Page 6 of Diesel (Iron Sentinels MC #5)

“S oph, are you listening ?” Tom’s voice cut through the thick fog of Sophie’s wandering thoughts.

She blinked, snapping her gaze back to him. Her coffee sat untouched beside the register, gone cold.

Across the shop’s counter, Tom leaned forward, brows drawn tight, lines of worry etched deep into his face. His rough carpenter’s hands reached out and touched her arm, grounding her with the simple, steady contact. Sophie’s pulse kicked at the warmth of the gesture, and the urgency behind it.

“I need you to hear me,” Tom said again, voice low, eyes scanning the empty shop like someone might be lurking in the corners. “These punks work for a guy named Victor Kane. They’re dangerous, Soph. They want this property, this spot in particular, and they want it bad.”

The words hit like a cold slap. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Tom gave her arm a gentle squeeze, his voice softening.

“They’ve been circling for months. Ever since the town mentioned that new development plan. You know I’ve had offers before, sleazy ones. Threats. But it’s different now. More serious,” Tom explained.

Sophie swallowed hard. She knew her little flower shop wasn’t the biggest draw in town. But the location was prime, right on the corner of Main Street, easy foot traffic, and smack in the middle of what a few out-of-town developers had started eyeing as “the new frontier.”

She’d heard Tom grumble about it before. Corporate money trying to gut the town, old buildings being bought up and bulldozed for high-rise apartments and overpriced boutiques. But she hadn’t realized her shop had become a target.

“Sophie.” Tom’s voice pulled her back again. “This isn’t a game. I’ve known men like Kane. They’ll push and keep pushing until they get what they want. I’ve dealt with their type before.”

And Sophie believed him. Tom wasn’t the panicky kind. He’d seen things, served time in the Marines, rode with the Sentinels in his younger days. If he looked this worried, things were worse than she’d thought.

But even as she tried to focus on every word he said, her thoughts kept drifting. Not toward the men threatening her shop. Toward Diesel.

Toward the way his hands had felt on her waist, the raw heat of that kiss they’d barely survived. The sound of his voice when he’d torn himself away, like he was punishing himself more than her. She couldn’t stop replaying it. Couldn’t stop wondering if he was torturing himself now the way she was.

“Soph.” Tom’s voice sharpened, pulling her out of it again.

She blinked fast, cheeks warming.

“Sorry. I’m listening,” she said.

Tom exhaled, rubbing a hand down his jaw. “You need to listen, Sophie. You can’t let them rattle you into running. But you also need to be careful. I’ll talk to Beast, ask for more help watching the place.”

Sophie straightened, trying to push down her nerves. “Tom, I don’t want anyone else getting dragged into this. You know what people say about the club.”

Tom’s gaze softened for a heartbeat. “I know. But they’re the only ones who’ll stand between you and something worse if this escalates. The cops won’t touch this. Hell, I’m not even sure half of them aren’t bought already.”

Her heart thudded at the truth of it. Tom squeezed her arm again, voice turning gruff.

“You be careful. I mean it. Don’t open late alone. Keep your phone on you. And if Diesel offers to watch over you, you let him.”

Sophie opened her mouth, then shut it. If he even wants to see me after that kiss. Tom leaned back with a sigh. “I’ll handle what I can with the club. You focus on staying safe,” he told her.

He gave her a look that brooked no argument and stood, leaving her with a heart too full of tangled emotions to untangle.

The rest of the day was a blur. She tried to focus on her orders, on arranging flowers with trembling fingers, but every rose stem and ribbon just reminded her of the roughness of Diesel’s hands, the way he’d held her like he couldn’t let go.

Now he was probably shutting her out, deciding she was better off without him. The thought hurt more than she cared to admit. So, by the time the clock hit closing hour and the shop stood quiet, her decision was made. She wasn’t going to sit around and wonder. She was going to see him.

****

T he Iron Sentinels clubhouse sat on the outskirts of town. Sophie had driven past it before but never had reason or nerve to go inside. Now, as her little car bumped over the cracked asphalt lot, the low thrum of motorcycles parked in rows made her pulse jump.

