the region. There was a small store, a couple of restaurants, and a few large apartment complexes. It looked like the type of collection of buildings you’d see in one of those little towns off of a major highway.

  I approached the diner, thinking about the last time I’d been in one of these. I didn’t feel up to dining and dashing, so I pulled out one of my granola bars and chomped it down. I had no way to get back to Gainesville other than by the good graces of these people here, so I took a deep breath and approached the nearest man I could find, which was some burly-looking, working-class guy filling up his truck at the gas station. He told me that he was here for the day, but there was usually a truck or two leaving and heading down the road, and that I might try my luck with one of them.

  Sure enough, one pulled into the restaurant parking lot. To my surprise, a stout woman wearing flannel, jeans, and work boots stepped out. I ran up to her, and I must’ve looked like a damn charity case because as soon as I asked for a ride she offered me not only that but a meal at the diner. I agreed, and I happily ate the eggs and bacon she bought for me. As we ate, she asked where I was coming from, and I the best I could come up with was that I had been out in the woods with some friends and they’d left me behind. It was a weak excuse, and the woman’s skeptical expression made it clear that she didn’t quite believe it. But she must’ve figured that my reasons were my own, which I was glad for; I wanted to get out of Tank’s place, but I didn�
�t want to turn him over to the cops.

  After our meal and a drive, I was back in Gainesville. And as soon as I stepped out of the truck the realization that I had nowhere to go hit me hard. Sure, I had known this when I escaped, but being confronted with the reality was something different altogether. I had no money, a few clothes, and I’d even ditched my phone back at the diner for fear that I could be tracked through it.

  I walked down one of the main roads in town for a while, and soon I came upon a familiar sight: the graveyard where Grandma Dove was buried. I decided that paying my respects was the least I could do. So, picking up a handful of wildflowers from the side of the road, I headed into the cemetery. It took me a few minutes to find Grandma’s tombstone, what with it being a humble little marker and nothing more. I sat in front of it, my mind awash with memories of simpler times, back when all I had to worry about was being on time for dinner. Part of me wished that Grandma had done more to prepare me for the real world, but I knew that her sheltering me was just her showing her love in the only way she knew.

  I sat there for a time, tears forming in my eyes as I thought about how much I missed Grandma. I set the flowers on the marker. It was a pretty humble arrangement, but Grandma would’ve liked it that way: she was a humble woman.

  Then I saw something that I never expected to see, not in a million years. A bird descended, landing right on Grandma Dove’s marker. And it wasn’t just any bird—it was a dove, the same kind of dove that dangled from my necklace. I wrapped my fingers around the necklace, holding it tight as the dove sat upon the stone. My heart skipped a beat. I remembered Grandma Dove telling me that this breed of dove was particularly rare, especially in this part of the country. But sure enough, as I held the dove on my necklace up to the real one, I saw that they were one and the same. The dove even had the small streak of pink on top of its head, just like my necklace.

  Then, just as quickly it had arrived, the dove left. And as soon as it was gone, I heard the revving of an engine, that sharp snarl that you only hear from motorcycles. And I’ll be damned if my heart didn’t fill with gladness at the thought of it being Tank. I stood up and turned to face the road. It was a bike, but I could tell from where I stood that it wasn’t Tank.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I wondered. I just ran away from this guy and now I’m hoping he shows up to find me?

  I turned my attention back to Grandma’s grave. The dove, the motorcycle … it was strange. I wasn’t normally the superstitious type, but some part of me felt as though I’d received a sign.

  What if I was meant to be back with Tank? It was a crazy idea, but it hadn’t just been in my imagination that he’d been … softening, almost, towards me. Almost as if I was finally getting past that hard front that he felt the need to always have up. But maybe that was all in my head. I kissed my fingertips and touched Grandma’s grave one last time, wondering what she would think I should do.

  “Just listen to your heart,” she’d say—I could hear it in my mind clear as day. But what was I supposed to do when my heart was pulling me in two different directions? Towards freedom on the one hand, and the potential of love on the other?

  I knew that I had to make a decision. Returning to the street, I walked until I reached a crossroads. One direction or the other—it was up to me to decide, and me alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tank

  I knew something was wrong the second I pulled up to the house. Bringing my bike to a stop and getting off, I looked at the front of the house for any sign that something was off. Things looked normal, but I had the weirdest goddamn feeling in my gut.

  I walked through the front doors, the first thing I noticed being the lack of scent in the air. Star’d been putting that kitchen to good use, and I’d been lucky enough to come home to a home-cooked meal just about every day since she’d been here.

  But now, there was nothing.

