Chapter 95 95
DAISY POV
Diesel’s question hung in the air like smoke from his exhaust—thick, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.
“Are you joking right now?” His storm-gray eyes bored into mine, jaw locked so tight I could see the muscle jumping. “Do you love to piss me off?”
The bike was still idling on the side of the quiet street, the low rumble vibrating through the seat and into my bones. I sat behind him, arms still loosely around his waist, but the playful mood from the boutique had vanished. My heart hammered against my ribs.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze even though every instinct screamed at me to look away. “I wasn’t joking,” I said, keeping my voice steady while pointing at the modest building with the large glass windows and soft glowing sign that read Serenity Touch Wellness. “It’s a massage parlor. A proper one — therapeutic massages, not the shady kind.”
Diesel killed the engine. The sudden silence made my pulse sound louder in my ears. He swung off the bike and faced me fully, arms crossed over his broad chest, leather cut stretching tight across his shoulders.
“You want to work… in a massage parlor?” he repeated slowly, like he was tasting something bitter.
I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. “My mom used to do this. She was really good at it — deep tissue, Swedish, even some sports massage. She taught me everything before she passed. I helped her with clients sometimes when I was younger. It was our thing… just me and her. After she died, the only job I could get quickly was receptionist work at that medical clinic. It paid the bills, but it wasn’t what I loved. This…” I gestured toward the building, “this feels closer to something real.”
For a second, Diesel just stared at me. Then his jaw tightened so hard I heard the faint grind of his teeth. His eyes darkened, the gray turning almost black with something raw and ugly — jealousy.
“You mean you want to be caressing other men’s bodies?” he growled, the words coming out sharp and accusatory. “Rubbing your hands all over strangers? Letting them lie there half-naked while you touch them for money?”
The accusation hit me like a slap. Heat rushed to my face — half embarrassment, half anger.
“It’s not like that!” I shot back, stepping closer to him even though he towered over me. “It’s professional. Therapeutic. My mom made a living doing it honestly. It’s not some happy-ending parlor. I’m good at it, Diesel. It’s the one skill I actually enjoyed and—”
He cut me off with a harsh laugh that held zero humor. “Professional,” he repeated mockingly. “You think I don’t know what men are like? They’ll book an hour with a pretty little thing like you just to feel your hands on them. They’ll get hard under the sheet and imagine it’s more. And you expect me to be okay with that? With you touching other men while I’m out handling club business?”
His voice had risen, edged with pure, possessive anger. The muscle in his cheek twitched violently. He stepped down from the bike and took one step forward, crowding me against it. His big frame blocked out the afternoon sun.
“Who the fuck do you think you are to me, Daisy?”
“I didn’t just touch you, Daisy. You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and dangerous now. “Every fucking inch of you. Your hands. Your time. Your attention. I’m not ready to share. Not with anyone. The idea of you running your fingers over some bastard’s back, his shoulders, his thighs…” He exhaled sharply through his nose, fists clenching at his sides. “It makes me want to burn that whole goddamn place down.”
I stared up at him, heart racing. Part of me was in shock. I hadn’t expected this level of intensity from him. He looked angry… but he also looked like he hadn’t realized how much he had just confessed.
“Diesel…” I whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. His muscles were rock-hard under my fingers, coiled tight like he was ready to fight. “It’s not sexual…”
His hand shot up, gripping my wrist — not painfully, but firmly enough to hold me in place. His thumb pressed against my pulse, feeling how fast it was racing.
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s not sexual for you,” he snarled softly. “It will be for them. And I’m not letting any man lie on a table while you touch him. End of discussion.”
The possessiveness in his tone sent an unwelcome spark of heat straight to my core. God, I hated how my body reacted to him when he got like this — all dark and territorial.
I licked my lips, trying to stay calm. “So what am I supposed to do? Hide in the clubhouse forever?”
His grip loosened slightly. He didn’t say anything for a long moment.
He just stood there beside the bike, arms still crossed, staring at the Serenity Touch Wellness building like it had personally offended him. His jaw stayed tight, that muscle ticking angrily. I could see him fighting it — the jealousy, the possessiveness — trying to push it down so he wouldn’t explode even more.
Finally, he exhaled through his nose and asked in a low, clipped voice, “How much will they pay you monthly?”
My heart jumped. A small, hopeful smile crept onto my face before I could stop it.
“Did you agree I should work there?” I asked, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.
Diesel’s eyes snapped back to me. The annoyance was still burning bright in them.
“I only asked a fucking question, Daisy,” he growled, the words rough and impatient. “How much?”
I swallowed hard, my smile fading a little. He was still pissed. Really pissed. But at least he was asking about money instead of shutting it down completely.
I thought quickly. I didn’t want to lowball it and make the job sound worthless, but I also didn’t want to exaggerate. Something average and realistic would show him it was honest work.
“About… $1,800 a month,” I said carefully. “Sometimes a little more with tips if the clients are regulars and generous.”
Diesel stared at me for two full seconds, then let out a short, humorless laugh.
“I’ll pay double,” he said flatly. “Nah… triple.”
“What?” I blinked, completely thrown off.
“$5,400 a month,” he continued like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You can be my personal massager.”
My mouth fell open. For a second it actually sounded interesting — the idea of touching him, working on those tight shoulders and hard muscles every day. But then reality hit.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Diesel, that’s not the point. It’s not just about the money. I need to work outside. I need to feel normal again, to have something that’s mine, something that isn’t locked inside the clubhouse. I spent years—”
Before I could finish, my stomach chose that exact moment to growl loudly — an embarrassing, loud rumble that cut through the middle of my sentence.
Diesel’s eyes dropped to my stomach, then back up to my face. The corner of his mouth twitched, but the annoyance was still there, fighting with something softer.
“Let’s deal with that first,” he said, cutting me off before I could continue arguing. He jerked his chin toward the bike. “Get on. We’re getting food. Then we’ll talk.”
I wanted to push back and finish what I was saying, but my stomach growled again, louder this time, completely betraying me. Heat flooded my cheeks.
Diesel swung his leg over the bike and started the engine with one sharp kick. The deep roar filled the street. He held out his hand to help me on, his grip firm and warm when I took it.
As I climbed behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, I pressed my cheek against his back, feeling the tension still coiled in his muscles.
He was trying — I could tell he was fighting the jealous monster inside him — but he wasn’t ready to let me win this one. Not yet.
The bike pulled away from the curb, heading back toward the compound. The wind rushed past us, but my mind kept spinning.
Triple the salary to be his personal massager…
It sounded like heaven and a cage at the same time.
I closed my eyes and held onto him tighter.
We’d talk later.
Right now, I was just hungry… and a little scared of how much I was starting to like the way he wanted to keep me all to himself.
Author’s Note:
Hey loves! Is Diesel being super annoying to you right now with all that jealous, possessive energy? 😂 Drop your thoughts below — team “Daisy should push back harder”