It Wasn't Me - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,30

he watched my every move.

I paused with my pants halfway over my ass.

“What?” I licked my suddenly dry lips.

“Don’t stop,” he ordered. “Please.”

The rasp in his voice had my knees nearly knocking together.

But I didn’t stop undressing.

Slowly pushing my jeans down my overly well-endowed butt and thighs, I didn’t stop until I reached my ankles.

Unfortunately for me, there was no sexy way to get my skinny jeans off. There was likely someone out there that managed the feat while still looking sexy, but regrettably, this was the only way that I could get them off.

Sitting down on the bed, I hooked my fingers into the hem and stretched them so they fit over my heels. Then, when both sides were done, I stood back up and folded them nicely.

“You’re going to hate living with me,” he said softly. “You’re going to take one look at my bedroom and scream.”

I had a feeling I just might based solely on the way his suitcase looked right then.

When I’d gotten a glimpse of his packing job this morning, it’d made me smile.

Now, with him standing next to it and it being not with sleepy eyes, I saw that he had literally everything wadded up with no organization to it whatsoever.

I put my hands on my hips, bringing his attention once again to my lower half.

“You have beautiful thighs,” he said. “And calves. And an ass.”

I swallowed hard.

“Take the top off,” he breathed.

I didn’t wait for him to repeat himself. Instead, I pulled first one arm out, then the other, before slipping the shirt off of my head without once turning it inside out.

His mouth twitched.

“The way you so nicely took all of your clothes off and then folded them up before setting them in your suitcase?” he teased. “I can’t even tell which ones are worn.”

That was the entire point, at least for me.

There was no reason that a place should be untidy. At least, not a good enough reason for me to ever do it myself.

“Your pants,” he said. “They’re folded like they would be at a department store. And your shirt? I’ve never seen anyone fold a shirt like that. You even folded your socks.”

I felt my belly tighten at his utter intenseness.

He missed nothing.

“My sister was really messy when we were growing up,” I told him. “It drove me insane, so I controlled my half of the space as well as I could.”

He grunted something that had me glancing up at his eyes.

“What?” I asked him to repeat it. “What did you say?”

“I said that your body is like a goddamn dream,” he said. “And I was being serious earlier. You don’t look like you don’t do arms. Everything is toned and beautiful, and I want to run my mouth over every square inch of your skin.”

I licked my lips. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He took his time crossing the room, and as he did, he too stripped himself of his clothes.

By the time he reached me, the only thing he had left covering his body was a pair of boxer briefs.

A pair of boxer briefs that were doing too well of a job confining his massive erection.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he came to a stop in front of me. Close enough to touch, but too far away to feel his heat.

“I’m trying to decide if I should play nice,” he admitted.

I felt my belly start to tickle.

“What does ‘playing nice’ mean?” I asked.

“Well,” he said softly. “Playing nice means that I’ll kiss you. Fuck you. Press my mouth to yours.”

I didn’t see anything wrong with that at all.

“What does playing dirty mean?” I pushed.

“Playing dirty is kind of like playing nice,” he admitted. “Only, it’s a lot more fun.”

My lips curved up into a small smile.

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I’ve never been known as a ‘nice girl.’”

His lips twitched. “No?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve been known as a wild child since my feet touched the ground.”

He took a step toward me, and my heart started to jackhammer against my chest.

“Take your bra off, Piper,” he ordered. “And lose the panties.”

This time I wasn’t nearly as careful about the state of my bra or panties when I took them off. Later, it’d bother me that I’d taken my underwear off inside out. It’d also bother me that both had hit the floor.

But with those words coming out of Jonah’s raspy mouth, I stood no chance.

I was highly attracted to my husband.

I craved order.

And,