Best Friend Bride

But it was too late. Her gaze landed square on his mouth as if she was reliving the kiss, too. Not the nice and unexpectedly sweet kiss at the wedding ceremony. But the hot, tongue-on-tongue kiss outside her bedroom when they’d been practicing being a couple. The necessity of that practice had waned since his family had bought the marriage hook, line and sinker. Sure, they still had to get through her family, but he wasn’t worried about it, racy lingerie gifts aside.

Now the only reason to ever kiss Viv again would be because he couldn’t stop himself.

Which was the worst reason he could think of. And keep thinking about, over and over again.

“I don’t think it was weirdness, Jonas,” she murmured.

Instantly, he wished there was still some circumstance that required her to call him Mr. Kim. Why that was such a turn-on remained a mystery to him. But really, everything about Viv was a turn-on. Her laugh. Her cupcakes. The way her hair lay so shiny and soft against her shoulders.

“Trust me, it was weird,” he muttered. “I gave myself entirely too many inappropriate thoughts with that kiss.”

And that was the danger of being lulled back into a false sense of security with the sociable, uneventful dinner. He’d fallen into friendship mode, where he could say anything on his mind without consequence.

The admission that had just come out of his mouth was going to have consequences.

Her smile went from zero to sixty in less than a second and all at once, he wasn’t sure the consequences were going to be anything close to what he’d envisioned. She waltzed even closer and reached up to adjust his tie in a provocative move that shouldn’t have been as affecting as it was.

The tie hadn’t needed adjusting. The knot was precisely where he’d placed it hours ago when he’d gotten dressed for work. It slid down a few centimeters and then a few more as she loosened it.

Loosened it. As if she intended to take it off.

But she stopped short of committing, which was good. Really...good. He swallowed as she speared him with her contemplative gaze, her hands still at his collar in an intimate touch. She was so close he could pull her into his arms if he wanted to.

He wanted to. Always.

Dinner hadn’t changed that.

“The thing is, Jonas,” she said. “I’ve had some thoughts, too. And if yours are the same as mine, I’m trying to figure out why they’re inappropriate.”

She flattened her hands on his lapels. The pressure sang through him and it would feel even better if he didn’t have a whole suit jacket and two shirts between her palms and his skin.

The direction of this conversation floored him. And if she kept it up, the floor was exactly where they were going to end up.

“What are you saying, Viv?” he asked hoarsely, scrambling to understand. “That you lie awake at night and think about that kiss, aching to do it again?”

She nodded and something so powerful swept through his body that he could hardly breathe. This was the opposite of what should be happening. She should be backing off and citing her inability to focus on a man and her career at the same time. She was too busy, too involved in her business to date. This was the absolute he’d banked on for long agonizing hours, the thing that was keeping him from indulging in the forbidden draw between them.

Because if he gave in, he’d have no control over what happened next. That certainty had already been proven with what little they’d experimented so far. More would be catastrophic.

And so, so fantastically amazing.

“After tonight, I’m convinced we’re missing an opportunity here,” she said, her voice dripping with something sensual that he’d never have expected from his sunny friend Viviana Dawson. Kim.

Viv wasn’t his friend. She was his wife. He’d been ignoring that fact for an entire day, but it roared back to the forefront with an implication he couldn’t ignore. Except he didn’t know what it meant to him, not really. Not just a means to an end, though it was an inescapable fact that she’d married him as a favor.

And he wanted to exploit that favor to get her naked and under him? It was improper, ridiculous. So very illicit that his body tightened with thick anticipation.

“What opportunity is that?” he murmured, letting his gaze flick over her face, searching for some sign that the answer about to come out of her mouth was not a green light to get naked.

Because he’d have a very difficult time saying no. In fact, he couldn’t quite remember why he should say no. He shouldn’t say no. If nothing else, taking this next step meant he wasn’t lying to anyone about their marriage.

Her limpid brown eyes locked on to his. “We’re both too busy to date. And even if we weren’t, I have a feeling that ‘oh, by the way, I’m married’ isn’t a great pickup line. You said it yourself. We spark. If our friendship can take a kiss, maybe it can take more. We should find out.”

More. He liked the word more a lot. Especially if her dictionary defined it as lots and lots of sex while maintaining their friendship. If things got too intense, he could back off with no harm, no foul. It was like the absolute best of all worlds.

Unless that wasn’t what she meant.

Clarification would be in order, just to be sure they were speaking the same language. “More?”