Page 45 of Explosive Prejudice

“Of course it does.” I crossed my arms over his chest and pulled him close until his back was plastered against me. I was grateful that we were both still naked, not because I planned on doing anything sexual, but because of the closeness it provided. Other than our masks, which apparently were still needed at this point, there were no barriers between us. “With the right person, sex should feel exactly as it did just now.” I kissed the top of his head.

Digging his fingers into my forearm, he took a deep breath. “I’m a bad person,” he whispered, as if confessing to a crime he didn’t commit.

“So am I.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I.”

“Stop it. Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.” I ghosted my hand over his smooth skin. “I’m being honest.”

He huffed, and the familiar, bratty sound brought a faint smile to my lips.

“At first, I didn’t care about those masks… but now I do,” he said, covering my hand with his. “I’m scared of what will happen when the day comes and I take it off.” Taking a deep breath, his body tensed. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

Hate him? I understood his fears, but hating him sounded ridiculous. Obviously, he was either unaware or in denial about how strongly I wanted him.

“I could never.”

“You say that now, but you will. Just wait and see.”

“There’s no need.” I tangled our fingers together. “Because I understand your fear. Right now, I’m scared shitless that you’d leave this room and never come back.” The idea of him running away was suddenly terrifying. “So how about this. If you promise to come here again tomorrow, I promise to never hate you.”

He half turned in his place until our eyes met, and I could see how he searched me for the truth.

“You promise?”

“Sí.”

“Okay, then.”

Shay-Lee

“I’ll see you all by the pool in five,” Coach yelled as he left the locker room, leaving us all to change.

“Since when do we have swimming class instead of good old PE?” Kamper complained beside me as he got undressed.

“Coach said it’s a new thing,” Ty answered him. “The PTA thought it was essential.”

“That’s bullshit,” Kamper grunted as he covered his pale ass with swimming shorts. “Don’t you agree, Rogers?”

“What?” I asked after I gave zero attention to his whining.

“Dude! Were you even listening to us?”

Looking up at Kamper’s impatient face, I shrugged. “Actually, no, not at all.” Ever since Jordan moved to New York and the shithole twins went to prison, Kamper was sticking to me more than before, probably hoping to replace them by my side. As if. I barely tolerated the asshole.

I stood to change into my swimming shorts. The second I unzipped my pants, my mind went back to last night and to the way Nero undressed me. I recalled how his fingers tangled with the waistband of my slacks right before he pushed them to the floor and moved his hands over my heated skin.

Fuck.

It seemed that no matter what I did today, my mind kept wandering back to last night and to all the glorious ways Camilo tore me apart. After waking up this morning, he was all I could think about, from when I took a shower to eating breakfast, driving to school, and sitting in class. My mind was solely focused on him. I couldn’t explain it, but last night changed everything. It wasn’t just the sex that made me feel closer to him but the way he shared himself with me, starting with telling me his name. Between recalling every second we had spent together and tracing my fingers along the marks he had left behind on my skin, I also kept saying his name over and over in my head.

“What’s going on with you?” Kamper whined, pulling me out of more pleasant thoughts.

I smiled at him. “Nothing. I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all.”

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