She led him to the stairs where he followed her to the second floor.

"There's the bathroom," she said. "I'll get some towels for you." She went to the closet.

When Lyla carried an armful of folded towels down the hallway toward the bathroom, she was surprised to find the door open. Jack had removed his sweater and t-shirt. He stood at the sink bare-chested washing his hands and face.

She froze as she admired his six-pack abs, his broad chest and shoulders, and his muscular arms.

Yes, please.

She couldn't stop gawking.

"I brought some antiseptic for your—"

He waved her off. "It's nothing," he said. "I'm all better...ish." He dried his face with the towel.

"Do you ever think about it?"

"That's my problem. I can't ever stop thinking about it."

"No, I mean about you and me." Her voice fell. She leaned in to kiss him, but Jack withdrew.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

He looked away. "I'm just not sure how I'm feeling right now," he sighed.

"About me?"

She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and gazed up at him longingly. A moment of tension lingered before he leaned forward and lightly kissed her.

All the desire that had been building up in Lyla's aching heart exploded in kiss after kiss. Gentle kisses gave way to open mouths. She breathed so deeply, that she was afraid she might hyperventilate.

He bit her neck lightly, his hands roamed from her back to her gentle curves. Their eyes met. When he pulled Lyla against him, his body felt like it had been carved from stone.

She opened her mouth, brought her lips to his. Another series of kisses that further awakened her deepest desires.

She gently bit his ear. "Take me to my bed," she whispered.

She nestled against his firm chest when he lifted her off her feet. She couldn't stop kissing him, she never wanted to stop. This would be the single greatest night of her life, or so that's what she imagined at that intensely passionate moment.

He placed her on the bed and lie beside her. Lips met and parted, clothes were discarded like candy wrappers.

She loved his scent. In each other's arms, they fit together so perfectly. She opened her eyes to see the most perfect human specimen she'd ever laid eyes on looking down at her, a smoky glaze of desire in his eyes.

"Maybe we shouldn't..." He started a sentence that he wouldn't finish. "I shouldn't let this happen. There's so much going on in my life right now."

"This is what I want," she murmured breathlessly. "I want to know how it would be with you." She kissed him gently.

They were horrified when they heard the front door open. Lyla jolted to a seated position.

"Oh, shit!" Jack whispered. "It's your dad." He rolled out of bed and threw on his pants as quickly as he could.

She pulled her top on over her head then reached for her jeans on the floor. They could hear footsteps downstairs.

Lyla's phone rang, scaring the hell out of her. When she checked the incoming call her eyes went wide. It was her dad!

She answered, "Hey, Dad." She did her best to sound normal.

Dad?! Jack whipped around, his eyes thick with fear.

"You need a ride home from Darcy's party?" Jack could hear her dad's voice through the phone. "I'm leaving work now."

"I'm at home. Thanks." She gulped, her hands trembling uncontrollably.

Her dad sensed trouble. "Are you all right?"

"Uh-huh," she replied.

"See you in a while." He ended the call.

Lyla and Jack turned toward the bedroom doorway when they heard an inhuman moaning emanating from the first floor. A ferocious burst of wind blasted up the stairway, determined to take the bedroom door off its hinges.