Page 30 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“This osso buco is amazing,” she said, ignoring my question. “Is this from Marcelli’s?”
“Yes.”
She nodded but didn’t comment further.
“The tiramisu was exceptional the last time I had it,” she added.
“Naomi.” I put my fork down. “Talk to me.”
“I am talking to you.”
“No. I mean, really talk to me.”
She took another bite of food, set her utensil down, grabbed her wine glass, and leaned back in her chair, studying me with those sharp brown eyes that made my heart race.
I stood, moving around the table to stand behind her chair. My hands settled on her shoulders, my thumbs finding the tension at the base of her neck.
She leaned into my touch, her head falling back. “That feels good.”
My thumbs worked in slow circles, finding the knots that came from a day of managing her business. She melted under my touch, a soft sound escaping her lips.
“This is not fair,” she murmured.
“What’s not fair?”
“Using massage to get what you want.”
“And what do I want?”
“Your hands are very persuasive.”
I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear. “What do I want, Naomi?”
She shivered but went mute. After another few seconds of massaging her, I pulled a chair in front of her, sat down, leaned forward, and slipped my hands to her knees.
We stared at each other for a long moment when she sighed.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“I want you to tell me what’s going on with you tonight.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s not me. It’s you.”
I frowned. “How is it me when you’re ignoring my questions and acting as if I’ve done something wrong? And if I have, make me aware of it instead of having me chase you for answers.”
“Okay. We were having sex. Good sex, and you kept slowing down.”
“Because we had just begun, I wanted to take my time with you, and you were wincing.”
“Fuck that.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Why take your time? What are you trying to do? Make love to me?” She shook her head.
I inhaled a deep breath. “What would be the problem if I was?”
“Making love is for people in love. Not people with arrangements.”
