Page 90 of Explosive Prejudice

“You’re playing with fire.” He got close to me, grabbed my hips, and then lifted me up so I’d sit on the counter.

I wrapped my legs around him, locking him in. “How else would I get your attention, Diesel?”

His brows frowned at the sound of his nickname coming from me, and he cupped my jaw.

“Now you have it.”

I grinned, then bit my lip a second before he pulled me into a kiss that was too damn short.

“That’s it?” I whined while jerking my hips so he’d notice my semi.

Looking between us, he chuckled. “We fucked before coming to school.”

“That was four hours ago.”

“Don’t pout.” He squeezed my cheeks and then dropped his hand to my thigh. “We do shit like this, and we’ll get caught before we know it.”

“So what if we get caught? Maybe it won’t be that bad.” We pondered for a moment about the possible outcome, then quickly brushed it off. Getting caught would be extremely bad for both of us.

“Andrei will kill me and would probably try to kill you, too,” Camilo said as he began digging his fingers into the thin fabric of my gym shorts, massaging my thighs.

“He has every right to try and kill me. I would’ve killed me, too, if I were him.” I laughed until I noticed the warning behind Camilo’s eyes. “What?”

“Stop talking about killing and dying, will you? It pisses me off.”

I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine.”

“Good.”

His eyes quickly checked out my mouth, and he licked his lips before meeting my stare. “You’re an annoying little brat, you know that?”

“I do.” I wrapped my arms around him and sealed him in. “Think we can crash at Kai’s tonight?”

“I can’t hang tonight. Got work at the club.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw.

The mere thought of Camilo putting on his Gatto mask and serving random clients who wanted nothing more than to have their hands around him pissed me the fuck off.

My Camilo is nobody’s whore.

“You need to quit,” I said, hugging him tighter. “I’ll give you all the money you need.”

Camilo’s brows furrowed before he pushed away from me and started walking toward the door. Jumping from where I was sitting, I walked after him.

“Hey—”

“I don’t need your money,” he cut in.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You already know why I work there,” he said, turning to face me.

I did know. The first time we talked about Iván, Camilo mentioned that Dion was keeping his brother safe in exchange for him working in the club—a deal made with the devil.

“So I’ll talk with Dion. I’m sure I can settle things for yo—”

Grabbing my body and pushing me against the door, Camilo cut me off midsentence. “You’re not going anywhere near Dion,” he hissed, his chest pressed to mine while his body kept me pinned against the door.

“Why not? That crazy fucker has a thing for me. He’ll do what I tell him to.”

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