Page 65 of Explosive Prejudice

After putting the jacket on, which was too big but I liked it anyway, I climbed behind him. As a car guy, I’d never actually got to ride a motorcycle before, so I didn’t know what to expect. Looking around, I tried to think where to place my hands until I settled for his shoulders while making sure to keep a fair distance from him.

Diesel snorted, and I frowned.

“What?” I snarled.

“You’ll fall off this way.”

“No, I won’t.”

He snorted again.

With a heavy sigh, I moved down the seat until my body was pressed against his. “Better?”

Instead of answering me, he unfolded his arms and grabbed my hands, bringing them forward and crossing them around his waist. “Hold on to me properly, or you’ll fall off. Got that, Princesa?”

My nostrils flared as my cheeks heated up. “Don’t call me that,” I bit back.

Laughing, he shook his head, then hit the gas, sending us forward in a flash. Startled, I instantly hugged him tighter and held on to his body for dear life. The motorcycle sped up in seconds, racing down the road leading outside the house property. I didn’t realize how suffocated I had felt until we passed the main gate and the dozens of paparazzi waiting beside it. Only once we were far enough and got on the highway did I feel like I could breathe again.

Diesel maneuvered between cars, increasing speed until the world blurred around us. My heartbeat quickly replaced the sounds of the wind, the road, and the engine of the bike as the adrenaline kicked in. I soon understood what he meant when he told me about the need to push the limits and rush down an open road until you crash. The risk of touching death was liberating, forcing me to remember that I was still alive.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tightened my hold around Diesel’s warm body. His firm abs and strong muscles turned him into my shield, one that kept me safe from the world. Like an anchor, he was there, driving us through the night, giving me something to hold on to. And I liked it. I liked the feeling of comfort, even if it felt like a dream.

“Shay-Lee.”

Opening my eyes, I realized we’d arrived. So peaceful, I didn’t even notice the ride was over.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I pushed away from him and got off the bike. Taking the helmet off, I looked at the five-story building we parked in front of.

“Where are we?” I asked, knowing very well this wasn’t their house because last semester, Jordan and I broke into their place in search of dirt on Andrei. To be fair, it was all my idea, considering how Jordan just followed my lead.

“A friend’s house. Sometimes I crash here.”

My eyes shot to his. “A friend? What kind of a friend?” There was no fucking way I’d be spending the night at his friend’s house. Probably some slutty whore he met at the club while working there.

“Calm down, will you?” Diesel grunted, giving the back of my head a slight smack. “It’s not that kind of a friend.”

Clearing my throat, I followed him into the building. “What makes you think I’m not calm?”

“Your face.”

“My face?” I snorted as we stopped in front of the elevator.

“Yes.” He turned to look at me. “Your face.”

The elevator arrived, and we stepped in. Diesel pushed the button for the fifth floor, and the doors slid closed.

“What about my face?”

“Everything is written on it.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed, making me press my lips together and bite the inside of my cheek to hold back from telling him to fuck off.

Reaching the fifth floor, the doors opened, and he stepped out with me following behind. It was a relatively new building, and it seemed like the floor only had two apartments in it.

“So what kind of a friend is it, then?”