Page 126 of Diesel's Perseverance
“After they get some of the ribs the ol’ ladies made for the party. You hungry?”
“Nah. Go ahead. I’ll just hang by the bar.”
As Diesel leaned against the counter, listening to Immortal Sÿnn over the Bose speakers, he thought of Myla. The funny thing was that he’d been thinking about buying some land and building a house for them. It was an idea that had been niggling in the back of his mind since they’d returned from San Diego. He hadn’t been sure she’d go for it, but after saying she wanted her own pad, he was cool with that if it included him.
Diesel had never felt anything like he did with Myla. The one thing he knew was that Myla filled up a deep void inside him that had been gnawing at him for the past six months or so. He also knew he wanted their lives to stretch into forever, to be so entangled that there’d be no separating them. Hell, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was on his mind when he first woke up in the morning when he showered, and when he was at work—even at the damn grocery store buying some shit to eat, he’d wonder what she’d like. She’d become his everything, and he was more than okay with that.
“Demon said he’ll be ready in about an hour. He wants to see the show Nina, Wendy, and Tania are gonna put on. His cock’s already hard just thinking about it.” Smokey laughed then took a chunk out of a barbecue rib.
Suddenly, Diesel didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be with Myla. He wanted her on the back of his bike, hugging him and never letting him go.
“Sorry, dude. I can’t make it.”
“What the fuck does that mean? What else do you have going?”
“Myla.”
“I fuckin’ knew it! Rags!” Smokey turned his head around, searching for the biker.
“He’s not gonna hear you, dude. It’s loud as hell in here. Why don’t you get him to partner with you?”
“He’s not as good a player as you. I want that dough, brother.”
“Then get Muerto. I heard he’s really gotten skilled since hitching with his ol’ lady.”
“Yeah, you’re right. She’s the pool shark. Fuck, I gotta go get him before someone else does. See ya.”
Diesel watched Smokey disappear into the crowd. He threw back the rest of his drink and then headed up the staircase.
When he entered the room, Myla looked up from her book and smiled at him—a warm, sexy smile. The corner of his mouth lifted as he took in her long dark hair, her killer green eyes, and how just looking at her was a kick to the gutandthe groin.
“Did you forget something?” she said.
“Yeah… you.”
“I told you I didn’t—”
“I’m taking you for dinner and a ride.”
Her face flushed and her orbs sparkled with excitement. “What about the party?”
“There’re always gonna be parties. I want to spend time with you. Close your book and get ready.”
She stood and hurried to the closet, delving inside. He heard the squeak and scrape of hangers against the apparel bar, then she came out holding a pair of black jeans and two tops.
“Which one do you like best?” She held up a low-cut red tank with tiny flowers all over it. “Or this one?” The other one was lavender with short sleeves and a scoop neck. It looked shorter than the red one, but her tits would stay better hidden in this one.
Pointing at the purply one, he said, “That one.”
“I like it better too. I’ll freshen up and change.”
He playfully smacked her booty as she rushed by. Laughing, she darted into the bathroom and shut the door. Switching on the TV, he plopped in the chair and waited for Myla.
Less than twenty minutes later, she emerged looking ravishing as usual. The jeans hugged her in all the right places, and the top molded over her tits perfectly.
“Beautiful and sexy. That’s a good combo, darlin’.”
“Thanks. You don’t look too shabby yourself. I’d tell you you’re handsome, but you already know it, and I’m sure hundreds of women have told you that before.”
