“I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” But he couldn’t keep it under control, not when it came to her.
“That’s not what I was going to say.” She crossed one leg under herself on the bed, turning to face him. “I was going tosay thank you. But also … I should probably explain. What those guys were doing.”
He waited for her to continue.
“I’m a model, Eli. Like, professionally. That’s my job.” She watched his face as she said it. “Those men recognized me because I’ve been on magazine covers and billboards and fashion shows. Sometimes barely wearing anything more than underwear.”
“A model.” He was doing his best to process this.
“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “You really didn’t know?”
“No.” He sat down on his own bed, facing her. “Should I have?”
A laugh escaped her mouth. “Most people do. I’m not one of the top names, but I do get a lot of big bookings. Fashion weeks, magazine shoots, that kind of thing. I was in a Grammy-nominated music video once, you know.”
He didn’t read magazines, didn’t watch TV unless it was on in a break room somewhere, and the only thing he’d ever looked up on the Internet was directions. “I don’t really pay attention to that stuff.”
“I’m getting that.” She tilted her head, as if studying him. “Does it bother you?”
“Why would it bother me?”
“Some people get weird about it. They see the job and not the person. Or they assume things.”
Now it made sense, what she had said yesterday about being worried he would brag to his friends about sleeping with her. “I don’t know anything about your job,” he said. “I just know you.”
Something shifted in her face. Slowly, she got up, and crossed the distance between until she stood between his knees. “Eli,” she said in a breathy tone, her hand landing on his cheek. “Today was nice, wasn’t it?”
He stiffened. “Before the cops came, you mean.”
She grinned. “Yes, before that.”
Closing his eyes, he leaned into her soft palm. Just like this afternoon, her touch felt natural. Soothing, even. Turning his head, he nuzzled at her wrist, the scent there the strongest at the pulse point. Fuck, he wanted to drown in that scent. In her.
“Olivia, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He inhaled a sharp breath. “I’m not strong enough to resist you.”
“Resist?” Her finger traced down his cheek to his chin, tipping his head up. Her brilliant eyes shone with an emotion he didn’t want to think was real. “Why would you resist? I’m right here, Eli.”
He couldn’t look away. “I don’t want to have sex.”
“Oh?” she said, her words loaded with challenge.
“I mean, not just because we’ve already done it.”
She placed a hand on her hip. “When are we going to have sex then? When our kid is eighteen?”
His gaze flickered down to her stomach at the reminder that they were going to have a child. Somehow, that was making this whole resisting thing harder. “You deserve more. More than this shithole motel, more than me?—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t say that. I know what I want.” She leaned down until they their faces were centimeters apart.
“I want to do this the right way. Take you out on dates and buy you flowers and stuff.”
“Why?”
“Like I said, you deserve to be treated that way.”
