In Name Only. Kat Cantrell
bad thing to be thinking about. There was a part of him that couldn’t believe Viv would be dangerous to his mental state. But the risks were too great, especially to their friendship. They’d gone a whole year without being tempted. What was different now? Proximity? Awareness? The fact that he’d already kissed her and couldn’t undo the effect on his body every time he got within touching distance of her?
That one.
Sleeping with her in the bed was going to be torture. He really didn’t know if he had it in him. Probably the best thing to do was sleep on the couch in the living room and set an alarm for something ridiculous like 5:00 a.m. Then he could go for a jog and come back like he’d slept in Viv’s bed all night long. Of course he’d never jogged in his life...but he could start. Might burn off some of the awareness he couldn’t shake.
That was the best plan. He headed back to the bedroom they shared to tell her.
But when he eased open the door and slipped inside, she was still in the bathroom. He settled onto the bed to wait, next to her open suitcase. There was literally no reason for him to glance inside other than it was right there. Open. With a frothy bunch of racy lingerie laid out across the other clothes.
Holy crap. Jonas’s eyes burned the longer he stared at the thin straps and drapes of lace. Was that the top? Viv’s breasts were supposed to be covered by that? Something that skimpy should be illegal. And red. But the lace was lemon yellow, the color of the frosting Viv slathered all over the cupcakes she always brought him when they had lunch. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting Viv through all that lace. It would be easy. The pattern would show 90 percent of her skin.
The little panties lay innocuously to the side as if an afterthought. Probably because there wasn’t enough lace making up the bottom half of the outfit to rightfully call them panties. He could picture them perfectly on his wife’s body and he could envision slowly stripping them off even more vividly.
Wait. What was Viv doing with such smoking-hot lingerie?
Was she planning to wear it for him? His brain had no ability to make sense of this revelation. She’d brought lingerie. To wear. Of course the only man in the vicinity was Jonas. Who else would she be wearing it for?
That was totally against the rules.
And totally against what he was capable of giving her in this marriage. She might as well drape herself in hearts and flowers. Viv clearly thought love was a recipe for marriage. Stir well and live happily ever after. He wasn’t the right ingredient for that mix.
The sound of running water being shut off rattled through the walls. Viv had just emerged from the shower. He should get the hell out of that bedroom right now. But before he could stand, she walked out of the bathroom holding a towel loosely around her body. Her naked body. She was still wet. His gaze traced the line of one drop as it slid down her shoulder and disappeared behind the towel.
“Oh. I didn’t know you’d come back,” she announced unnecessarily as he was reasonably certain she wouldn’t have waltzed into the room mostly naked if she’d known he was sitting on the bed.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and meant to avert his eyes but the towel had slipped a little, which she’d done nothing to correct.
Maybe she wanted him to catch a glimpse of her perfect breasts. Not that he knew for sure that they were perfect. But the little half-moon slices peeking above the towel flashed at him more brightly than a neon sign, and his whole body went up in flames.
Anything that powerful at only a quarter strength had to be perfect in its entirety.
“Did you want to take a turn in the bathroom?” she asked casually. Still standing there. Wet. In a towel. Naked.
“Uh, sure.” He didn’t stand. He should cross the room and barricade himself in the bathroom, where it wouldn’t matter if she’d used all the hot water because the shower needed to be glacial.
“Okay. Can you give me two minutes? I need to dry my hair.” And then she laughed with a little peal that punched him the gut. “Normally I would wrap it up in the towel but there are only two and I didn’t want to hog them all.”
Then she pulled on the edge of the towel, loosening it from the column it formed around her body and lifted the tail end to the ends of her dripping hair. A long slice of skin peeked through the opening she’d unwittingly created and the answering flash of heat that exploded in his groin would have put him on his knees if he’d been standing. Good thing he hadn’t moved.
“You should get dressed,” he suggested, but she didn’t hear him because his voice wasn’t working. Besides, dressed could have a lot of different meanings, and the frothy yellow concoction in her suitcase appeared to be the next outfit of choice. If she hadn’t been planning to slip it on, it wouldn’t be on top, laid out so carefully.
Oh, man. Would she have been wearing it when he got into bed later? No warning, just bam!
He should pretend he hadn’t seen the yellow concoction. How else could he find out if that had been her plan? That had to be her plan. Please, God, let it be her plan.
He was so hard, it was a wonder his erection hadn’t busted out of his zipper.
Clearing his throat, he tested out speaking again. “I can come back.”
That, she heard. “Oh, you don’t have to. Really, I’ve taken way too long already. We’re sharing and I’m not used to that. The shower was lovely and I couldn’t help standing there under the spray, just letting my mind drift.”
Great. Now his mind was drifting—into the shower with her as she stood there. Naked. Letting the water sluice down her body, eyes closed with a small, rapturous smile gracing her face.
He groaned. What was he doing to himself?
“Are you okay?” Her attention honed in on him and she apparently forgot she wasn’t wearing anything but a damp towel because she immediately crossed the room to loom over him, her expression laced with concern.
It would take less than a second to reach out and snag her by the waist, pulling her down into his lap. That towel would fall, revealing her perfect breasts, and they’d be right there, ripe and available to taste. No yellow concoction needed. But that would be criminal. She should get to wear her newlywed lingerie if she wanted.
“Oh.” Viv blushed all at once, the pink stain spreading across her cheeks, and Jonas could not tear his eyes off her face. But she was staring at the open suitcase. “You didn’t see that ridiculous thing Grace gave me, did you?”
She picked up the yellow lacy top and held it up to her body, draping it over the towel one-handed, which had the immediate consequence of smooshing her breasts higher. “Can you imagine me wearing this?”
With absolute, brilliant clarity.
“I don’t know what she was thinking,” Viv continued as if his entire body wasn’t poised to explode. “‘Open this with Jonas,’ she says with a sly wink. I thought it was going to be a joke, like a gravy boat, and besides, this isn’t a real marriage, so I didn’t think you’d actually want to help open gifts. Sorry I didn’t wait for you.”
She rolled her eyes with another laugh that did not help things down below.
“That’s okay. Next time.” What was he saying? Sure, I’ll help open future gifts full of shockingly transparent clothing that would make a porn star blush? “Your sister meant well. She doesn’t know we’re not sleeping together.”
Or rather they weren’t yet. In a scant few minutes, they’d be in the bed. Together. Maybe some sleeping would occur but it wasn’t looking too likely unless he got his body cooled down to something well below its current thermonuclear state.
“Well, true. But obviously she expects us to be hot and heavy, right? I mean, this is the kind of stuff a woman wears for a man who can’t keep his hands off her.” Suddenly, she swept him with a glance that held a glittery sort of challenge. “We should