Music drifted through the walls, low and pulsing. Laughter and voices followed, rough and sharp. Sophie parked, heart racing, and forced herself to climb out.

You’ve survived worse than a roomful of bikers, she reminded herself. But as she stepped up to the big steel door, her palms were damp and her throat felt dry.

A big guy with a shaved head and thick beard stood by the entrance. He raised a brow when he saw her.

“Club business?” he asked.

Sophie squared her shoulders. “I’m here to see Diesel.”

That got a smirk. “Name?”

“Sophie.”

The man looked her over once, then radioed inside. After a beat, the door buzzed. Sophie stepped into a space that smelled of motor oil, leather, and smoke. The room was big and open. There were concrete floors, exposed beams, long wooden bar to one side.

Men lounged on battered couches or gathered around a pool table. Loud music played from overhead speakers, some rock song Sophie didn’t recognize.

All of them seemed to turn to look as she entered, or maybe that was just her overactive imagination.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Her sundress and light cardigan felt almost laughable here among leather cuts and heavy boots, but she held her chin high.

She wasn’t here to fit in. She was here for him.

A few of the bikers exchanged looks. One even gave a low whistle.

Before Sophie could flinch, a familiar voice cut through the din.

“Back off.”

She turned, heart nearly stopping, to see Diesel standing near the bar, arms crossed, gaze locked on her with equal parts surprise and something darker she couldn’t quite name.

He stalked over, big and solid and beautiful in a way that made her chest ache. His knuckles were still bruised from yesterday. His eyes burned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was low, rough.

Sophie swallowed hard. “I needed to see you.”

He looked like he wanted to argue. Like he was trying to build walls faster than she could tear them down. She stepped closer anyway, heart pounding.

“Tom told me,” she whispered. “About the danger. About the property. About how bad these men want the shop.”

Diesel’s jaw tightened. “That’s why you should stay away from me, Sophie.”

“I’m not here to argue about us,” she said, though her voice cracked on the last word. “I’m here because I trust you. Because I know you won’t lie to me about what’s happening.”

He exhaled slow, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s worse than Tom said. They won’t stop unless someone makes them.”

“And you’re going to?”

His eyes flicked to hers, pained. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. But you being here, you shouldn’t be mixed up in this.”

She didn’t step back. Didn’t waver.

“I’m already mixed up in it,” she said quietly. “This is my home. My shop. I’m not running. And if you think you’re pushing me away to protect me, you’re wrong.”

Diesel stared at her, tension thick in the air. Then he raised one hand, his fingers brushing her cheek in a touch so light it broke her heart.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Her breath hitched. But she didn’t back down.

“Not if I can help it,” she whispered.

Before either of them could think twice, she surged up on her toes and kissed him. This time, he didn’t fight it. With a low, guttural sound that made her shiver, Diesel cupped the back of her head and crushed her mouth to his.

His kiss was rougher this time, more hungry and desperate, the restraint he’d clung to finally snapping. Sophie tangled her fingers in his shirt, tugging him closer. She could feel his heart pounding, the heat of his body pressed tight against hers.

The weeks of tension, longing, unspoken need poured into that kiss until her knees went weak beneath her. When they broke apart, both gasping, Diesel’s eyes burned into hers.

“Let’s get out of here,” he rasped.

She nodded without hesitation.

They left through the back, unnoticed by the few club members lingering around the bar. Diesel’s hand never left the small of her back as they hurried back to her car. His touch was firm, possessive, like he was claiming her with every step.

The drive to her apartment passed in a blur of heat and pulsing adrenaline. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The air between them crackled, heavy with anticipation.

The moment Sophie unlocked her door and stepped inside, Diesel was there, his large frame filling the doorway, eyes dark with want.

She didn’t make it two steps before he had her pinned against the door, his mouth claiming hers with bruising force.

She gasped into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled against her throat, kissing a path down her neck, teeth grazing her skin.

“No,” she breathed, trembling. “Don’t you dare stop.”

With a raw curse, he carried her to the bedroom, his control hanging by a thread. They fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses. Diesel tore off his cut and shirt, revealing a canvas of tattoos, muscles flexing beneath scarred, sun-kissed skin.

