" Paris came down the stairs looking incredible. He‘d gone with the simple classic look of the tight white T-shirt, the low-slung jeans that showed off a glimpse of his flat belly, and a black leather jacket. His hair was perfectly mussed, a calculated look that seemed natural and sexy. At the bottom of the staircase, he turned around slowly, holding his arms out to his sides. " Well, how do I look?" Damn. " Like I want to rip your clothes off right this second. You‘re gonna kill that kid. He‘s going to explode, and they‘re going to have to scrape his remains off the wall." " Yeesh, I was with you until you got descriptive." " Can‘t help it. You make me poetic." " I thought I made you horny." " Same damn thing. "