“The team. Paige doesn’t want it, and there’s no way in hell I’m giving it to Marc.”
“Why not?”
“The maturity factor for one.”
“Okay. Even so, you are not giving me a whole-ass football team. Why would you?”
“I have my reasons.” He walks around to my side of the desk and sits on the edge, folding his arms over his chest.
“I’m listening.”
“Reason number one.” He gestures to me, waving his hand from my face to my heels. “You look comfortable. Like you belong here.”
“That’s not a reason to hand over a billion-dollar franchise.”
“Why not?”
Leaning forward, I peel off my heels and lift my feet up onto the desk, relaxing farther into the chair. Sal’s eyes flash to my legs and his throat bobs, his lips parting briefly before he controls his reaction.
“The job is yours. Look at you making yourself at home. You definitely look more comfortable than I do.”
Sal may be talking about comfort, but he’s wound so tight I’m itching to work out his kinks again. Not that he’d let that happen. Not after where it led last time.
Which is a real shame.
I smile at my inner monologue and he smiles back at me, confusing my expression, because while I am definitely more comfortable than he is, this position isn’t as relaxing as I thought it would be. His desk must be higher than mine.
I subtly wriggle, stretching my toes when my calf cramps and Sal notices immediately.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
“My desk is too high, isn’t it?”
“Jesus. It’s like you read my mind.” I giggle to myself or ratheratmyself and begin to move until Sal lowers himself to his knees and grabs one of my legs, his eyes on the floor as he massages my muscles.Returning the favor.I stare at his hands, watching as his fingers expertly rub my calf, working the tension until it eases.
It’s so good that I can’t control the moan that escapes me.
“You don’t have to do that,” I whisper on a sigh, my voice holding a plea that he never stops.
Sal chuckles, most likely because he said the same to me last time and I didn’t listen. So why should he do the same?
“You’re always taking care of others. Including me. Let me take care of you.”
“Okay, but once you start something you have to finish it.”
“Keeley,” he warns, making me smile.
“It’s only fair.”
“I’m happy to help. With the massage. If that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s a start.”
Sal coughs without looking up at me, and I bite back a grin.
“You know I have men lining up for me. I could name three right now that would drop to their knees and crawl to me if I asked.” I’m exaggerating, a little. If I was into football players, I’m sure I could win over a few rookies. Hell, I know at least one of them would drop to his knees if any woman showed him her bra. But that woman isn’t me.