  I went to the kitchen. The light was off, and the countertops were spotless.

  Something was up.

  “Star?” I called out, my voice echoing through the house.

  Nothing.

  “Star? You here?”

  Still, nothing.

  I checked the backyard, then the lounge, a hot feeling forming in my stomach as I did. No one out there, either. Next, I went up upstairs, knowing that if she wasn’t in her bedroom she wasn’t there at all. Throwing open the bedroom door, my suspicions were confirmed: she was gone.

  The room was a mess, and clothes were here and there. It looked pretty clear to me that she’d packed up some clothes in a hurry and made a break for it.

  Goddamn stupid girl, I thought. No idea how dangerous it is just to wander out into those woods.

  It was hard for me to describe how I felt when I realized that Star had gone. Betrayed—that was the first emotion. Betrayal gripped me hard; it felt like hot fingers around my heart. I don’t know why, exactly, that was the first feeling that I felt. After all, Star was property, basically a living fuck-doll that I’d bought for a goddamn pretty penny. Right? I mean, I should’ve felt frustrated more than anything, like if one of my TVs had sprouted a pair of legs and walked off.

  That was how I know I should’ve felt, at least. In reality, it was the betrayal. I felt like someone who I had … I dunno, trusted, had done me dirty. After all, I’d given her a good home here, kept her safe from Dakin, and … well, I’d even started getting used to her being around. I was starting to warm up to the idea of coming home to a home-cooked meal made by a woman with a smile that made me feel … some kind of way.

  I scolded myself as I paced around my house. That was some lovey-dovey shit, I told myself. Not the kind of way the leader of an MC should be feeling.

  But I couldn’t help it. I felt like I’d been abandoned, almost. The reality of the situation was that all this time this girl had been doing nothing more than playing me for a chance to leave. Every smile, every kind word, even those damn meals, they were all her way of getting me buttered up, making me let me guard down. Sure, I could’ve kept her locked in her bedroom—or worse, like some of those other guys did with their girls—but I wasn’t about that. I figured a happier woman would make for more pleasant company. Shows how fucking naïve I was.

  Before I could consider my feelings too deeply, however, I heard my phone buzz in the other room. Picking it up, I saw that it was Oslo.

  “What is it?” I asked, the frustration creeping into my voice.

  “Whoa, man—you good?” asked Oslo.

  I took a deep breath. I was fucking pissed, that was for goddamn sure, but I didn’t need to snap at my men over this kind of shit. That was a good way to get a reputation as an unreliable, unstable leader.

  “Yeah, man,” I said, evening the tone of my voice. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Dakin,” he said.

  Shit.

  I’d gotten so pissed about Star that I’d forgotten we were on the brink of war with Dakin and his men. That made Star’s leaving extra fucking infuriating. I hadn’t been planning on using her as the bargaining chip that Dakin wanted, but how the fuck was I going to convince him that she’d actually left and that this wasn’t some kind of little trick that I was pulling? Dakin didn’t exactly strike me as the kind of guy to believe something like this at face value. I’d have to do some convincing.

  “What about him?”

  “He wants to meet again,” said Oslo. “Wants to see if you’ve come to a decision.”

  Nothing to do but tell him the truth and hope he believed me.

  “Tell him that there’s been a … complication, and that we need to meet ASAP.”

  “That doesn’t sound good, boss,” said Oslo. “What kind of complication?”

  “I’ll let you and the boys know when I get there. Meet at The Winchester. I’ll be there in an hour.”

  As soon as I hung up I wanted to throw the goddamn phone across the room. Instead, I took a series of long, deep breaths, trying to get my mind right. I th
ought about where Star might’ve gone off to. She might’ve hitchhiked, but she was probably smart enough to not walk down the main road. After all, that’s how I got to the house; she wouldn’t risk me finding her like that.

  I remembered the little town in the woods a few miles down the way. She’d likely seen it at some point and figured that’d be her best bet. I didn’t have too much time to look around for her, but it was on the way. After I got my shit together, I got on my bike and headed down that way, reaching the town in about ten minutes. I asked around, asking if anyone’d seen a little blonde girl in the last day, but no one had. Place was full of truckers coming and going, so she’d probably hitched a ride with one of them back to Gainesville.

  No time to search the city—I’d need the whole crew for an operation like that. No option but to meet up with Dakin and give it to him straight, and hope that he didn’t fly too far off the handle.

  I met up with the boys at The Winchester, and they were all eager to hear if war was actually going to happen. The way they squirmed in their seats made it clear that more than a few of them were itching to do some dirty work. It’d been a while since our last little scrap, and they were hungry for a fight.

 

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