Maia came out of the bathroom, her skin still damp from her shower. She pulled on the robe and cinched the belt tight. She must be losing her mind to consider a booty call. But smoldering Zach "Dog" Shepherd coming into her life after she'd put her coyote plan in place, couldn't be a coincidence. It was like it had been sanctioned by Oprah.

So, how did a booty call work exactly? Did Maia knock on his door and announce she'd come to claim her kisses? He'd gone to all the trouble of making a list. Seemed a bit unfair to let it go to waste.

She shimmied into a pair of vermillion lace bikinis, then removed the robe and slid her arms into the matching bra.

She glared at the three outfits hanging on the closet door. Damn, if she'd not sworn off men weeks earlier, she would have made better choices. But now, all she had to work with was the dress she'd worn to the party, two pairs of pants, a skirt, and her puffy red jacket. The rest was black. What was she thinking?

She pulled the robe back on, strolled to the connecting door to Silbie's room, and dramatically flung it open. "I have nothing to wear."

Silbie looked up from the script she was reading and smiled. "I have just the thing." She pointed to the closet. "Powder blue off the shoulder sweater dress. Nothing to unbutton or zip. Just slide it down over your hips. You got some sexy underwear?"

Maia nodded, then slumped onto the bed. "Am I crazy?"

"No. I think you're tired of being a 'good' girl. Living in a small town in Texas where everyone knows your business is exhausting. Every now and then, you want to do something wild and crazy. At least, I do."

Silbie was right. Maia was weary of always doing the right thing and getting nothing in return. Her god-fearing churchy parents had expected to act a certain way, and she'd spent her life fulfilling that obligation.

She slipped the dress on, then posed in front of the mirror. "Its form fitting."

"Yeah," she grinned. "He'll love it."

"I don't know," Maia rubbed the soft, knitted material idly between her fingers. "Maybe I need to rethink this. It's just—no guy has ever affected me this way."

"I was being flippant when I said you should just fuck him. If you want to get to know him better, invite him to join you for a drink. He seems like a nice guy, so I don't think he expects anything more."

Maia stood and smoothed her hands over the dress. "You're right. I'm overthinking this because of the whole shepherd scenario. I'll see you later."

Back in her room, Maia gazed into the bathroom mirror and fidgeted with liquid liner to create a decent matching cat-eye. If she wanted to do something crazy—totally out of character—wild and wicked—with a guy she'd never see again, this was her chance. Why not? People did it all the time. So why couldn't her head just shut up for just one night? Wasn't like anyone in Parkers Prairie would ever know.

Her abuela always said, 'doubt means don't.' Was Maia doubting what she wanted—or her inadequacy? While she only had three sexual partners on her resume, Zach traveled the world and probably had a woman in every port.

She straightened her shoulders and heaved a deep breath. She was doing this. Yeah. She was pretty sure she was. Okay, maybe she'd just stroll down the hall toward his room, and if he happened to come out, then that would be a sign she'd made the right decision.

But what if he didn't? Why would he? Did she think he was telepathic and would cosmically know she was outside his door? Okay. Still overthinking. Just do it.

She grabbed the ice bucket, slipped her key card and phone inside her bra, and then rushed into the hallway before she could change her mind. She leaned against the door, closed her eyes, drew two more breaths, and headed down the corridor.

It was empty except for two men. One she didn't recognize, and one who'd approached her at the party. What was his name? Brian? Yeah. Thank goodness she'd brought the ice bucket. Wouldn't want them to know she was on a mission to bone their leader.

As she approached, they stopped talking and locked their eyes on her. She smiled and willed her voice to remain steady. "Good evening."

They stepped forward and stopped her in her tracks.

"Guess you're feeling better," Brian said.

She nodded absently. "Yeah, much. Excedrin works wonders."

The stranger walked forward. Invaded her space.

She moved backward until she bumped the wall, and dropped the ice bucket, the metal clanking to the floor.

He leaned in close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. It reminded her vaguely of Christmas trees. "Noticed you at the party. You changed clothes. I like this outfit better." He lifted his hand toward her face.

She closed her eyes.

"You lay a hand on her, and it will be the last thing you do," Zach said.

She blinked.

The guy held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, dog. Didn't know you'd staked a claim."

"Doesn't matter, she's clearly not interested." Then Zach focused those menacing baby blues on her, and they softened. He slid his arm around her waist and smiled down at her. "I've been counting the minutes until you got here."

