Page 15 of Explosive Prejudice

“Why did you want her to leave?” he asked, not wasting time.

I liked his impatience. It sat well with the rest of his spoiled brat persona.

“She wasn’t needed.”

“But what about your rule?”

“What about it?”

“Are you going to break it?”

“No.” I grinned, and he pouted his beautiful pink lips.

“So what are we going to do?” he whined like the needy kitten he was, and it triggered me to push him harder.

“First, you’re going to sit on the bed.”

“Why would I do that?” he grunted.

Closing the small gap between us, I hooked my thumb underneath his chin and forced him to look me in the eyes. “Because that’s where I want you to sit.”

His breath hitched while he looked at me with wide blue eyes begging for attention.

Nodding like a good boy, he waited until I let go of his chin before moving to the bed.

“Back against the headboard,” I said while watching him crawl on the mattress until he was positioned as I ordered. “That’s more like it.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice on the verge of panic as I turned around and disappeared into the darkness. “Black Gatto?” His voice quavered, causing me to smile.

“Just call me Nero.” Reaching the chair, which I assumed belonged to him earlier, I sat down. “And I’m right here. Don’t be afraid.”

He swallowed hard but snorted a laugh to show he wasn’t that affected.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“You, switching our positions.”

Spreading my legs and making myself comfortable on the chair, my eyes never left him. At first, he pointlessly searched around the room. After all, it was a thrilling experience to be surrounded by complete darkness. But as soon as I spoke, he figured out where I was and now was looking straight at me. He might not be able to see me, but he could feel my presence, which was exactly what I wanted.

“We never switched roles. It was this way from the start.” There was no question about that. From the moment he first saw me in the lounge, getting head from a client, his eyes desperately begged to be owned by me.

Shifting on the bed so his legs were spread and his arms crossed, he leaned his head back and narrowed his eyes.

“What now?”

“Now we talk.”

“Talk?” he almost laughed.

“Don’t you think it’s appropriate?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all. I want to know you.” And I did. He made me curious.

“Fine,” he huffed, making himself comfortable on the white sheets. “What do you want to know?”

“What do I call you?”

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