"What did you say?"
"Nothing." I scowl at him.
He purses his lips, then seems to come to a decision. "Remember the camera?"
I glance up at the small device hidden in the ceiling, and the hair on my forearms rises. "That’s not creepy at all," I murmur.
"Well, I have this fetish."
I whip my head in his direction.
"Excuse me?"
"Now, don’t jump to conclusions." His chest rises and falls. "It’s just, I like being on display."
I blink. "You mean, like being watched?"
"Exhibitionism. It’s my kink."
A pulse thuds to life low in my belly.No, no, no. I will not be turned on by this talk of kink and fetishes and such."So, you’re trying to say that—"
"Being on camera makes me horny."
I gape. Seriously, my mouth falls open, and I know I’m staring at him like he just told me he’s from another planet—which he might be, because I’ve never in my life heard something so… kinky.
"So, if someone is watching you… it makes me want to put on a performance."
He rolls his neck. "Although, that’s not the only reason I kissed you. As I mentioned earlier, you were surprised, and I didn’t want you to scream and get their attention."
"I… I honestly don’t know what to say."
"How about we call a truce? If we need to stay in here together, we can’t exactly keep fighting."
"I don’t see why not." I bring my knees up to my chest. "And if you think coming clean about your perversions is supposed to be reassuring—"
"It’s not. I was merely being open, so you’d begin to understand me."
"I don’t want to understand you."
"Afraid, given the proximity of our situation, we may not have much choice but to get to know each other very well."
I lower my chin and try to read the subtext of what he’s saying. A-hole that he is, he takes in the expression on my face—which I’m sure must be a mix of horror and fear—and he bursts out laughing, "Relax, Angel, I’m not coming on to you again; not unless you ask me to."
"Which I do not." I raise my hands. "Let’s be very clear. I don’t want anything to do with you. You stay on that side—" I stab my finger toward the opposite corner of the cell "—and I’ll stay here."
"Now, that’s not fair, is it? You get the bed and I get the floor."
"Well, I was here first." And this is an insane conversation. We’re both trapped in here, and rather than discussing how to get out of here, we’re squabbling like a couple of children. But this man… He’s too big, too broad, too handsome, too confident of himself. Something about him just rubs me the wrong way. He’s just too over-the-top. Too much. There’s too much of him for this small space. And he smells too good. Goddamn it. For that alone, I should hate him. No one has the right to look so good. I mean, just being in his presence gives me an eyegasm.
"I have a better idea; why don’t we share the bed?"
"What? No!" I straighten my spine. "I already gave you the cover earlier, didn’t I? So why don’t you take that and retreat to your corner of the room."
He glances around, then walks over and snatches up the cover. When he straightens, he sways a little. "Cazzo!" He squeezes his eyes shut. "Thosestronzisure did get to me."
"How did you get to be here anyway? Do you know who knocked you out?"
He stabs his finger over his shoulder in the direction of the camera.