Sophie’s breath caught at the sight of him. He looked beautiful and rough, every inch a man shaped by a hard life. But when he looked at her, it wasn’t roughness she saw. It was reverence.

He slowed, his hands trembling slightly as he undressed her with surprising care, like she was something fragile he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch. Finally, she was naked before him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispered, voice hoarse. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, eyes searching hers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me,” she whispered back, her voice barely a breath.

With a tortured groan, he kissed her again. It was deeper, slower this time, as if trying to memorize every inch of her. His hands mapped her body, rough palms skimming soft curves, drawing shivers from her with every touch.

Sophie arched into him, helpless beneath the onslaught of sensation.

She’d never been kissed like this, worshipped with lips and tongue and hands that left her aching and breathless.

He lifted her legs over his shoulders, traced her slick pussy lips with his fingers. Sophie groaned, begged him to take her.

When he finally entered her, it was with a gentleness that made her heart break wide open. His cock felt so good inside her, big and perfect.

Diesel buried his face in her neck, one large hand lacing with hers as their bodies moved together in a slow, relentless rhythm.

“Sophie...” he groaned, voice thick with emotion.

“Ride me, Diesel,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hand. “I’m yours. Right now ... I’m yours.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest. His movements grew harder, faster, his control fraying. But even then, he held her gaze, like he needed to see her, to anchor himself in her.

She felt everything, the press of his warm body against her, her nipples tightening in anticipation. The pressure inside her grew as he slid in and out of her. He reduced them both to sweating messes and each time he entered her, it felt like a vital part of him touched her soul.

When they finally shattered together, Sophie cried out his name, her whole body trembling beneath him. Diesel followed with a raw, broken sound that spoke of more than just physical release.

For long minutes, they lay tangled in the sheets, sweat-slicked and breathless. Diesel held her tight against his chest, his heart racing beneath her ear.

She thought, maybe this was the start of something real, but then she felt the subtle shift in his body, the way his arms tensed, his breathing changed, uneven against her skin.

“No,” she whispered, clinging to him. Her voice trembled. “Don’t shut down on me now.”

Diesel let out a rough exhale and buried his face in the curve of her neck, his stubble scraping softly against her skin. He pressed a kiss there, slow and aching.

“Sweetheart ... I never should’ve touched you,” he murmured against her throat.

She lifted her head and cupped his face between her palms, forcing him to look at her. His gaze was raw, vulnerable, stormy with too many feelings.

“Why?” she asked softly. “Because you think you’re too broken? Because you think I can’t handle it?”

His jaw flexed beneath her fingertips. Diesel gripped her waist tighter, as if letting go would tear him apart.

“Because I care too damn much already,” he rasped. “And that scares the hell out of me.”

“Diesel...” She kissed him then, slow and lingering, pouring her heart into it. When she drew back, her voice was steady. “I’m scared too. But right now, I don’t want you to go. I want you here, with me.”

For a beat, he didn’t move. His breath was ragged. Then something inside him broke, and thankfully he gave in.

With a low groan, Diesel pulled her back down into his arms and wrapped himself around her, protective and possessive and so tender it made her eyes sting.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured against her hair. “But I can’t let go. I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss beneath his jaw. “Stay. Please.”

His whole body shuddered like he’d been holding that wall up for too long. He tucked her tighter against him, nuzzling her hair, her cheek, the curve of her shoulder. He seemed to be unable to stop touching her.

“All right,” he said softly, voice low and rough. “I’ll stay, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

Relief swept through her so hard it nearly made her cry. For the first time in weeks, Sophie felt safe. Whole. Complete. She sighed and nestled closer, resting her palm over his heart, feeling its heavy thud beneath her hand.

Diesel pressed another kiss to her temple, then her brow, slow and reverent. They lay tangled together in the sheets, skin to skin, hearts beating in sync. His hand stroked up and down her back in lazy, soothing passes, as if he still couldn’t believe this was real.

“Go to sleep,” he murmured against her ear. “I got you. Nothing’s gonna touch you tonight.”