Page 2 of Diesel

“Yeah. So, assholes like your father and that little bitch you were dating, they’re nothing. Brainless douchebags chasing green. And my last name? Usher?”

“Like the singer?” she asked.

I shook my head and laid my hand softly against her face. “You’ve heard of Roderick Usher?”

Gigi nodded. “He’s a fictional character. He’s not real.”

“That’s where most people are wrong. The story was based on actual people. Roderick Usher was my great-great-great-grandfather.”

“That can’t be.” Gigi pulled away. “Stop with the bullshit.”

“I have the letters to prove it. Letters from Roderick himself passed down from one generation to the next.” I leaned against the Mustang. “The man was a recluse, though he obviously got out and fucked around a little.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never told anyone about my history. Nobody asks, and I don’t tell.”

“But why me?”

“Because I need to tell someone. I have no family to talk with.” I walked away for a moment. “Something in that bloodline makes me the way I am.”

“Which is a caring man,” Gigi said.

“No. I’m not a caring man. There’s something inside me trying to get out. I’m trying to figure out how not to let that happen.”

“You think whatever it is came from the Usher past,” Gigi said. She slid off the car and moved her arms around my waist. “The club doesn’t know?”

“It’s some deep shit, G. These guys aren’t into shit like that. I like the violence, bikes, the smell of oil, and beating the shit out of people, but I need something deeper to go along with it.”

“I’ll help you. I promise. I want to know more.”

“I thought you would,” I said. “That’s why I wanted you.”

“I thought it was my nice ass and tits.”

I shared a wry smile. “There’s that, too.” I put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the clubhouse. We grabbed beers from Trixie at the bar and headed down the hall to a spare bedroom.

“He won’t let this go,” Gigi said. “My father’s a very persistent man. He’s already made a phone call to one of his friends. I guarantee it.”

“The club will take care of its own.” I opened the bedroom door. “Feds and locals have tried for years to shut this club down. Nothing has or ever will work.”

“Could he prevent you from becoming a club member if he does something stupid?”

“Beast said they were moving my full patch vote to next week. I’ve proven myself to the Executive Committee. They know where my loyalty stands. Your father can’t do shit.” I held Gigi close. “Tonight, you chose to stay here. You will have to choose between him and me at some point. Every old lady goes through this.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” She picked at a fingernail and then caught my eyes. In the dim light, she appeared movie-star seductive. “I have one request.”

“I won’t hurt your father.”

“Thank you.”

Fuck, her eyes were to die for. I closed the door and moved her back toward the bed, removing kutte and tee, keeping sight of her tits, thick lips, and smooth neck. I playfully wagged a finger. “The last time we fucked, I let you off easy, G.”

“Is that right? You sound like a man on a mission.” Her calves hit the bed, and she stopped, her demanding lips quivering. I held her chin in my hand, her fuck me green eyes provocative, steady, and waiting. Not every woman I met was ready for a man like me, but Gigi was meant for this moment.

I raised her blouse over her head and tossed it to the floor. She shifted her head toward the blouse, and I moved it back, hand firmly under her chin. Her generous lips tightened. She understood what was coming. I released her bra with one hand, and she shrugged from the satin entrapment. It dropped next to the blouse.

“Tell me, Gigi, are you ready to be fucked relentlessly, skillfully, and like an animal in the wild.”

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