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Nine
Jake wondered if he was dreaming. He’d had a number of vivid dreams about Nikki Reardon over the years. With color and sound and all the visuals he could handle. But tonight was different. She stood at his elbow in the elevator, her gaze downcast, her fair skin tinted with a noticeable flush.
When the elevator stopped on his floor, they both got out, but still he didn’t touch her. His hand shook as he tapped his key card on the electronic panel and waited for the tiny light to turn green.
Inside, he turned on lamps and kicked up the heat a couple of notches.
“This suite is amazing,” Nikki said.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Suddenly, he found himself looking at the room through her eyes. He wasn’t the neatest traveler. His laptop was plugged in on the desk by the window with papers scattered nearby. His suitcase was open on a luggage stand revealing his tumbled clothing.
For a man who traveled constantly, he’d never had any interest in being anal about organization. He was more likely to toss things in and hope for the best. His system hadn’t failed him yet.
Now that he finally had Nikki within ten feet of his bed, his brain seized up and threatened to shut down. He was hard all over. And breathless. A thirty-seven-year-old man who could barely speak.
“Um,” he said, as he undid his tie and tossed it aside with his jacket. “Would you like something to drink?”
Nikki set the desserts on a table and removed her coat. “I’d rather not. That’s what got us into trouble in Atlantic City. If we’re doing this, I want to be all in, not woozy.”
“Fair enough.” So much for smoothing anyone’s nerves with alcohol. “There’s an extra robe in the bathroom. If you’d like to get comfortable.”
She kicked off her sexy high heels and padded across the room to where he stood. “I kind of thought you’d be the one getting me out of my clothes.”
Holy hell. “Nikki...” He nearly swallowed his tongue when she placed her small hand, palm flat on his chest, right over his heart. Her fingers burned his skin through the expensive fabric of his dress shirt.
She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I have a babysitter on the clock. And I’m interested.” She hesitated. “Have I shocked you?”
“Lord no.” He lifted her off her feet and walked toward the bed, her legs dangling. When he set her down, the smile she gave him fried a few more synapses. “I didn’t think this would happen tonight,” he said. “Or ever. Forgive me if I’m off my game.”
She ran her hands through his hair while he reached behind her to unbutton her skirt and lower the zipper. What he saw then paralyzed him even more. Nikki stepped out of the skirt casually, as if undressing for an audience was no big deal.
The lacy white garter belt, thong panties and silky stockings she wore were pure fantasy. He touched her warm thigh. “Damn, Nik. If I’d known you were hiding this, we’d have skipped dinner altogether.”
Her small smile was smug. The little tease was enjoying his discomfiture. “I ordered all of it online after you left my house Wednesday. I’m glad you approve.”
He removed her sweater next, lifting it over her head, trying not to mess up her hair. The bra he found matched the rest of her undies. Except that it had a panel of fine mesh on the top edge that revealed her raspberry nipples.
With his heart slugging in his chest, he scooped her up in his arms, folded back the covers one-handed and laid her gently on the bed. “Don’t move,” he croaked.
He began to strip with a marked lack of coordination, tossing pieces of clothing wildly until he was down to his black knit boxers.
Nikki no longer smiled. Her gaze fixed raptly on his erection, outlined in stretchy cloth. “You are a beautiful man, Jake Lowell,” she said softly. “I thought I might have embroidered the memory of you naked, but it seems not.”
He dispensed with his underwear and joined her on the bed.
When he touched her, he understood that time really could stand still. The room was hushed. Traffic noise from the street below barely penetrated his consciousness.
He ran his fingers through Nikki’s golden-red tresses, spreading her hair on the pillows. She was a sensual woman. A siren. A goddess.
He refused to dwell on his grief for the years he had missed.
Timing. It all came down to timing.
“Jake?” She said his name softly, with concern. As if she could sense his turmoil. “Are you okay?”
He nodded slowly, running one hand from her shoulder to her belly to her silken-clad legs. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I’m good.” He removed the panties but left everything else in place. When he played with her nipples through the bra, she moaned and arched off the bed. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyelids fluttered shut.
