Page 84 of Explosive Prejudice

I left the painting tools behind to go look for him but stopped in my tracks not even ten feet away when I found the brown paper bag tossed on the pavement, with Thai food spilled all over the place.

Shit.

Diesel

Worried, I tried calling Shay-Lee again as I jogged through the parking lot. When he didn’t pick up for the third time, I ran faster. I’d expected him to have thrown some sort of tantrum because if he’d heard a shred of the conversation, he’d probably got the wrong idea. I mean, I did fuck her, but it wasn’t like I cared for the bitch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I shouted once I found the idiot hovering over a white car with what looked like a—“Is that a knife?”

“Fuck you,” Shay-Lee shouted back before stabbing the knife into the front tire and slashing it.

As soon as the tire deflated, he moved to the next one. “In case you have any doubts, it’s your face I’m imagining right now.” Stab. “Fucking womanizer.” Stab.

Holy shit, the guy’s feral.

I stepped closer, but not too close, and pointed at the car. “That’s her car?”

“If by her you mean your one-hundred-year-old cunt, then yes, it is.”

I tried to hold back a laugh because he was hilarious until his eyes latched on to mine. Shit. He was really angry, and as sexy as it was, I’d rather it not be directed at me while he was holding a knife.

“She’s not my—ugh, shit.” I laughed. “We just fucked a few times. I don’t care about her.”

“We just fucked a few times.” He mimicked my voice while waving his hands in the air before slashing another tire.

“Was that supposed to sound like me?”

“Glad you find this fucking amusing,” he barked, his face red. “You had a good laugh about me, didn’t you? After fucking her, did you lie in bed and just talk shit about me? Maybe you ran some jokes about my rich daddy and fucked-up life along the way.”

Okay, now he was pushing it. “Hold on.” I pointed a finger at him. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, mixed with wrath and pain. “What else am I supposed to think? There you were, telling me we can’t be together ’cause it’s wrong, but sleeping with her isn’t? Talk about double standards. You fucking hypocrite.”

Using the knife, he engraved the word “whore” over the hood while yelling at me. The sound of scraping metal rang painfully in my ears, and I gritted my teeth together before charging at him.

“Don’t touch me!” he shouted as I crossed my arms around his chest and pulled him away from the car. “Let me go, you mutt.” He lifted his legs and placed them on the bumper of the car, pushing against it while trying to use the momentum to get free.

As he continued throwing punches, I scanned the area, ensuring we were alone. So far, we were, but if he continued making so much noise, it was only a matter of time before we were noticed. A sharp pain caught me off guard, and I looked down to see blood running down my forearm. It was more of a scratch than a deep cut, but it was enough to cause bleeding. I doubted Shay-Lee did it intentionally, considering how he hadn’t even noticed. He was losing it, and my heart broke each time he tried to hit me. His hurt and anger were more painful than his snarls and punches. Shay-Lee was unreasonable as always, but he had every right to be. After all, I did sleep with her, which was wrong, but he didn’t know I thought the same. And in the middle of this ongoing chaos, I realized what I had to do in order to calm us both.

“Llorón,” I whispered in his ear, and he stilled. Tightening my arms around his panting chest, I felt his rapid pulse underneath my touch. “She’s nothing but a nameless whore.” I moved one hand to his hair and pushed it aside before pressing my lips to his ear, then his cheek. “You’re the one I care for.” My words were just as much of a revelation to me as they were to him. It was like a dam had been removed, and every emotion I had ever felt toward Llorón and Shay-Lee flooded me at once, taking control over each part of my body and soul. It was so sudden and so intense that for a second, I loosened my grip around him and almost dropped him to the ground. But then, I retook control over my body and hugged him tighter.

A shuddered breath escaped him, and he tilted his head to the side, giving me access to his lips I starved to taste again. At first, we just pressed lips without moving, but then he dropped the knife and placed his hand behind my neck, pulling me closer and accepting me with an open mouth. When I deepened the kiss, he moaned around my hungry tongue while clawing at my shirt, nearly ripping it apart with how hard he was pulling it. Our position was awkward, with his legs pushing against the car while I held him midair, but he didn’t seem to care as he tried to climb me, sucked on my tongue, and groaned into my mouth with his eyes closed.

Placing my hand on his jaw, I angled him so I was the one controlling the kiss. I drank in every moan, cry, and groan he gave me. It became an obsession I could no longer deny, and I was greedy for more. So much more.

“Fuck,” I hissed, then kissed the side of his lip, where he had a small cut. How did he hurt himself?

“Don’t stop,” he cried between heavy breaths, so I turned him around and pinned his back against the hood of the car to the sound of his desperate voice.

Spreading his legs, I stood between them, pressing my body to his while I continued to kiss him with the brutality he squeezed out of me. I slid my hand underneath his shirt, feeling the expanse of his strong chest and abs before moving to the curve of his back, pulling him closer.

I was painfully hard as we thrust our hips and rutted against each other.

“I need to fuck you,” I groaned, grazing my teeth over his jaw while slipping my hand into his jeans and squeezing his cheeks. “Where’s your car?”

“T-there,” he half moaned, pulling his keys and handing them to me. “R-right there!” I wasn’t sure if he was referring to his car or to the spot behind his ear I had just sucked, but whatever it was, it left him with needy moans.

After pulling Shay-Lee upright, I quickly picked up the knife from the ground before grabbing his hand. Tangling our fingers together, we started running toward his Benz.

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