Page 57 of Biker's Virgin


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“Lonely?” Zack repeated, and he sounded surprised by the question. “I live in a huge house with a bunch of other men who come and go as they please. I never feel lonely. In fact… sometimes I crave loneliness.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Do you miss not having a partner in life?” I asked, deciding to go down this road despite my reservations.

“Oh,” Zack said, with understanding. “You mean a woman?”

“Yes.”

He was obviously uncomfortable with the question. I saw the discomfort solidify itself in the mask he always wore when he was trying to hide how he really felt.

“I have tons of women,” he bragged cockily. “More than I know what to do with.”

“I’m not talking about casual sex,” I said impatiently.

“What else would I go to a woman for?” he asked.

I recoiled from him and looked down at the breadboard in front of me. “You know what? Forget I ever said anything. It was a stupid question to ask in the first place. Of course you’re not capable of having a real relationship with a woman because women are only commodities and possessions in this kind of lifestyle. I shouldn’t even be surprised.

“Scratch what I said before. I don’t have anything to worry about where leaving this place is concerned. I don’t really belong here. I never did. I’ve just clung to this false sense of security because it’s easier than focusing on the fact that Walter is still out there and waiting for revenge. The truth is, once he’s found and out of my life for good, starting new someplace far away sounds perfect. In fact… I can’t wait to leave.”

“Great,” Zack responded, in a tone that suggested he was equally offended by what I had just said. “I’m sure you’ll find a straight-laced guy who’ll bore you to happiness.”

“At least I’ll be happy,” I said, dropping the bread in my hand and walking away from him.

He abandoned his task too and turned to me. “Please… that’s not happiness. It’s just another form of entrapment. It’s just socially acceptable, so you’ll convince yourself it’s what you want.”

“What the fuck do you know about what I want?” I demanded.

“More than you do.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Zack walked towards me until we were almost nose-to-nose. He was very much taller than me, but I didn’t let that intimidate me. I pulled myself up to my fullest height and stared him down.

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’m an asshole, and you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

I bristled at his words and stared at him in shock.

“What?” he challenged. “Nothing to say now?”

“I… that’s… You are dreaming—dreaming—if you think I’m in love with you.”

&n

bsp; “Keep telling yourself that,” Zack laughed. “I’m sure it makes you feel better.”

“I don’t have to tell myself anything,” I stormed. “You are the last man on earth I would ever fall in love with. You’re arrogant and rude and violent and—”

“Strong and confident and passionate and exciting,” Zack interrupted. “And you know you’re attracted to me. You’re just scared to admit it.”

“Why would I be scared to admit that?” I demanded.

“Because you’re scared of me,” Zack said unapologetically. “And you’re scared of the life I live.”

I stared at him for a shocked second, and then I turned and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

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