Gently, he placed me in the tub. Before he could walk away, I grabbed his wrist closest to me. His whole arm had a tattoo sleeve so I was grabbing some part of the intricate artwork.
“Join me,” I whispered. “I need to know you’ve forgiven me.”
He touched my cheek with his other hand. “There’s nothing to forgive, chérie, you were merely being honest with how you felt at the time.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No . . . I wasn’t. I needed you to reject me now rather than later.”
“Why would I let go of my beautiful angel who has changed my life? If it were up to me, you’d stay here with me forever and never leave.” His slight smile disappeared. “Too many secrets and family bullshit though. I think you’re strong so you would be able to deal with it for a while but sooner or later, you’d want to return to your old life.”
My eyes widened as he joined me in the tub. I climbed on his lap, not for sex but to reassure him I wasn’t that shallow. “You don’t know my life at home. It’s very confining and rigid. I’m an adult—I should be able to do what I want, and make my own decisions on how I want to live my life.”
Diablo laughed out loud before he kissed my lips. “So, you’re all grown up at twenty-three years . . . and you know everything? I’ll be twenty-nine next May on the twenty-second and believe me I’m not that much wiser than I was when I was your age. We’re doomed, my love. Too much . . . class, culture and history separates us. I wish to God you were meant for me—if I believed in Him—I would give you my heart now but it makes no difference if all I am is a novelty for you to enjoy, and then toss away when you get bored.”
“You truly believe I’d be that heartless and cruel?” I slid off his lap and dipped my hair in the water to get it wet and any strands out of my face. “That isn’t me. If you tell me Sorsha did this to you, I’ll give you a black eye myself.”
Diablo burst out laughing. “You Americans have no sense of humor. And no, Sorsha didn’t do shit to me. My relationship with women is very complicated but started when the love of my life killed herself. It was a long time ago and more people die here in this country from suicide than homicide. It just is . . .”
“How old were you?” I wondered as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“She was sixteen and I was seventeen. We both went to the same lycée and her father was a member of my dad’s MC. Her pops and mine weren’t getting along. He jumped ship before my dad realized he was stealing money and drugs. We still went out in secret and acted like nothing happened but something did.”
His face changed and his eyes darkened as he gritted his teeth so tightly, his jaw flexed. “Sonia became pregnant. At this time, her dad was trying to get her hooked up with an old man so he could get closer into his new club. The Prez’s son seemed like a perfect fit. However they never slept together in enough time to explain her pregnancy. Remy refused to cover for her and her father threatened to kill her himself if she didn’t get an abortion. She was four months . . . she couldn’t.”
I laid my wet hair on his shoulder. “What happened?”
“She couldn’t choose so she drew a warm bath and sliced her carotid arteries in her thighs. She didn’t think she was bleeding enough or fast enough so she finished the job with a slice across her jugular vein.” Diablo breathed out loud. “She actually drowned and with the blood loss—there was nothing that could be done but she decided if she had to kill our baby, she would kill herself too.”
“Was that your one and only chance to have a child?”
“Yes and no.” He grabbed my hands and held them in his own. “The great Adrien ‘Diablo’ Bissette has a low sperm count that makes it extra difficult for me to get someone pregnant. Unknown causes according to every doctor I’ve seen. It’s not drug or alcohol related and tobacco has nothing to do with either. They simply don’t know what caused it, and at this time, there is fuck all I can do about it. So, yeah . . . maybe it might happen one day but the doc says my odds aren’t that great, not without preemptive measures. I’m not growing my kid in a fucking petri dish. If I can’t have a kid the normal way then it wasn’t meant to be.”
“You wouldn’t even do it for me?” I begged as my heart thundered inside my chest. “I mean . . . if everything did work out and I wanted a baby—”
“No because I don’t think a baby is worth losing my wife to cancer later down the line. All that shit is poisonous—hormones cause cancer. I’d rather have you for the rest of my life than put you through all that shit. If you wanted a baby that much, I wouldn’t say no to you sleeping with Damien while you’re ovulating. The child would still be a family relative. And we could still raise it as our own. But no In vitro fertilization.”
“So, you’d be comfortable enough for me to fuck your brother for a baby but you are against IVF?”
“My brother can’t give you cancer. Plus the chances of you falling in love with him are next to nil. He’s not the most pleasant person but he would do it.” Diablo turned my face toward him. “Not all sex is pleasurable. All he has to do is put his cock inside your cunt for a few moments. Maybe it’d take five or ten minutes. It wouldn’t be like when you and I make love. No fellatio, no cunninglingus—just sexual organs meeting up in a quick and business-like situation. He comes inside you, you hold your legs up for another five or ten minutes and voila, chérie, it’s finished.”
“But he would see me naked—”
“Says who? We’re going full Hasidic Jewish on this thing if it were to happen. He will see no part of your body. There will be a hole in a sheet and neither one of you will touch, ever. Only the parts that count.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his sense of humor before I settled down and looked into his eyes. “I’m hoping that never has to happen.”
He kissed the side of my forehead. “Not as much as I’m hoping whatever we have will be enough . . . even if we can’t have children.”
