Page 125 of Rebellious

Diesel: I don’t live the lifestyle.

Rebel: It’s a lifestyle?

Diesel: Yes. What’s your next question?

Rebel: What is the kinkiest thing you like to do?

For the first time in a very long while, Diesel’s face flamed. Her question embarrassed him, reminded him of why they should never be together, even after she turned eighteen. He indulged in very depraved behavior, but she was so sweet and naïve, she thought nothing of asking him what should’ve been a very innocent question. Any answer he gave would corrupt her, which he absolutely didn’t want to do. Not ‘in real life’. He’d save that for his illicit thoughts.

Diesel: I plead the 5th. Again, you’re wasting your questions on me.

Rebel: Fine. How does a penis fit into a girl? I watch porn and it slides in easily. Then I saw yours when Axel bombed your bathroom and it didn’t look the same. It wasn’t standing up.

Well, she’d done as he fucking asked. Anyone else, he could deflect.

Diesel: I was flaccid. Soft. I didn’t have an erection, so it wasn’t standing up.

Like that motherfucker was now.

Diesel: Next question.

Rebel: Does it hurt to get tested for STDs?

Diesel: No. Why ask me?

Rebel: You must’ve had at least fifty in your life.

Diesel laughed.

Diesel: I’m fucking insulted.

Rebel: No, you aren’t.

Diesel: Next.

Rebel: How does sex feel? Especially the first time? Does it hurt then?

Diesel: Sex feels different for everyone. And at no time should it hurt, Rebel. Especially if you’re with someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.

Rebel: Like you?

Diesel: I refuse to answer that. Your questions have nothing to do with me or my cock. Penis.

Rebel: Too late. Suppose I asked you to see it when it was erect?

Diesel’s dick threatened to burst through his pajama bottoms. He reminded himself that she was sweet, innocent, and illegal. Not for him. Especially now. No, not ever.

Rebel: When I’m healed and not full of bruises, I’ll send you a nude picture of me.

At that image, dizziness assailed Diesel and his breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He tightened his grip on his phone and punched the side of his head again, hoping to knock sense into his degenerate brain.

Rebel: I’m so curious.

He almost texted her that she should be curious somewhere else, but he’d been warned not to kill Kaia, the motherfucker she’d take her curiosity to.

Rebel: If we exchange pictures, does that mean we’re sexting?

WHAT?