He laughed, and my world righted, bringing back my Paxton from the world of Wilder. “Yeah, I think I should do something about that.”

“I agree, especially since it’s just the two of us in that small house.”

“With one big bed,” he added, running his tongue over his lower lip.

One line and my body was practically singing with anticipation.

“Hey, Pax, your gear is stowed. I’m thinking about watching a movie. Anything you’re in the mood for?” Little John said as he walked over.

“Nah. Leah, you choose. I’ll be up after I shower.”

But ten minutes later, as I thumbed through Mrs. Wilder’s DVDs, all I could think about was Paxton’s naked body in the shower. Wet. Warm. I bet the water even traveled down those carved fuck-me lines.

I reached the end of the row and nearly fell over, distracted.

“I got my hands on the new Warren Miller. I bet he’d love that,” Little John said, coming from the hallway with a DVD case in hand.

“Yeah, I’ll go ask him,” I offered, and then nearly ran out the back door before he could say anything.

What the hell was wrong with me? I’d never been this distracted over a guy before. Sure, I liked sex…or what I remembered of it, but I’d never been the girl to jump a guy. You’ve never had orgasms like the one he gave you in Istanbul, either.

Well, there was that.

The shower was still running as I opened the door to the guesthouse. Paxton had lowered all the shades but the ones that looked out over the water, making the house feel like a warm, steamy cocoon.

I walked over to the bed and kicked off my sandals, then took the bandana from my hair, twisting the fabric in my hands. What was I going to do? Say, “Hey, maybe you could…I don’t know…do me?”

You even sound awkward to yourself.

Was this what I wanted? Yes. I wanted to feel him on top of me, to see the blue in his eyes darken with want, with need…for me. I wanted to be the sole focus of all that intense energy, to be the one who brought him to his knees.

I wanted Paxton because he was mine and I loved him.

That love didn’t scare me like I thought it would. No, it gave me wings, made me bold, ready to grasp every sensation I could, because I never imagined I’d be able to feel it again.

Yet here it was, and so much stronger than the first time.

Forgive me, Brian, but I know you would have wanted me to be happy.

The water stopped, but my pulse sped up. The shower door opened and closed, and my chest tightened. This would be easy. I could tell him that I was ready, and then we’d go watch the movie, and our good-night kiss wouldn’t end with a kiss.

It sounded so simple, so why was I such a bundle of oversensitive nerves? Even my soft V-neck tee felt scratchy against my skin.

Oh God, he didn’t know I was here. What if he came out naked?

I spun, turning my back to him when I saw movement in the doorway. “Hey, I’m in here,” I called out. So not sexy. Why couldn’t I have an ounce of Rachel’s sex appeal, her complete ease around guys? Or just her advice?

Because you’re here…on Mykonos, with the most insanely hot guy you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Hey,” Paxton called out behind me.

“Are…” I took a deep breath and tried again. “Are you naked?”

“No, but I can be,” he answered.

I pivoted, turning slowly to face him.

Oh fuck me, he may as well have been. A single white towel hung off his lean hips, held in place by a pesky little knot. His hair was damp, and tiny droplets of water clung to his tattooed skin, traveling the lines of his muscles as gravity commanded.

Every single cell in my body screamed with wanting him.

He was every fantasy. Every bad boy I’d been warned against. Every athlete I’d ever admired. Every prom king and every outlaw at the same time. He was the untouchable, the answer to every love letter I’d never gotten, and the only cure for the ache that was steadily growing, unfurling in my stomach. And for some reason I’d never understand, Paxton Wilder was looking at me like I was dessert.

“Leah?” He lifted his hands above his head, grasping the doorframe.

Every single muscle in his abs flexed. Every. One.

Was he even human?

“Firecracker, is everything okay?”

I nodded, trying to find my voice. “I wanted to see you.”

“Okay.” His voice dropped, but his hands stayed where they were.

“I just… I wanted to…” I shook my head. “Last night you kissed me.”

A smirk danced across his face. “Yeah, and this morning. I plan on doing that a lot.”

I twisted the bandana in my hands. “Right. But is that all?”

“Is that bothering you? I didn’t move in here with you expecting sex, Leah. I didn’t ask you to be with me so I could screw you.” His face tightened.

“No, no. That’s not what I’m thinking.” Why was this so hard? “I’m asking if you want to do more than kiss me.”

Now every muscle in his torso strained. “Is that what you want?”

He sounded so damn calm, and I was a huge wreck. How fair was that? And he hadn’t even moved from the doorframe. A shred of self-doubt crept in. “Only if you do.”

His eyes went almost comically big. “Only if I do? Are you kidding me? The memory of how you feel under my hands goes through my head about every fifteen seconds. There’s no question there.”