TWO DAYS WASN’T nearly long enough with someone you found yourself developing strong feelings for.
Diablo and I turned out not to be all that different and we enjoyed spending time together cooking, watching Blu-ray films, eating and fucking our brains out. It went by so fast, before I knew it, I was embracing him as his hired limo waited downstairs for him.
“This really sucks.” I breathed in his cologne and deep masculine scent. “Hell, I can’t even depend on the girls because they’re going with you.”
“Last chance to change your mind,” he teased.
“Nah, I just want to be here and veg out. You know, explore the markets and the shopping on Champs-Élysées. The break will be good for me.”
“How is that, exactly?” Diablo took a step back.
“I’m not ready to share this.” I indicated with my hands between him and me. “Not with my friends. It’s not just some . . . easy hookup and I don’t want anyone to treat us like it is. I don’t want Angie or Lizzy—or hell, even your band mates—to ever question why I am with you. If they can’t think it’s surpassed . . . something more than a great fuck . . . then we don’t want or need their support.”
I moved closer to him before my mouth immediately met his and we kissed passionately with plenty of tongue. “Are you absolutely positive you don’t want to go? It’s going to be hell without seeing you.”
“It’s only for about a week, Adrien. Most men tend to enjoy a nice whack off in the shower when they’re without their significant others—”
“Is that how you are describing us?”
I bit his right ear gently. “Yup and the ‘L’ or ‘A’ word will not make an appearance until we know for sure.”
“So, I can’t say Je t’aime but what if I said J’adore toi?” He smirked at me knowing that the line between the phrases was wafer thin but I couldn’t help but to go along with his plan.
“Fine. J’adore toi aussi. But I do believe we’ll have to go through a few more . . . trials and tribulations before we really know how we feel
about one another.”
“You Americans—everything has to be so fucking hard, and love has to be some crazy battlefield with land mines everywhere. Can’t two people just fall for one another, have fun and know that what they feel is innately right?”
“You French invented the term complicated. There is no way nothing will not go wrong—sorry. Neither you nor I have that kind of luck.”
Diablo looked down and took out his Samsung as his phone began to ring. “Shit, it’s Damien. He must know I haven’t left yet.” He swiped the call directly to voicemail before he grabbed me by my face again. “If you have any issues what so ever, call me. I left you a little present in the kitchen. I added you to my plan and yes, I got you one of those tacky iPhones since I thought you might enjoy it better or something in some color called rose gold. Anyway, my number, along with your friends’ numbers, are already programed. I don’t care how small the problem is, call me or text me if it gets sent to voicemail, okay?”
I nodded and kissed his lips again. “You didn’t have to do that—”
“Stop trying to be a fucking feminist and accept the phone. I know you are a strong woman but many times, you need to be quiet and just let me take the lead, okay?”
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Fine. Go . . . before I make you stay here with me.”
He walked toward the door before he stopped, turned around and strode to me. The feel of his lips on my own, his tongue caressing mine, and the sensual way he owned my mouth was almost too much to take. He finally pulled away before delivering several more kisses.
We stared into one another’s eyes; his were so blue they rivaled some gorgeous local in a Caribbean paradise. “J'adore toi et tu me manques déjà.”
“Moi aussi mais je vais aussi manquer cette bite.”
“Such a proper American woman with a mouth like a damn sailor. No worries, when I get back, I am going to fuck you so hard with my cock that you won’t be able to move for a while.”
I laughed out loud as I watched him go.
The moment I could hear him stepping away from the apartment, something inside me told me to run after him. Why were we staying apart? Because I was a complete coward who convinced myself what we shared wasn’t real? It wasn’t a good enough decision to be away from Adrien or my friends.
Sadness crept over me as I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the iPhone he’d bought for me. It was fully charged and although it was slightly bigger than my Samsung, I wish he’d given me a choice. I loved MacBook Pros, iPods and iPads but I never got the whole hoopla over the iPhone.
I refused to look a gift horse in the mouth and walked into the living room with it, playing with the features. The phone was nice but it couldn’t replace Adrien, and I suppose that’s why I couldn’t even pretend to jump up and down about a product I’d gotten before it had been commercially released to the general public yet.
NO MATTER HOW hard I tried to put Sierra out of my mind, I couldn’t.
I was the one who always enjoyed the novelty of riding on a tour bus with my bros and reminiscing about the days when we first were starting out, playing crappy bars and barely making ends meet had it not been for the club.
However, the only person remotely on my mind was the woman I’d left back in my apartment. It wasn’t a question of whether I feared for her safety—Sierra wasn’t a “babe in the woods” type and could definitely take care of herself. I was so fucking frightened of my own feelings and where the fuck “we” were going that I didn’t turn around and beg her to come with me. I should have but there was still a bit of the coward, Adrien, left in the body of Diablo after all and he disgusted me.
I tried to calm down by writing a new song for the album. That was always a good way to take my mind off my issues. My phone rang and I grabbed it with a certain childish glee I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Bonjour, ma chérie. Ça va?”
“You should really check your caller ID, my black-eyed boy.”
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply into the phone. How much more fucked up could this day get after leaving the warming embrace of Sierra?
“Sorsha, what do you want?”
