Page 25 of Explosive Prejudice

“Is everything okay?” Nero asked when I’d been quiet for too long. Repelled by my own promiscuousness, I didn’t know how to act, so I did what I knew best.

“You can touch me whenever you want. I don’t give a shit.”

His eyes looked at me with sadness, as if he detected the lie slipping through my lips, which only worsened my shame and increased my anger.

“I’ve had enough from you.” Trying to get away from him, I stepped back, but I’d forgotten that the bar was behind me and bumped into it. Typically, it wouldn’t have mattered, except that my back was still injured from when my father tossed me over the weight rack. The sharp pain shot through my body like lightning, causing me to wince. Noticing my reaction, Nero quickly reached for my side to steady me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I hissed because it hurt like a motherfucker. This stupid injury was why I hadn’t shown up in the club or at school for the past three days.

Before I could tell him to let go, Nero slightly lifted my shirt to expose my back. I wanted to push him away, but my head was resting against his chest, and it felt so good being there, so right.

“Who did this to you?” His voice, low and dangerous, shocked me to my core. Why did he care?

“No one.” I tried to push out of his protective embrace, only for him to hold me closer.

He was finally touching me. Not just touching me. Nero was hugging me, and it felt good, too good for something that shouldn’t be right at all.

His eyes locked on me. “Was it Dion?”

“What?” My brows pulled close, which only increased his anger. “No!” I quickly clarified. “God, no, it wasn’t him.”

He finally released my body, and I stepped back. “Why do you even care?” I asked while straightening my clothes after he messed them up by grabbing me. Mostly, I did it so I could calm down my racing heart. Why was I even reacting this way? It wasn’t like I had never been touched by a man before.

If only that were the case.

“Come.” Nero grabbed my wrist and started to lead the way.

Trying to keep up with his pace, I whined from behind him. “What the hell? What’s gotten into you? And where the fuck are we going?”

Diesel

“You’re fucking nuts.”

“Just shut your mouth and lie on the goddamn bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he hissed, and I tried to hold back a laugh because his protests made him sound like a feisty kitten. “I’m not going to let you massage my back like some creep.”

Having had enough of his ranting, I took two steps and closed the distance between us.

“What?” he snarled as I reached him.

“You’re fucking annoying,” I said, bent down, and lifted him like a princess.

“Put me down,” he squealed while trying to hit me.

Ignoring his pointless protests, I walked us both to the bed and then carefully placed him on the edge. “Clothes off.”

“Excuse you?”

With a crooked smile, I repeated myself. “Clothes. Off.”

He huffed and puffed but then started taking off his clothes. But the bastard didn’t just get undressed. He stripped, and the guy sure had the talent for it. First, he unbuttoned his silk blouse, then began removing his pants. While slowly sliding them down his beautiful legs, the loosened shirt also slipped off his wide shoulders and hit the floor right next to his ankles. Next, he stepped out of his loafers until he was left in nothing but a pair of white briefs and the mask on his face.

“What now?” He tilted his head, his voice impatient.

“Lie on your stomach.”

---