Page 64 of What's in a Kiss?

“Hah!” I say. “I meant it as a joke. Obviously. We’re not going to...” I gulp. “Actually. Wear these. While—”

Jake rips off his sweatshirt, along with his T-shirt underneath. He pulls the knot loose on his sweatpants.

Then, my God, he’s naked, and the man is absolutely hung. Well before I’ve gotten a good enough look, he slides his new, ridiculous, butt-enhancing briefs up to his waist... letting his whole hot self tumble into the bulging satin pocket. The fabric clings to his thighs. I never knew male thighs could look so sensual, so curvy and compressed... now he’s turning to give me a view of his sculpted ass. And just wow.

As I stand gawking, Jake says, “Aren’t you going to put yours on?”

I’m so confused. We’re really going to attempt manual labor undressed like this? Set aside the awkwardness of hauling sod with next to nothing on, set aside the potential for sunburn on sensitive skin—how will it be possible to focus?

How will it be possible to avoid having sex?

I know we’re married, standing on our own secluded property, but I can’t help looking anxiously around me. Jake’s body is so obscene it must offend the trees.

“Your turn, sex bomb,” he says and smacks my ass.

I nod, wondering if he can tell I’m hyperventilating.

It’s basically a bathing suit bottom, I try assuring myself.Albeit one fit for a Brazilian supermodel.

And yet in this reality,Ibought this thong and its matching counterpart for Jake. I was game to wear it. Game to let Jakeseeme in it.

My chest feels like it’s on fire, and... funny thing: now would be a convenient time to change the underwear I have on. Because suddenly they’re wet.

“Here goes nothing,” I say under my breath. And then, under the cover of my thigh-length hoodie, I drop my pants, my cotton briefs. I step into the black silk thong.

Jake eyes me, hungrily, moving closer to tug on the sleeve of my hoodie. “Off she goes.”

“But I... there’s no top.”

He chews his bottom lip. “I guess the person in charge of costumes should have thought of that. Or maybe she did.”

I close my eyes. I slowly pull the hoodie up over my head. I stand before this very hot man in my insane thong and sheer white tank, feeling exposed enough for several female-produced soft-core pornos. I think about how if I take the next step and remove my shirt, that Jake and I may end up fucking into Tuesday.

I think about how if Idon’ttake off my shirt, we’ll have to discuss why. And perhaps he’ll find the truth—

I whip off my shirt. I let it fall to the ground. I look up at Jake.

Goose bumps rise on my bare skin. As his eyes run over my body, my nipples pinch so tight I gasp.

“You’re beautiful, Olivia,” he says.

Then his hand is on my waist, strong and warm and firm. And his mouth is almost on top of mine, and I can’t help closing my eyes, tilting my chin, and—

I hear a squirting sound. I open my eyes and see Jake... squeezing sunscreen into his palm.

“I don’t want your fine ass getting burned,” he says, his voice a rough whisper on my neck.

He takes his time rubbing the cool cream into my shoulders,his hands slowly warming my skin as they massage circles down my back, across my waist, over the rounded curves where the thong leaves my palest skin exposed. I hold my breath and try to relax into how good his touch feels, how well Jake seems to know my body, how not-weird all of this is for him. I let him guide me through the experience of being cared for, being protected by him, which leaves me breathless and a little shivery.

There’s something sweet about it, and many things sexy about it, and a wonderful dose of ordinary all at once. This, it seems, is our marriage in a nutshell. Hot and sweet and steady. And I think: this version of me sure is lucky.

When Jake’s hands trace up my stomach, adding more sunscreen as they find their way to the sensitive skin of my breasts, I can’t help moaning. I hear Jake moan, too, which may be the sexiest thing of all. The sound—one I’ve never heard him make—startles me back to reality. I take a step away, finishing the job of rubbing in the sunscreen myself.

“You okay?” he asks, as out of breath as I am. He tries again to put his arms around me.

I can’t do this. It’s too big. Not just the iron in his briefs, but all the implications. I put up a hand to stop him before he kisses me.

“Wait,” I whisper.

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