“I don’t know . . . I just wanted to get some shit off me shoulder since you didn’t give me a chance at a fuckin’ retort the day you kissed my arse bye-bye.”
I knew by the tone of her voice she was drunk and probably high. This wasn’t going to end well.
“I thought you were over me. Didn’t I see you and pop star Brian Kinder all over each other like cheap suits in Corsica? He had all his junk out for everyone to see what a scrappy young guy he is for having such a massive cock. Looks like you’re not missing me much.”
Sorsha laughed out loud. “It wasn’t Corsica, you twat—it was the South of France on a private boat, and so what if we were together? That would make us fuck buddies. Everyone thinks he’s still pining after that Sandra Gutierrez but that’s not true—he’s just fucking all the girls he couldn’t get hold of when they dated.”
“Listen, seriously, I don’t give a fuck what you do, who you share your bed with or what’s goin’ on in your life.” I added “Dirty” to my tentative title of “Angel”.
“Well, you should.” She lit a cigarette on the other end of the phone. “I’d be chattin’ ya up on FaceTime but I see you’ve gotten rid of me on your contact list—”
“What is this conversation really about because I have better things to do than to spend my time talking to you? We dated for over two years—you fucked me, Damien, Zero—am I missing anyone else here?”
“Just a few dodgy guys I might have some use for in the future but that really isn’t your concern. What you should be worried about are the consequences of your actions. Did you really think I would let you off so easily? Everyone pays in this life, Adrien, and that includes you.”
“Fuck off Sorsha—go back to your little twenty-two year Canadian who probably has no idea how to use that big cock of his and leave me the fuck alone.”
Before she had a chance to respond, I ended the call and put it on silent.
I still felt like shit for leaving Sierra at my apartment alone but at least I had some inspiration for a song I swore I’d never write: an ex-lover revenge song. John Mayer, Taylor Swift, Ellie Goulding, Sandra Gutierrez, Ed Sheeran and Brian Kinder had that fucking market covered while light-weight pop-rock acts like Nickelback and One Republic had it down to a science. Not that I would ever knock Ryan Tedder’s artistic skills. The man could turn out a hit as fast as Max Martin, and his usually made more sense.
I had no choice now; I had to get Sorsha off my chest and out of my fucking head. This had nothing to do with residual feelings since it was kind of hard to miss someone you knew she had fucked your whole band. I threw Zero in for good measure because at least he’d been honest about his fuck up.
Sorsha never said a word about the night Tricky and Ziggy fucked her in every hole on her body and then taped that shit on Ziggy’s smart phone. I found the four-part, three hour and twenty-five minute video by accident on Ziggy’s laptop. Apparently, it was his wanking off video, and why not as they took turns shoving their cocks into her asshole, mouth, and pussy while she just smiled and laughed about it. It definitely proved how much she meant to me, getting fucked by my brothers who happened to be my best friends and band mates.
I sat on my bunk and words began to pour out of me. I was definitely hoping this one became a single because it would be a great one to rub in that bitch’s face.
I listened to the beat in my head before I came up with the bridge before the chorus.
I didn’t know exactly what the fuck I was doing but it felt good to get my feelings about her out on paper so I continued with the chorus.
“Whatcha doin’ man?” Zero interrupted before he snatched up the piece of paper and read it before whistling in a low tone. “This about that backstabbing cunt you dumped? You should go a little harsher with the second round. Maybe mention that threesome in
an underhanded way she had with Ziggy and Tricky.”
“I don’t know—”
“You know she didn’t make them wear condoms, right? Said she was tryin’ to get knocked up so you’d marry her. Guess you never told her about your condition?”
“No, after I found out about that, we started wearing condoms again unless she was giving me a blowjob.”
Zero snickered. “I woulda made her wear one then too.”
“Ohh, is someone so discriminatory about his partners? Especially when you’re supposed to be my sister’s old man someday.”
His ice blue eyes became serious as all joviality left. “Listen, you know how much I love Annalise. Lizzy and I—we’re just havin’ fun but she’s never been the town pump either, know what I mean? She’s clean, sweet, and she truly is a breath of sunshine. You know we just got into this major discussion about the different bands that really had an effect on our music and she could name them all? She’s no dumb blonde—that’s for sure.”
“Just remember who you are betrothed to,” I said in a pseudo arrogant voice.
“Bro, just finish the lyrics to that fuckin’ song man. I got some major riffs that would flow. Hell, if you finish it in time, we can practice it in Nice. That should be fun!”
Zero walked away and I did indeed finish up the last lyrics to the song.
The song was pretty good, especially with bridge and the chorus. Was it as wonderful as being inside of Sierra? Fuck no but since I lacked the balls to just ask her to accompany me to Nice, it was my own sorry fault.
I wanted to rest but I also needed to talk Sierra. Funny, we hadn’t been in each other’s lives that long but I knew whatever I felt for her went beyond great sex. We enjoyed each other’s company and no one had to tell me she was a “Ride or Die”—I knew that from the few men she’d dated in the past. Although they lacked in so many areas, she stayed by their side until they dumped her.
Sympathy For Diablo (Breathless Eternity #1) Page 12