Page 93 of Landlord Wars
I put my hands on my hips. “My panties aren’t going to get put away if I go back to the bedroom.”
“I’ve decided being neat is overrated. Your panties want to be free, and I’m here to support their movement. Why don’t we start with the ones you’re wearing?” He sauntered toward me, all casual like, but there was intent behind his movements.
I giggle-screamed, and he chased me around the couch.
“They want to be free, so let’s help them,” he said, catching me by the waist and kissing my neck.
“You first!” I shouted and darted out of his reach.
He froze for all of a second, then started shucking his clothes.
At the first flash of Max’s naked skin, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped in his arms, but he’d been standing on one leg at the time, trying to get his pants and shirt off at the same time in his haste.
We fell back, and Max twisted so we landed on the couch.
“Ooof,” I said, then peered down at his shirt wrapped around his neck. “Can I help you with that?”
He winced. “I think I sprained something.”
“Please tell me it wasn’t your penis.”
The look of horror on his face was hilarious. “Don’t put those sorts of images in my head.” He rolled me over and kissed my mouth. “My body is in perfect working order—”
“I thought you said you sprained something.”
“—and I’m about to prove it.”
