Wilder

“Pick a good place, Leah. Brooke’s on her way,” Penna said with a smile. Then they headed off with a few of the track workers.

Renzo led us past the snack bar and up a set of stairs until we emerged on the bleachers. “What is that?” I asked Paxton as I pointed to a giant wooden…monstrosity.

“It’s a super ramp. We’re filming some shots here, and let’s face it, we need the practice if we’re going to pull off a live show in Abu Dhabi. It’s not like we have one of these on board.” He winked. “Relax, Firecracker, I’ll take you all the places you want to see tomorrow. I’ll even keep my sarcastic comments to myself while we listen to our prof on the Vatican tour.”

I shook my head and pointed to the giant deathtrap in front of me. “Um…is that safe?”

Renzo quietly excused himself.

Paxton took my hands and lifted one to his mouth, pressing a kiss into my palm. “Nothing I do is really safe. That’s why it’s extraordinary.”

You knew what he did. “Okay, well, I’ll pick a spot in the shade up there and study some physics. I got my ass handed to me on that quiz yesterday.”

“I’d hardly call a B getting your ass handed to you.”

“Well, that’s where we differ, Mr. Wilder. Besides, you never told me what you got. Do I need to be worried?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m pretty well versed in all the matters of physics…and physical matters, for what that’s worth.”

Heat rushed my cheeks, and it wasn’t the sun. It had been three days since Barcelona, since he’d asked me to make a choice, and I still hadn’t.

“Okay, well…go do whatever it is you do,” I said, waving him off toward the ramp of death.

“Do I get a good-luck kiss?” he asked after checking for cameras, his hands framing my waist.

“Paxton.” I tried to make it sound like a warning, but it came out too breathy, too wanting. For crying out loud, I couldn’t even control my own voice against this guy.

He squeezed lightly and then groaned. “Did I ever tell you that I love this dress?”

I shook my head. The spaghetti-strap maxi dress had been a last-minute choice, but Penna said she was going to burn all my pants if she saw me in them for the twenty-first day in a row.

He leaned down, his mouth against the shell of my ear. “I can feel every curve under my hands, which makes me pretty damn desperate to slide this up your legs and really get my hands on you. But I won’t. You know why?”

I shook my head.

“Because you haven’t said yes—yet—and I’m a goddamned gentleman.”

My fingers traced the lines of the Chinese symbol tattoos that ran up his neck, simply unable not to touch him. “Do I have to say yes to everything to get to kiss you?” I asked.

His breath stuttered. “Do you want to say yes?”

Our eyes met, and it would have been so easy to say it, to throw my hesitation overboard and jump. But that wasn’t me, and it didn’t matter that I was in a breezy dress under the Italian sun with the hottest extreme athlete on the planet, I was still…me. “I’m thinking about it.”

His forehead puckered for a millisecond before he relaxed and smoothed the line of my waist. “Then I think we can take yeses on a case-by-case basis.”

My heart pounded in anticipation.

“Leah, would you like me to kiss you?”

“Yes,” I answered instantly.

Our hips met first as he drew me in. My hands slipped down the edges of his T-shirt to grasp the inked lines of his biceps. Arms like his should be modeled, sculpted, revered…or maybe just outlawed.

“Do you want to kiss me?” I asked.

“Hell yes,” he answered, then brushed his mouth against mine once before settling over me.

I opened for him, and he dove in, his tongue filling my mouth while my ass filled his hands. Gentleman, indeed.

Kissing him was addictive—the world around us faded into nothingness, and all that existed was Paxton and the way he made me feel. I kissed him back with everything I had, reveling in his groan when I gently bit his lower lip.

He attacked again, this time taking full control of the kiss, cradling my head and angling me where he wanted, taking me off-balance so that he supported my weight. I moaned when he kissed me deeper, our tongues tangling, our breath ragged, the taste of him overwhelming every one of my senses.

“Leah, that sound will get you fucked,” he promised, his lips skimming my jawline.

“What happened to being a gentleman?” I asked, trying to remember where we were, or hell, even my last name.

“Being a gentleman, I’ll make sure you’ll come first, second, even third, if you’re up for it. After that, all bets are off as to gentlemanly behavior in my bed.”

Oh shit. Were those my panties walking away? Yup. “If I’m up for it?” I challenged, running my hands lightly through his thick hair. “You sure you could keep up?”

He laughed, the sound incredibly sexy. “I guess it’s good for you that I keep my body at peak physical condition, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm,” I agreed, as he nipped my earlobe.

“Paxton! We’re waiting on you, buddy!” Bobby called up.

Paxton groaned in my ear, and even though it was pure frustration, I couldn’t help but save the sound for a little mental playback later. “Fine!” he shouted over his shoulder.