Head On (Strength And Love)(25)

“When you offered me money for sex!” He’s shouting now, and I hate it, but I won’t back down. I raise my voice once more.

“You have sex for money. I didn’t think asking a prostitute to have sex with me if I paid him was a big deal.”

“Fuck!” He hits the wall beside me with his fist and I bite back a scream. “Don’t use that fucking word. And you’re here, in my house. My guest. Your fucking dog is on my fucking bed, wrecking my sheets as we speak. You’re eating my food, and I’m trying to find out who is attempting to hurt you. What part of all that made it okay to offer to pay me to screw you?”

Shit, he has a point. Again.

“Do you think Selina has ever seen the inside of my house? Or been in my car? Or any of my other clients? No, they have not.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears fill my eyes. I’ve screwed up. “I hate being a virgin. I want it gone. It was a stupid, stupid idea.”

“Why do you want it gone so bad? So you aren’t a virgin anymore. You shouldn’t have sex for that reason. It’s a pathetic reason to have sex.” He spits the word pathetic at me. “You should have sex because you want it, not to tick it off some to do list.”

He turns and stalks down the corridor. “I do want it,” I shout after him. I’m het up, and ashamed of myself for earlier, but still so livid with him that all my usual control and self-introspection has gone out of the window. “I want it so badly, but I’ve never met anyone I fancy enough. I don’t mingle well with people. I say the wrong thing, as you’ve found out. I’m not popular, or outgoing. I don’t meet many people, and I’ve never met a man I’m really attracted to…until you.”

He stops, but doesn’t turn around, still giving me his back.

“I know I’m not your type, that’s the only reason I offered you the money. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ve never felt such an intense attraction to someone before, but I didn’t want you to have to give me some sort of pity sex if you don’t like me. I presumed that as a professional, you sometimes have sex with women you’re not that into.”

Face on fire now, I turn away, too, and head to my room, wanting to crawl under the covers and die.

“You think I’m not attracted to you?” His voice stops me mid-step.

“I’m attracted.”

So, what’s the problem?

“It’s not so simple though. I’m not what you need.” He answers my question as if I’d said it out loud.

No, he’s not what I need. Not long term, anyway. I couldn’t be with a man who screwed other women, whether for pleasure or money. And he’s too much for me. Like a force of nature, he’d take me over until there was nothing of me left. But I want to start living life, and experiencing the odd walk on the wild side, and what better way to start than with Ethan?

It occurs to me I’m maybe using him, if we do this. But if he’s attracted to me, too. Where’s the harm?

I glance over my shoulder, and he’s no longer facing away, but watching me.

“I think this is a bad idea.” He seems to be trying to convince himself.

He’s changed into a white cotton t-shirt and sweatpants, and as I glance down his body, I see a distinct bulge at the crotch. I swallow. One of my favourite things to watch on my porn nights is guys taking care of themselves. I love it. And I imagine him doing that now. Touching himself, taking care of that hard ache in his pants.

I drag my mind from the gutter and meet his eyes. Amusement dances in them and I know he’s caught me checking him out.

He comes toward me, slow and deliberate. “We do this, and it’s a one-time thing.”

My heart starts to pound, hard. I nod and swallow down past the sudden lump in my throat.

“We scratch the itch, this insane thing between us, and then we move on, right?” His deep blue eyes are dark in the dim light of the hallway. “We tackle this…thing between us, head on, and move past it.”

“Yes. Head on and then move on.” I repeat his words.

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Why?”

He laughs. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re more than a decade younger than me. You’re a virgin. You’re naive. You’re all small and delicate and…you...”

Why does he still think I’m some delicate flower? I pull up the hem of the dress Ann lent me, past my knickers, ignoring his widening eyes. I see from the way they flicker that he’s noticed my scars.

“I spent days in intensive care when I had my accident. They operated twice to stop the bleeding in my liver. I had glass embedded in me from thigh to mid-waist. I fought so hard they told my dad it was a miracle I survived. My body isn’t frail, and I’m not either. I’m awkward. Introverted at times, but I’m not frail. Or stupid. I survived this, I can damn well survive you, Ethan.”

He makes this odd sound, like a cross between a groan and a cough. Then he’s moving, and he’s fast. His hands tangle in my hair and he angles my head to give him the access he wants, and he’s on me. His lips find mine and there’s no hesitation. No tentative exploration. His mouth is hard and hungry against mine, and he takes me over. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and scrapes his teeth along it, sending delicious shocks across the sensitive nerves there.