This Girl Stripped (7 page)

I fucking hate bikers. I hate every last one of them. Maybe spending so much time here at Star’s has helped me to overcome my aversion for their type? Is this part of my journey to healing? Trusting my judgment and body again.

It’s an internal battle. Every small sexual urge I feel, I constantly quash. I feel dirty when I think of these things. But, are they all bad? Can I live my life feeling as though I’m a bad person because of what one man did to me? Or can I work to reclaim my own body and soul - not be a victim to his madness anymore?

One thing I know for sure is that I’m truly fucked up and the fact that I’ve had a couple beers isn’t helping me. Finally, moments later I answer him.

“Men…” it’s simple, but Diesel is also a man of few words. The strong silent type. The kind of person who can express a rainbow of emotions with one simple look.

“River is stupid,” he laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him break a smile. But I can see all of his perfectly white teeth as he grins from ear-to-ear.

“How’d ya know it was River?” I ask. I’m curious, because I think I’ve gone out of my way to truly hide my feelings for the short time I have been surrounded by my new gang of friends and family.

“It’s the way you look at him, Princess.” The smile fades as he turns on the stool to face me. His rough, tattooed hand reaches up and for the first time since Zane attacked me, I don’t flinch at the touch of a man. His fingers push a strand of hair behind my ear, and his hand cups my chin. “He is stupid for not seeing how perfect you really are.”

Before I have the chance to say anything, I can feel his lips gently push against mine. My mind is running wild, thinking about everything I should do or say, but I don’t push him away. Instead, I kiss him back. My lips part, and his tongue explores my mouth. I massage his pierced tongue with mine. We make out at the kitchen island for anyone to see. But not a soul interrupts us. My hands move up his arms and begin to fist his hair. Each minute that passes, I become more brave with my actions.

Everything about this is freeing. I feel in control. I feel wanted, and desired. I feel like I can stop this at any minute if that is exactly what I wanted to happen. The feeling is exhilarating and scary all at the same time. I needed this. I needed to move on from all the demons holding me back. But is this the right way to go about it?

In the back of my mind, I wish it was River bringing me to this level. I just can’t take his constant hot and cold anymore. He is too complicated for me. I need uncomplicated. I need simple. I need someone like Diesel.
Fuck, did I just say I need a biker? Dammit!

Our lips part and I’m damn near panting. His beautifully dark eyes are warm, and welcoming. I feel comfortable with him. Shit. What now? Before I can speak, his fingers lace between mine, and the intimate connection warms my body.

“Wanna come upstairs?” I don’t know why I ask. Maybe for more privacy. Maybe to test my own boundaries. Maybe I just don’t want anyone to catch us. He doesn’t answer with words, his lips just meet my cheek, and he pulls me to my feet. We slip past the crowd in the front room still decorating the Christmas tree. River is nowhere to be found, he probably left and went back to his house. I shouldn’t care or think about him right now, and I am going to do my damndest not to.

The alcohol is flowing, and the Christmas carols are loud as hell. No one notices us as we slip up the stairs, hands still connected. Once we hit the landing, his arms wrap around me. My back presses up against my bedroom door, and our mouths meet once again. We are even more hungry now. I want to lose myself in him. Good or bad. Train wreck or not, this is what I need. I keep telling myself that, at least.

He tastes like beer and some kind of spearmint gum. It’s refreshing. Nothing like the nasty cigarette ridden breath of Zane. Every step of the way, I find myself comparing the two. I don’t know if I am doing it on purpose or if my mind automatically wants to pick out the good of this - push Zane further out of my mind. In a way it’s working.

Diesel’s hand turns the doorknob. As we push through the doorway he picks me up and I wrap my legs around him. The spiked heels of my shoes dig into his denim covered ass. He lets out a growl into my mouth and I push the door closed. Our limbs tangle together as my body hits the bed. His strong body covers me, and instead of panicking, I find myself pushing back against him while sucking on his tongue.

His hand pushes up my shirt, past my bra and right to my bare breast. I can’t help but moan. Diesel’s touch is beyond anything I could have imagined. His thumb traces my nipple and my body trembles under his touch. The pleasure I feel from such simple contact is amazing. I’ve never had anything like this.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, as his kisses start trailing down my body. His fingers move to the button of my pants, and I don’t stop him. I let go of all the thoughts flooding through my mind. I let him. I give myself to him. I just feel his touch. Listen to his sweet words. Heal under his hands.

“Oh God, Diesel.” I call out in between moans of pleasure. That’s when I feel his fingers graze my pussy. Gently pushing my underwear to the side, and pushing his finger slowly into my cunt. His thumb caresses my clit and I can feel my body starting to build toward the first orgasm I’ve had at the hands of another.

One hand fists the sheets, and my other goes searching for the button of his jeans. Finally finding it, I unbutton and unzip, and dive my hand in to fist his cock. It’s thick as hell. I can’t help but think he would break me in half with that thing. But it feels so smooth in my soft hands. He lets out a deep moan.

“Shit, Paisley.” His words encourage me. He likes what I’m doing. I lay back and enjoy the pleasure he’s giving me while I grip his erection and slowly work up and down. I try and focus on getting him off, but my own orgasm interrupts my efforts. His thumb rolls over my clit again, and I come undone.

A scream of pleasure escapes my lips, echoing through the spacious bedroom.

“Shit! Diesel. Fuck.” I cry as my body spasms and my cunt tightens around his single finger. I lay lifeless under his body, recovering from the single most pleasure filled moment of my life. I feel good, like really fucking good. I’m okay with everything that just happened and I want to return the pleasure he just gave me. I imagine I would be panicking right now, but I’m not. I’m perfectly fine.

