Chyna sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Are we having this conversation again?”
“Nothing wrong with me wanting you close.”
“No, there’s not,” she agreed. “But, come on, Italy for a photo shoot for two months. It’s a dream come true.”
He held her tighter. “I didn’t know it was your dream though.”
“Well, it is,” she said, breaking his hold. “I really don’t want to talk about this again. I feel like we’ve had this same discussion a dozen times since I got the job offer.” She shook her head and started walking back to her bedroom.
“Can we talk about how you got this job again?” Adam asked. “Seems kind of suspect.”
“Is it suspicious because someone thought that I could perform a job well or because I want to go?” she demanded, her anger rising.
This was ridiculous . He just couldn’t fathom why anyone would hire her. She had no prior experience, no references, and no in to the modeling world besides a mother who no longer spoke to her. Yet, she still managed to get this job. He didn’t understand that she needed none of that.
She still managed to get this job. She just needed a break, and she had found it.
“Why do you have to change the subject?” he asked, striding down the hallway after her.
“Because you make it seem like I can’t do whatever I want to do,” she said, pushing the door open with her hand.
“I never suggested that. I merely want to know how you ended up getting a modeling contract thousands of miles away from me without batting an eyelash.”
“Oh, so you think I batted an eyelash?”
She whirled in place. “Is that what you think?”
Adam walked slowly up to her, standing all tensed-up in the middle of her bedroom. He placed his hands on her arms and stared down into her eyes. “No,” he said with a wry smile. “That’s not what I think.”
She stared up into his hazel eyes that were looking so intently down on her, and she felt bad for getting so riled up. She was leaving in twenty-four hours and didn’t need this bickering. Why did she have to get like this? He only had her best intentions at heart.
“I was merely curious about the circumstances surrounding a job that you didn’t apply for or know anything about. I don’t want you walking into some kind of scam,” he told her reassuringly.
“I’ve told you about how I got the job,” she said, not breaking eye contact.
“It’s not a scam.”
“Tell me one more time,” he requested, running his hands down her arms.
“I met Marco,” she began.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Mr. Moretti,” she corrected, “the fashion designer for Marco’s clothing line, at his grand opening.”
“And, you got those tickets…” he prompted.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. They showed up at my front door.”
“Right. They showed up at your front door,” he said, his voice disbelieving.
Chyna soldiered on. She was telling him the truth, even if he was refusing to believe her. She didn’t know how she got the tickets, and frankly, she didn’t care because those tickets led her to get the job. “Mr. Moretti offered to do a photo shoot with me when we met at the opening.”
“Just like that. For no reason. No other offer,” he said snidely.
Chyna swallowed. “No. No other offer.” Okay, so she fibbed a bit, but he didn’t need to know that. “I told him I would think about it, and then I took his card and left.”
“And, you thought about it and decided you wanted to go to Italy for two months.”
“I didn’t know he would want me to go to Italy for two months when I agreed to model for him,” she told him exasperated.
“Well, what did he tell you?”
“That he would meet me in Central Park since he was still in town. We took a few pictures. He offered me the job and told me some information about the shoot.
I accepted. I found out about the extent of the modeling job after I’d already agreed to go. I couldn’t back out!”
“I know,” he said, running his hands across her waist and pulling her in close.
“I know how you feel about it all. I’m just going to miss you.” He whispered that last line into her ear.
She nearly lost it. He would miss her.
He hadn’t said that before. No one had ever missed her. Not really. Not like that.
Not heartbreakingly so.
She grabbed at the back of his button- up shirt, fisting it in her hands, and she pulled it loose from his pants. She needed him right now like she had never needed anything else.
“What are you doing?” he asked softly.
She looked up at him with a devious smile. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Once his shirt was untucked, she ran her hands up the front and began unfastening each button individually.
“Why the sudden shift in mood?”
“You’re going to miss me,” she whispered, biting on her bottom lip.
“Of course I am,” he said, reaching up and running his thumb across her jawline before he captured her lips.
“No one ever misses me,” she admitted, pushing her hands underneath his shirt and sliding it over his shoulders.
He shrugged out of the shirt, letting it fall to the ground. She felt so vulnerable, but this was Adam. She could do this with him.
He seemed to respond to her declaration with vigor, pressing his lips desperately against hers. Their mouths locked together in an emotional feverish embrace, speaking volumes more than either of them had ever been able to say about their affection. He broke contact to kiss her neck, lowering the spaghetti straps of her dress so that he could kiss across her exposed collarbone. It was a helpless longing of two souls craving nothing more than the other.
Chyna’s hands went to work, unbuckling his belt and then shoving his pants to the ground. She wanted him, needed him. It was something more than desire pushing through her, but she couldn’t place it. All she knew was that this needed to happen, and it needed to happen now. Everything else could wait.
His hands found the hem of her dress, and he pulled it over her head. She smiled up at him confidently. She was so unbelievably ready for him. He stripped out of his boxers while she unclasped her bra and stepped out of her pink thong.