Page 16 of Explosive Prejudice

“Sorry?”

Leaning forward, I rested my arms on my knees. “I told you to call me Nero, which means black, so, what do I call you?”

Looking taken aback, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t think about it.”

“Llorón.”

“What?”

“That’s what I’ll call you. Llorón.”

His mouth curved in displeasure. “You’ll call me Crybaby?”

So he understood Spanish. Interesting.

“¿Tú hablas español?” You speak Spanish?

“A bit. My housemaid is Mexican. She taught me when I was a kid. Now, answer my question. Why Crybaby?”

“Because you look like you love crying.” I imagined the tears rolling down his face, turning his blue eyes red and his cheeks wet. “I bet you look hot when you do.”

“Hot? I thought you were straight.” He snorted.

Moving my hand to my crotch, I spread my legs wider apart. “Never said I was.”

“So what about your rule?”

“Does it immediately make me straight?”

You’d think the mask would make it hard to know what he was thinking, but I could read him like an open book. His clenched jaw, tensed shoulders—his body reacted to me so clearly that I didn’t need to see his face to tell he was annoyed.

“So what are you, then?”

“Oh, you can’t just ask me that. It’s offensive.”

“Fuck you,” he hissed, and I laughed.

“Are you gay?” Avoiding giving him my answer because he hadn’t earned it yet, I turned the question on him.

“Obviously.”

“You’ve got an attitude, Llorón. I like it.” I more than liked it. So far, this was my most entertaining session since I started working here.

“And you’re an asshole,” he bit back while adjusting his dick.

“An asshole that’s making you hard.”

Turning his head away from me, he tried to keep his hand from touching his stiffening cock, which made me wonder why I noticed his dick in the first place. I knew I’d just teased him about me not being straight, but it was true. Until him, I’d never been attracted to a man before.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he admitted without a hint of shame. “Got a problem with that?”

Not one bit. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Yeah, I do. I think it’s unfair how you come to the club every night, get all hot because of me, and then go screw Dion while imagining it was me.”

He laughed. “Get over yourself.”

“So you’re saying it isn’t true?”

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