“Lay on your back,” I instruct him as I move to straddle his body. My hands quickly work down into his pants and instead of jerking him off like I had planned in my mind as his fingers were deep inside me, I pull his dick free and lower my mouth to his thick cock. A small bead of pre come glistens as I wrap my mouth around him.

Running my tongue along the smooth flesh of his cock, I slowly start to suck his dick.

“Mmmm, Paisley. Your mouth feels so good,” he moans. It encourages me. I take his dick as far into my mouth as I can without gagging. I peak at him through my eye lashes. His eyes are closed, and he looks like he is in pure heaven. I am filled with pride, knowing I am pleasing him. It gives me a renewed sense of confidence around men.

I quicken my pace, and wrap my fingers around the base of his cock. My hand jerking him off while my mouth sucks on the swollen tip of his erection. I can feel his cock start to jerk in my hand.

“Paisley, stop. I’m gonna come,” he pleads, but I don’t want to stop. I want to finish him off, just like he finished me. God I wish he had his mouth on my cunt. Damn.

I suck harder, and I feel the burst of salty semen flood my mouth. I swallow every last drop, and lick him clean.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” the door slams against the wall, and River stands in the door way.

“Who do you think you are, River? You can’t just fucking walk into my room like you own the place!” I scream at him the second Diesel walks out of the room. I slam the door and he stalks across the room heading for my bed. Unbelievable.

Before I realize what he is doing, all of the blankets and sheets are ripped from my bed and thrown on the floor. He’s in a rage. I’ve never been scared of River, but this is a side of him I’ve never seen before. He won’t look at me. He won’t talk to me. He’s just destroying my bed.

“RIVER! STOP!” I try to snap him out of the trance he’s in, but it’s useless. I take a few steps away from him, trying to put as much space between us as I can. I don’t want to leave him alone in my room, but I don’t want to be close to him.

“What the fuck Paisley? Are you that much of a WHORE that you give it up to ANYONE?” His words are like a slap to the face. After everything he’s helped me through, he would turn around and call me a whore? Was this even River? Was this the man who laid in my bed with his arms around me as I cried for days on end?

Everything I just worked through in my own damn head is out the window. Did I fuck up? Am I really a whore for being intimate with Diesel? I didn’t think I crossed over into Whore Village, but now that River has suggested it, the thought won’t leave my mind. I hate him for making me even question my actions.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, River. Are you seriously calling me a whore? After everything we’ve gone through together in the past month, you would stand here and call me a whore?” I want to throw something at his head. I want to slap him, but I am still so scared. I don’t want to go anywhere near him.

His brow is covered in sweat, his face is beet red, and his breathing is labored. I watch him as his rage slowly slips away and he collapses onto the floor of my bedroom landing on the pile of sheets.

“Paisley, you just spent the whole afternoon with me - all day long - and then you come up here with him?” After he did nothing but push me away? He has some fucking nerve.

“River, I keep throwing myself at you. Every time we get close, you run. What do you want me to do? I don’t understand you at all! You are hot and cold. Close and so fucking far away! The mixed messages are too much. I need to live, I need to move on. I need to get over all the bullshit I’ve been through and try to attempt life as a normal twenty-four year old woman!” My arms flail through the air as I scream at him. I’m sure my face is as red as my hair at this point. I’m pissed - and sad, all at once.

“I can’t do it anymore, River! You either want me or you don’t! This is my life. This isn’t a game!”

“You are too good for me, Paisley. I will only hurt you. I’m no good.” He turns away from me and runs his fingers through his dark hair. I want to go to him, but I can’t bring myself to move. I can’t comfort him when I need someone to comfort me right now. This whole day has just been far too much for me. These men are too damn confusing.

“Whatever, River. You have nothing but excuses. You’re all pissed off and now you will go disappear for a couple days until you start sulking around here again. It’s the same shit all the time!” His head snaps in my direction, and his bright eyes shoot daggers in my direction. The rage is back and as apparent as ever.

“Every time I leave you for days on end, I’m fucking prostitutes pretending they are you. Over and over again, Paisley. Every fucking time I leave, I’m trying to fucking work you out of my system. I just can’t! It gets harder and harder every time. All I ever think about is YOU! All I dream about at night is YOU! When I fucking jerk off, I imagine you on your knees in front of me, sucking my dick. Then I fucking walk in on you with Diesel’s cock shoved down your throat!”

What the fuck? What did he just say? My brain literally just exploded in between my ears. I can’t even comprehend the words he just spoke or form a coherent reply.

“What?” I gasp, and just stare at him. He slowly crosses the room, taking a single step at a time, watching and waiting for me to bolt in the opposite direction. But I stand my ground. I let him come to me, because I think this is what we both need.

“Paisley, when I say I’m a shitty person, I mean it. You don’t want me. You may think you do, but you don’t.” His words are soft, and with one last step, our bodies are almost close enough to touch. I want him to touch me, which makes me feel like the whore he was calling me just minutes ago. I want his hands all over me. I want him to claim me. But he won’t.

“Paisley, I am so wrapped up in you. But, I can’t be with you. I wouldn’t treat you well. I’m fucked up. You deserve better after what you’ve been through. I fuck prostitutes. I’ve never had a normal relationship. You deserve flowers, and love. You deserve more than I could ever give you. You’re a queen who needs a king. Not some pervert who pays to get laid. Walk away from me, please. Before I hurt you.”