Page 18 of Biker's Prisoner: Property of Bucky

His face getsall serious again and there’s a flicker of fear running through me.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you before without clothes on.”

“What? A short woman with no ass?”

No laughter.Just curious blue eyes. I feel like I want to disappear. The sense of something sinister on the horizon grows. It feels like something large pushing against the walls of my chest. I don’t know why there’s something off about this man wanting to see me naked.

“A black woman.”

Oh.There it is.

Chapter Eight

Ruger

Iwatch Zayna’s face, waiting for her to say something to me. I’m hoping she doesn’t push me away. But she does. Of course.

“If you want to see a black woman, go watch some porn,” she says disdainfully.

She has a gleam in those dark eyes like she’s trying to start some shit. But I don’t find her slice of attitude this time amusing in the slightest. There’s no place for pornography between the two of us. Between me and any woman. Acting quickly, I lean forward and spit on the ground at Zayna’s rude ass suggestion.

She flinches, because it’s obviously fucking nuts to spit on the floor, and maybe she thinks I’ll give her another hand necklace. I like watching her flinch and squirm, especially when she sneers at the wad of spit. Her first clean up job tomorrow.

“I don’t watch that shit,” I say to Zayna, making sure she can see that I am dead fucking serious about every word coming out of my mouth. “Relationships and sex are meant to be cherished. Private. Special. Intimate.”

I close more distance between us. She might be filthy. She might have the wrong color skin for me. But every time I get closer to this woman, my dick gets hard. So fucking hard that Iwonder if Iamattracted to her. Zayna rolls her eyes, even if I mean everything I said. When I love a woman, my eyes exist only for her.

God made it quite clear in the good book. Even looking at another woman after promising yourself to another is adultery. Plain and simple. I hold myself to those standards and expect the same treatment in return. Darlene knew my beliefs when she agreed to marry me. My whole fucking family was right about that woman.

Zayna keeps lookingat me all fierce and upset, like she’s trying to think of what to say next. The best thing she comes up with is a single, disinterested word.

“Whatever.”

“I’m serious,” I tell her, heat flowing just beneath my skin as I stifle the urge to threaten Zayna with all manner of torture if I catch her looking or thinking about another man. (I can explain the rules to her later.)

“Okay. Great,” Zayna replies sassily. “That doesn’t mean you need to see me naked.”

My cock swells uncomfortably in my pants and I want to grab Zayna by that thick head of hair and drag her ass into the shower. But I can’t. Not if I want to get what I want. Still, I can’t let Zayna get away with too much sass.

“You’re here and you have the skin color I want to see.”

She folds her arms over her chest which feels like I’m getting further away from my goals. Even if I’m close to her, she doesn’t budge. She doesn’t give me the slightest bit of affection or kindness in her gaze. It’s just pure anger.

“You’re racist,” she says with this flat tone of realization.

I find the accusation highly irritating. But I can’t let her know that she’s getting under my skin, because what I know about Zayna so far… she’ll enjoy it.

“You get to be the judge of that?” I try to look like I’m teasing her. Like I feel happy-go-lucky about everybody’s obsession with race. Why does my curiosity make me a villain? I was truthful. I want to see her naked.

Zayna is quick with it. “I’m black, so yes.”

“Okay. Well you’re racist towards me,” I throw back at her.

There it is. Anger. I feel like I’m winning.

“Huh?”

“I’m white. So I can say if you’re offending white people.”

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