Page 9 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“And yet, I know you did.”
Her smile elevated her face and my heart leapt along with my dick.
“What time is it?” Naomi asked, glancing around the nearly empty club.
I checked my watch. “Three in the morning.”
“God, it’s incredibly late. Where did the time go?”
“I have no idea.” I looked at her across the table, this woman had somehow shifted from stranger to fascination in the span of one evening. “It’s three in the morning, and I’m not ready to walk away from you, Naomi.”
Surprise flourished in her eyes. “Well damn, what else could you possible want from me?”
“More.”
She was quiet for a long moment, then crossed her legs and linked her fingers together. “What if I could give you more but not in the way you think?”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m thinking about an arrangement. Something between business and personal.”
My pulse quickened. “What kind of arrangement?”
“Two Wednesdays and one Saturday each month. We meet. No explanations about what we need or why we need it. No expectations beyond what we want in that moment. No complications from the outside world. Sometimes it might be dinner and conversation like tonight. Sometimes it might be more intimate. Sometimes it might just be sitting together in a cozy quiet night. But it’s just us in whatever capacity that means.”
I stared at her, trying to process what she was offering. “That’s...”
“Crazy?”
“Perfect.”
She smiled—that authentic satisfied smile I’d seen all evening.
“So you’re interested?”
“Naomi, that might be the best proposition I’ve ever received.”
“Good.” She reached into her clutch and pulled out a business card, writing something on the back. “Here’s my personal number. When you want to see me, text me.”
I took the card, our fingers brushing. “When can I text you?”
“Whenever you want.”
“What if I want to text you tomorrow?”
“Then text me tomorrow.”
I stood and helped her with the chair. “This evening has been beautiful, Naomi.”
“I know.” She glanced around the empty establishment. “Give me a minute while I use the ladies room.”
“Sure.”
When she returned, her gorgeousness struck me like it did when I’d first laid eyes on her.
“Jesus, you’re stunning.”
She blushed. “Thank you, Mr. Valentine.”
