Page 65 of What's in a Kiss?

“Must I quote Mistress Cherise?” Jake asks, his breath on my neck again, murdering my resolve. “ ‘Sex is not to be avoided.’ ”

I know I’m meant to laugh at his Transylvanian-style Mistress Cherise accent, but as I look over the railing, down to the tree line of my real-life house, I say a little prayer for myself.That I can make it through this day without surrendering to my desire for Jake.

“First, we work,” I make myself say. “Then we play.”

“I’ve never known you to be one for delayed gratification,” Jake says, taking a step back, allowing me to catch my breath. “But you’re right, it’ll be hotter that way.”

••••••

An hour later,Jake has hauled the soil across the deck, while I pruned our basil plants and weeded our budding tomatoes in their raised beds. We’ve had fun getting to know the power hose, made crumbs of the Pink’s hot dogs, and I’ve committed myself to a long future of exhibitionism, which I had no idea was so exciting. I didn’t know I could be this comfortable almost naked, let alone this aroused. And since no actual sex has been had, I haven’t broken any cosmic rules.

Yes, there were moments when we first started, when I couldn’t help wondering if my breasts looked weird from Jake’s angle, if my bikini line was groomed enough for this thong—and by the way,nobikini line can be groomed enough for this thong. But every time I caught Jake looking at me, there was so much tender longing in his gaze—part comfortable possessiveness, part unknown thrill—that I soon let all inhibitions go. Which, honestly, I’ve never done while naked with a man before. Even while having some of what I considered very good sex, I’ve still been a whole lot in my head.

But I’m not in my head today. I’m in my body. My comfortable, titillated, nearly naked body. And it feels good.

Soon, we’ve made our way through a flat of tender seedlings, gently ushering dill and tarragon into nourishing new homes. The sun is getting hot, but every time I look over and see my High Life husband’s spectacular ass—and see him checking out mine—I get a renewed burst of energy.

I pat down one last seedling into soil, moving in time to “Octopus’s Garden.”

Our sun-warmed shoulders kiss. It feels as if the whole deck is vibrating with desire. Jake hands me a damp towel to brush the soil off my hands and his elbows. Then, playfully, I brush some invisible soil off his pec, and he reaches around to brush a little off my left cheek. Then my other left cheek. He takes my hand, and we stand up and step into each other’s arms. And it feels right. Too right for me to question. Too right for me to rationalize.

“Break time,” Jake says, his voice a sexy growl.

Want fills my entire body, but then, I glance over his shoulder at the hill that leads to my home. My real home. I remember my goal and force myself to step away again.

“I was thinking happy hour?” I throw out.

Jake laughs and looks at his watch. “Already?”

“Do you like piña coladas?”

Jake raises an eyebrow. “I like making love at midnight.”

“Perfect.” I back toward the kitchen. “I’ll go whip up a batch.”

He looks at me sideways, laughs again.

“What?” I demand.

“You’re seriously suggesting that you, Oliva Dusk, are goingto walk inside our house, enter our kitchen, and ‘whip up a batch’ of piña coladas?”

“Um, yes?”

“What’s the first thing you need to do?”

“Find the rum?”

“Then?”

“Crack a coconut?”

“You’re adorable,” Jake says and kisses me on the head. “I’ll do it.”

I should be happy to have some time to think, to have a little physical space from the man I’m trying to resist. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling somehow more naked now that Jake is gone. I need to find a way to wrap up Deck Day without wrapping my legs around Jake. Is it cruel to call my assistant on a weekend, to see if her sister found Yogi Dan? Where do nudists keep their phones?

Jake steps out from the sliding door, still wearing his briefs, now accessorized with an untied red silk robe. He has a second matching robe draped over one arm—for me. Genius.That’swhere nudists keep their phones. He’s holding a tray bearing two frozen white cocktails.

I let him slip the robe over my shoulders, but leave it untied like Jake has done with his. After so long without clothes, the brush of silk against my skin is as erotic as everything else today has been. I really need a drink.

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