Page 60 of Merciful Lies

I have to tell her. And soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE-ANNA

Dinner was sublime.

We started with tri-color salad and fried calamari. Then, we both had the lobster raviolo in a light cream sauce, followed by a rack of lamb and steamed broccolini.

Everything was delicious. Dessert, though. That was the best.

Nico spoon fed me blood-orange sorbet and I could have cried at how romantic it all was. He moved our chairs close, so close I felt his body pressed into my side.

The suit he wore fit him like a second skin expertly tailored to his muscular frame. I love the way his white silk shirt contrasted with his tattoos.

The thick multi-colored ink is so damn sexy, I can’t get enough of it. Of him.

I thought I might fall asleep in the car on the way home, but I don’t.

I’m sitting up in bed, wearing a tiny slip of a nightgown. It’s a shimmery nude material that really leaves nothing to the imagination.

Maybe that’s why I am wearing it and nothing else.

I leave off my panties and squirm on top of the bed, biting my lip as I wait for my husband.

I have the blankets turned down, and even though the AC is on full blast I feel overheated.

Nico said he was going to get a glass of water, but it’s been a few minutes. I wonder if he got sidetracked by something.

Maybe the bar fight with Luc?

I frown, about to get up when the door to our bedroom opens and Nico strolls in.

Holy. Fuck.

I am really glad I’m still sitting for this.

Nico’s eyes are glued to mine. The bright blue is electric and blazing with need. And I tremble.

That look is for me.

His need.

His desire.

That hungry look in his eyes.

It’s all for me.

I feel my body respond.

Moisture pools between my legs, my nipples pebble as my breasts swell, and an aching sort of pang twists inside me.

Nico comes to stand at the foot of the bed. He is wearing nothing at all. And I am captivated.

My gaze rakes over him from head to foot. My husband is a gorgeous specimen of man. He’s so, so big.

Everywhere. He is just huge. His body is corded in thick ropes of muscle. His tattooed skin is on full display, and I already have so many of the designs memorized.

But I want to know them all. I want to trace them with my fingers and my tongue.

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