Save That for Wedding Night Nikita Mirzani 3

Nikita Mirzani set her volume to vibrate and tucked her phone in her clutch. Then she took a deep breath, set the rose on the bed, and headed off to the elevator.

As soon as the lobby doors opened, she saw him. Zack was standing opposite the elevator, leaning nonchalantly against the wall exactly where she had expected him to be.

It was the vantage point that let him, quietly and unobtrusively, see everyone and everything going on in the entire room and outside the huge glass doors. Either old habits died hard, or he was still in the same line of work.

He’d seen her, too. He smiled as he straightened and started toward her. He was still slender, his muscles still moving with the same quiet strength beneath his dark linen suit. His hairline had receded a bit, the style well cut, but not military short anymore.

A light blue shirt set off the color of his eyes and crows’ feet crinkled at the corners of his eyes. And oh, he was smiling. She had so missed his smile.

Nikita Mirzani met him halfway, her hands out to take his. But when his arms slid around her, somehow it was right. She slipped into his embrace like she’d never left, and they stood there in the middle of the lobby, tears streaming down her face as they clung to each other.

“Oh, baby, I’ve missed you. It’s so good to see you again.”

His voice wavered, and she smiled into the warmth of his chest. “I’ve missed you, too.” Her laugh was shaky. “It’s a good thing I’m not wearing mascara, or I’d have ruined your shirt.”

He inhaled as her mouth opened—She could almost hear the words between them. Then the shirt would have to come off.

But neither one of them spoke. Instead he led her to a quiet corner where she could dry her eyes and blow her nose. She tried to excuse her self to go to the ladies room, to splash cold water on her face, but Zack shook his head, trailing the side of his knuckle down her cheek.

“You’re beautiful just the way you are. I don’t want to waste another minute without you.” He nodded toward the door. “My car’s outside. Let’s go to dinner.”

He held out his hand. His eyes held mine, and they didn’t look away. In that moment, she knew she had made up her mind. She squared her shoulders, put her hand in his, and they left.

The restaurant was only a few blocks away, still on the waterfront. The sun was setting. Lights twinkled on the boats moving slowly past the restaurant’s huge bay windows.

“On the recommendation of a friend,” Zack ordered swordfish and delicate pasta, the perfectly steamed house vegetables, and a light white wine. They each had a single glass, and spumoni for dessert.

Nikita Mirzani knew dinner was delicious. But her attention was riveted to the mesmerizing voice of the man whose absence, she was quickly realizing, had been a hole in her life for almost twenty years.

Each laugh, each stroke of his finger over the back of her hand or along her palm, was like a salve seeping in to fill the voids inside her with color and sound and even the damn aromas of the appetizer samples he held out to her on the end of his fork. God, she had missed him.

They spent hours and two pots of coffee filling in the three-dimensional details that online communication could never quite complete. No matter what the subject, her thoughts always came back to the compelling blue eyes of the man beside her.

She was coming to realize that every post, every status update and private message, had been a form of foreplay between them. Now every touch, every smile and whisper, was taking their intimacy one step closer.

Her pussy tingled, and her nipples were hard enough she expected Zack couldn’t help noticing. More than once, his hand slipped beneath the table.

She envisioned the firm, thick erection she had occasionally seen tenting the front of his jeans all those years ago, now pressing up into the expensive dark linen of his beautiful blue suit.

Riiley Reid got even hotter, and more nervous, imaging his cock filling for her. “God, even these mints are good!” She laughed to distract her self when he popped one of the creamy pink squares into her mouth.

Zack wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Dewi Persik will be pleased to know you like her favorite ‘fancy restaurant.’”

She tipped her head, running her finger along the side of the hand cupping her face. “She knew you were bringing me here,” she said quietly.