Page 3 of Knot for Sale

A lanky, auburn-haired form stirred on the sofa, stretching like a lazy tomcat. “Hello, dove,” Elijah said. “Did you have a gig tonight?”

His voice was raspy—either because he had, in fact, been napping before I came in, or because he’d had one or more cocksdown his throat recently. I hummed an affirmative sort of noise in response, setting my bag on the pass-through kitchen counter and heading for the fridge.

“The Lyrik Sherina Autumn Collection, yeah,” I told him. “How was your heat? No offense, b-but you look like someone ran you through a clothes wringer b-backward.”

Aaand now my stutter was making an appearance. Wonderful. Still, at least it was only Elijah. With him, I could let it go without judging myself too harshly... meaning it probably wouldn’t make my anxiety spiral until I could barely put a sentence together.

“Oh, mygod, Em.” His expression went distant and dreamy as he visibly disappeared downkinky memory lane. “There was this woman with the longest alpha clit you haveever seen. And,damn, did she know how to use it. She and one of the males put me in this crazy sex position where—”

“You know what,” I said quickly, cutting him off before he could wax lyrical about the benefits of the upside-down wheelbarrow position or some such. “Never mind. I can live without that information. You’re good, though?”

Hesoundedas though he was good, notwithstanding the line of livid bite-marks marching down the length of his bare, baby-smooth torso—including a particularly brutal one placed squarely over his left nipple. I dragged my eyes back up to his face with difficulty, only to find him smirking at me. Amusement lurked behind his forest green gaze.

“Believe me, I amspectacularright now,” he said. “Assuming I don’t have to move for the next three days or so.”

Something of my dour mood must have come through in my facial expression despite my best efforts, because he sobered abruptly and rolled into a sitting position with a wince of abused muscles.

“You, on the other hand, are clearly not spectacular. What’s up, dove?”

I looked away, fiddling with the cap of the water bottle I’d grabbed. “Is Jessica here?”

“No,” he said, “she’s not.”

It wasn’t a surprise, for all that it was a relief. Jessica was hardlyeverhere; not since she’d started dating a new girl a few weeks ago. I sighed, deflating like a balloon, and flopped down on the far end of the dilapidated couch.

“I think I’m about to get dropped from my agency.”

Elijah twitched backward in surprise. “What?Why? With your looks, you should be a hot property. Everyone wants your kind of vibe!”

I offered him a sour smile. “Tell that to the clients who keep canceling their contracts with me. I guess the agency owners finally got tired of it. I’m meeting with them first thing Monday morning to face the music.”

His angular face screwed up in a moue of distaste. “Ugh. First thing in the morning? That’s just cruel.”

It was nothing more than a stupid joke about the late hours models kept, but somehow, his expression of outrage on my behalf succeeded in doing what a threatening text and the prospect of imminent unemployment hadn’t managed earlier. Tears welled up behind my eyes, burning as they gathered like an assembling army, ready to declare war on my mascara.

Elijah’s face fell, and he scooted across the distance separating us. “Hey. Hey now. Don’t cry, dove.”

I let him gather me up in his arms, even though I knew how dangerous it was to allow anyone to get too close to me. I couldn’t afford to rely on other people, but sometimes you just needed a hug, damn it... and Elijah gave really good ones.

When you were five-foot-ten and female, the opportunities to feel tiny and protected were few and far between. I wasfreakishly tall for an omega, but Elijah had me beat with his lithe, six-foot-one-inch frame. I tucked my head under his chin and accepted the no-strings comfort being offered.

“You’re letting this career get to you too much,” he said, after a few minutes. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself, Em.”

I made a wordless noise of protest, even though it was true.

“Maybe this is a sign to step away for a bit,” Elijah continued. “You can’t let modeling destroy your health—physicalormental.”

I swallowed hard.

“But what else would I do?” The words escaped without my permission, a bare whisper.

Silence settled between us.

“I don’t know,” Elijah said after a short pause. “Anything you wanted. Go back to school, or go into fashion design, or... start your own damned agency and treat the models like actual human beings?”

I huffed, painfully aware of how unlikely any of those things were to happen. When my lack of response grew too awkward, he sighed.

“Look, do you want to come back to my room tonight?” he asked. “I’ve still got the heat hangover from hell, but I expect I can manage a few hours of chocolate ice cream and cuddling.”

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