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The room is too perfect, like everything else about him.
"Definitely not. But if you do know the current location of John Connor, don't hesitate to let me know."
I chuckle as I bring the silver-gray comforter up to my chin. "Thanks for letting me crash."
"I didn't expect you to be out of it for this long."
I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night, worried as I was about what he might have in store for me. All in all, it wasn't that bad. I enjoyed some of it.
What am I saying? I loved every moment of it. The bounds. The chair. The vibrating toy and the plug moving in and out of my ass…
The only thing I wasn't sure about was watching that film, but by the last time Camden played it, I didn't care much.
"I couldn't sleep last night," I confess.
"Were you scared of me?" Camden asks.
I consider the question. Am I scared of him?
I wouldn't push him so much if I thought him capable of truly harming me. At the same time, he'd have no issue hurting me a little. All I can count on is for him stopping short of murder—so long as I don't piss him off too much, that is.
Ishouldbe afraid of him.
I'm not.
I shake my head.
"You couldn't rest because you were seeing me today. Why do I cause you sleepless nights, if you're not afraid?"
I don't know, so I just shrug my shoulders helplessly.
"Do you have a little crush, Morgan?" he presses.
"Pffft." Not exactly eloquent, but it's the best I have.It makes it sound like the very notion is preposterous. I pray he'll leave well enough alone.
But I'm dealing with Camden Hunt, so of course, he doesn't. "Is that a blush I see?"
"I don't have a crush on you," I spell out, actually telling the truth.
Crushes are for the ignorant and the innocent. I'm nothing like the teen salivating over Camden when I saw him at the waterfall, or in his tux at Erica's wedding. My attraction to him had been purely physical, and predicated on theunderstandingthat he wasunattainable, andI'd never get to find outwhat was beyond the surface.
Now I've seen him, the true Camden, rather than the mask he presents to the world. Whatever he makes me feel now, it's not a crush.
"Then why are you redder than usual, princess?"
Curse him for being that observant.
"Fine. SomaybeI used to have a crush on you," I grumble. "But that wasagesago. It's dead now. Long buried. Rest in peace."
"Wait, how long ago are we talking?"Camden tilts his head, his mind working overtime to make sense of my words. "Like, back at the wedding?"
"Never you mind." I move the comforter out of the way and swing my legs down to the rug, eagerly seeking an escape. "Where's the bathroom?"
"Oh, you're not getting out of here that easily." Camden reaches out, takes my hand, and tugs me to his lap. "When?" he demands.
I curse myself for not being proficient enough a liar to prevent this line of questioning.
"When what?" I mutter.
