Then I’ll know exactly where you are, and when the time is right, we’ll get back to what we started.
“Thanks.” She shifts on the couch, and I zero in on her long, tan legs peeking out of my shorts.
Not good, so I push off the couch before I reach over and stroke those beautiful thighs. Anything to quiet the dirty thoughts slithering through my brain, especially since I just told her she was safe here. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket.” I head for the bedroom before all my promises end up with me throwing her over my shoulder, dropping her on my bed, and getting deep in her body till morning.
I return and lay an extra pillow and a blanket on the couch. “I’m beat.”
She motions to the couch. “Thanks for this.”
“No problem.” My cock picked that time to give an angry twitch.
“Ohhh, and happy birthday.”
“Technically, my birthday’s over, but thanks.” Then I spin around and head for my bedroom alone.
I strip off my clothes, then concentrate on pulling down the bedsheets and brushing my teeth. Typical shit I do every damn night, except tonight, I got a hotter-than-hell woman in my living room who I basically promised I wouldn’t touch.
Fucked-up, even for me.
I eye the shower, and, yeah, a cold shower is what I need, but since I hate cold water, I’d make it a lukewarm shower, then jerk myself off. If I didn’t, I’d never get to sleep.
CHAPTER 6
MARTINA
Diesel’s couch is super wide and quite comfortable. Once I lie down, my whole body relaxes for the first time in over twenty-four hours. I gather the blanket around me and try to get comfortable, but I have to pee. I lie there for a few more minutes, trying to put it out of my mind, but it’s no use. I have to go now.
I push back the fuzzy blanket, and the chill of the air conditioner makes me shiver. Apparently, Diesel likes his apartment at sub-zero temperatures. Although I didn’t get a tour, I assume the bathroom is in the hall, and thankfully, I’m right.
I hear water running from his room and assume he’s taking a shower, but I put that visual out of my mind. As I do my business, I do a quick play-by-play of the past twenty-four hours, and I don’t think I missed one red flag.
Running away from the cartel holding me hostage. Seeking refuge in a strip club, where I find out my deadbeat brother does business. Getting up on stage in said strip club and strutting around in a G-string and five-inch stilettos.
Then, for the grand finale, I almost hook up with a notoriousbiker, but end up on his couch while he’s only about ten feet away.
Complicated, even for me.
When I exit the bathroom, the shower is still running, and his bedroom door is half opened. I take three steps toward the door and stop. What am I doing? I made a huge deal out of him not attacking me, and now I’m going to spy on him in his own bedroom? Double standard in reverse. I turn away from his bedroom door and head for the living room, content in the fact I’m doing the right thing.
Oh shit, who am I kidding?
I spin around, ease down the short hall and stand just outside the door. Definitely the shower. From where I’m standing, I can see most of his room. Huge unmade bed against the far wall. So big, it must be custom-made. The clothes he had on before are strewn over a chair, along with his holster.
I caught a glimpse of it under his cut when we were downstairs, but seeing it on full display puts everything in perspective. The man runs with outlaws and is an outlaw himself. Maybe not even too different from the people Eduardo deals with, only playing for the other side.
Chances are Diesel’s already in the shower, and, yes, I should definitely head back to the living room and snuggle under the blanket, but risk-taker here.
I peek around the door, and the mirror over the bathroom sink gives me a perfect reflection of Diesel in his glass-enclosed shower. I bite hard on my lower lip as he dips his head under the stream of water, then soaps himself. Clothed, the man is perfection, but buck-ass naked—shit and goddamn!
Even him squirting soap into his palm is erotic, but then his hand lowers to his—oh my God—thick, rigid cock, and my mouth drops open. His large hand barely surrounds his thickness, and I know I’ve never seen a man so well equipped. I sawthe bulge in his jeans, but this is more—way more. Probably knocking one out ‘cause he didn’t get sex tonight—on his birthday.
I watch in awe as he braces one hand against the tile wall while he strokes his cock with the other. Harder, faster, and I can’t help wondering if he’s thinking of me. ‘Cause I sure as shit am thinking of him as I sneak my hand inside the oversized shorts and find my swollen clit. My body keeps pace with his movements.
I grip the doorknob tighter, my heart speeds up, and I drive my finger deeper, keeping time with Diesel’s strokes while envisioning him taking me from behind.
I can’t pull my eyes away from him, totally mesmerized by the sight of him, raw, real, and out-of-control. If this is him jerking himself off, what kind of emotion would he display with real sex?
Diesel throws his head back on a shout, and my body contracts, then releases again. My knees buckle, my hand slips from the knob, and I hit my head on the door frame.