Good thing she had his arm for support because her knees weakened. God, she was pathetic. This was straight out of some cringey rom-com.

He picked up the ice bucket, then guided her into his room. "You okay?"

Unable to find her voice, she nodded.

"Good. He wouldn't have hurt you. Just had a little too much to drink. He's pushy."

She tore her eyes from his and stared at her shoes for a second. "I was on my way to the bar to get a drink. I'd better go."

He cocked his head, grinned, and held up the container. "But yet, you have an ice bucket."

Her brain scrambled. "Oh. Yeah. That's for Silbie. I was getting her some ice before I went. I am her assistant, you know."

His smile widened. "And also a terrible liar."

She slumped down onto his bed and buried her face in her hands. "You're right. I am. I wasn't going to the bar. I wasn't even going to get ice." She elevated her voice and punctuated the air with her finger. "I'm a good Presbyterian. My abuelo was a preacher, and now my dad is... I don't know what's wrong with me. Why am I even telling you this?"

She came to her feet and paced. "It's your name. I mean, I have this theory about how I always want the shepherd but get the coyote, and then you show up, and you're both."

Zach opened his mouth to speak, but she waved him off. She tried to stop her head from bobbing, but something had taken control of her. "Then you said I was the most beautiful woman in the room, which is clearly a lie because I wasn't, but I loved hearing it. And, then you mentioned the kiss list." She jerked her head. "Oh, wow. That sounds like a movie title. I should tell Silbie. Maybe someone could write a screenplay for her." Maia shook her head, dispelling the rampant, nonsensical thoughts. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. The list. I couldn't get that out of my head."

He hesitantly wrapped her into his arms, and she rested her head on his chest. He had to think she was nuts because she was. She couldn't remember everything she'd said, but most of it probably didn't make sense. Any second, he'd show her the door. Instead, he angled away from her and planted a quick smooch on her lips.

"Number one. The peck," he said. "No touching but on the lips."

That wasn't good news because she wanted him to touch her. Everywhere.

"Two, side to side." He brushed one corner of her mouth, then the other.

"Three, I call first kiss. We press our closed lips together."

She couldn't move. She didn't want to. She let him decide how long the kiss should last.

"Four. Transition."

This time, when their lips parted, he created a little bit of suction. Wow. That's all she could think. Just wow.

"Five," he tapped her chin. "This is where things start to get interesting. I turn my head at a 90-degree angle so our lips crisscross."

She whispered a soft ooh, as he worked his magic. Lord, he was only half-way through the list, and she wanted to rip off his clothes.

"Six. Experienced. This one will be more intense." He sucked her upper lip.

Lord Almighty.

"Number seven. Double trouble."

She took a shallow breath. Nothing sounded better than double trouble.

He worked her upper and bottom lip with that same gentle mind-blowing suction. He still wasn't touching her anywhere. And as much as she wanted to crawl all over him, she was paralyzed by lust.

"Eight. Drag and land." He started at her cheek, dragged his lips slowly to her mouth, then barely made contact.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. The man was driving her insane. Thank God there were only two more to go because she was about to come apart at the seams.

"Number nine. My personal favorite. Melt your panties kiss."

Maia braced for impact. Her panties were so wet, no way could they get hot enough to melt.

He landed a soft, gentle, open mouth kiss, then circled her lips with his tongue.

Sweet baby Jesus. Her body kicked into gear. She clutched his arms and pressed herself fully against him.

He chuckled. "I see it's your favorite, too. One more to go, and you know what it is. The ever-popular French kiss. The one that says I want to do more. And I do, Maia. Wicked things. Good things. Things that make you scream my name and beg."

Her head spun. No doubt he could deliver all of that, and she was more than ready to oblige. So for the next thirty minutes, she encouraged all the wicked things he offered. His hands. Fingers. Tongue. Touching and tasting her most sensitive places until her thoughts blurred. By the time he rolled on a condom and settled over her, she couldn't string two words together. As the third earth-shattering climax claimed her, euphoria consumed her.

Zach's voice brought her back to the moment.

She blinked. "What?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "Birth control. Please tell me you use it."

She shook her head. "Why are you asking?"

He peeled off the condom and dropped it into the trash. "I'm sorry. So sorry. The rubber broke."

WELP. Someone's in trouble.

TEASER: "I hope you know what you're doing."