The girl oozed sex, and as I strode toward her, every male eye in the room watched me with envy, or downright jealousy.
“Shit, Tara. You look fucking amazing.”
Her shy smile was replaced with a full-out grin. “Thank you.”
Her gaze raked appreciatively down my body, and had I imagined her pausing as she lingered over my arms? No, she’d definitely focused on them. Good call, Ruby.
Our table was ready, and we were seated deep in the center of the open restaurant, which was noisy, but not terrible. The constant conversation going on at the busy tables around us made it feel somehow intimate.
We ordered wine, and by the time it arrived, I realized she had barely said a word. I’d dominated the conversation, and as soon as the server finished taking our dinner order, I was going to correct that.
“I’ve been going on nonstop since we sat down.” I was acting like a fool, flustered by her. “I’m sorry.”
A soft smile graced her lips. “You shouldn’t be. I like listening to you.”
It was surprising how nice it was to hear, but I needed to change topics. I wanted to know more about her. “How did your performance go?”
“It went good. Were you worried I was going to end up in your lap again?”
I’d be very happy if you were in my lap right now.
“I’ll be honest—I held my breath. But it sounded like it went brilliantly. There was a big reaction from the audience.”
She looked pleased, but then her gaze dropped to her wine. Something was off. She seemed different tonight. Unsure. Where was the confident woman from yesterday?
“Are you all right?”
Her attention snapped back to me, and my anxiety grew. Her expression was strained. “I need to tell you something.”
It was the same phrase from yesterday, right before she’d revealed she was already in a relationship but wasn’t exclusive to the guy. Instinctively, I braced for the worst. Now was when she told me she had an open marriage, or needed money, or that she believed Nazis were just misunderstood.
I tried not to sound skeptical. “Okay.”
“I want to tell you a story, but first, I have a question. How do you feel about sex?”
I blinked. “Uh, I like it?” How was I supposed to answer that? “I like it quite a bit, but maybe you want to be more specific.”
A tense laugh drifted out of her before she turned serious again. “Do you think it’s possible to separate it from emotion? Like, does sex need to be an emotional experience every time you’re with someone else?”
A warning siren wailed in the distance, telling me to choose my words wisely so I didn’t come off looking like a guy who was into meaningless fucks. I wasn’t. But between girlfriends in college, I’d had plenty of one-night-stands, and I was a man. Whenever the opportunity presented itself and a girl was interested, I usually didn’t turn her down.
“No,” I said. “Sometimes, sex is just sex.”
She nodded in agreement. “You don’t have to be in love, or really even in ‘like’ with the other person every time. Don’t get me wrong, with the right person? Sex is powerful and meaningful. There’s nothing else like it. But sometimes, it’s just about having fun and feeling good, right?”
Was this a trap? It felt like a trap. I hesitated before answering. “Right.”
“You look terrified,” she said. “I’m doing this all wrong, but what I’m getting at is, can people be in an emotional relationship, let’s say in love, and never have sex?”
“Of course.”
It was the answer she wanted to hear, because her eyes charged with energy. “So, would it be possible for people to be in a relationship when it’s the opposite of that? Sex without love or emotion?”
My mouth went dry. “Is that what you’re looking for with me?”
She let out a tight breath. “We’ll have to circle back to that.” She snatched up her wine glass and took a long sip, leaving me to wonder where she was going with this.
Did I want a purely sexual relationship with Tara? No. I’d want more. I’d want everything. But if sex was all she was willing to give right now, I’d take it without complaints and do my best to make her interested in more.