"So." Kai grinned at me as we began on our project. That grin made me uneasy every time I saw it. It looked wicked on his handsome face. "What are your fetishes, Joan?"
I scowled at him, not able to hide the blush crawling up my face, "Just focus on the job."
We were working on our mutual project, worth a quarter of each of our Art degrees. A great collage of the post-modernist artists, combined with photography and artworks from the new century, spread out across my kitchen table. We had been friends for almost a year now, although all that we had in common were our mutual love for Chinese food and a passion for art. Kai was tall, dark-haired, and had the body of a stripper, something that all our friends liked to joke about. The way he moved was always sensuous, flirtatious, suggestive. I, on the other hand, stood at an average height with a mess of brown hair scraped back in a low ponytail, and sported, in my opinion, a rather dumpy figure. It was an uncomfortable truth that I was rarely found attractive.
"Not before you tell me what your fetishes are." He leaned back smugly in his chair, arms folded and grey eyes burning with amusement.
I scowled again, "What makes you think I have fetishes?" I stood up to get a drink, uncomfortable. I could not deny that I was incredibly attracted to him, even though he was way off my usual 'type'. "For all you know, I'm a lights-out, missionary girl."
Kai laughed and licked his lips, "Oh no, no, no." he got up to lean against the kitchen counter, blocking my way to the fridge, "You see, I can tell when someone's a missionary type."
"Really?" I gave him a withering look, "You're gay. How do you know?"
He snorted, pretending to be offended, "Bisexual, actually."
"Well, your seven ex-boyfriends in the past half-year beg to differ." I pushed past him to get to the fridge, brushing against his rigid torso as I did so. An irrational shiver of excitement flew up my spine, and I cursed my own body. It had been more than a year since I last had sex, and it seemed that every time I touched a man, my body screamed for me to stop idling.
"Would you be disappointed if I was gay?" his arm snaked around me to shut the fridge, while the other braced itself against the kitchen counter on my other side. "Do two guys going at it turn you on? Do you have a fetish for bisexual sex?"
"What—no!" I tried to force past him, my face red, "What's with all the questions?"
"Well, you see..." He pressed against me and leaned in close, "...I've really wanted to fuck you for a while now."
I flushed a deep crimson, "Let me go, asshole." I growled, "You know I hate it when people take the piss."
