Page 72 of David's Proposal

“Do you have a problem with that?” I ask.

“No. Not at all.”

He drinks more wine and sets the glass on the table before leaning back into the sofa.

“What about that woman?” I ask, placing my drink on the coffee table.

Pam, as I like to call her.

“Is she home now?” I ask.

As if I really want to know.

He gives me an amused look.

“You don’t want to know about her.”

“No, I don’t. But you said she was necessary.”

His eyebrows lift.

“Necessary?”

“You said that as long as we’re not officially seeing each other, you would see other women.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

I lie back against the pillow.

“Yes, you did. And I hope your coming here doesn’t have to do with that. I don’t need a formal announcement on that.”

He reaches my legs, lifts them up, and drapes them over his lap like he did that night when he cleaned my knees, and I ended up riding him like it was going out of fashion.

He slides his hand under my right foot and massages it.

I can’t put into words how good it feels.

My blood moves faster, and the tension dissipates.

I instantly relax.

“I won’t sleep with other women if you don’t sleep with other men,” he says, and I sink my teeth deep into my lip to conceal my surprise.

He really felt the pinch of jealousy. I never thought I’d see this day.

“Okay,” I say.

He came all the way here to say this to me?

If the voice inside my head didn’t look sternly at me with her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face the size of my fist, I would jerk upright, whip my arms around him, and kiss him.

But I’m afraid of her nagging, and plus, it wouldn’t be wise. Just because he said what he said doesn’t mean anything. It’s a rule. That’s all.

Rules are being broken all the time.

“Have you thought about my proposal?” he asks, his hand moving up my legs.

Once he reaches my thighs, he pushes his touch down, away from them.

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