Beautiful Distraction(47)

His head shoots back, and a roar of laughter erupts from his chest, the sound vibrating all the way down to my core.

In spite of this man’s arrogance and the fact that I know that’s something you don’t want in a guy, I can’t help but want him.

I want him with all my body.

I crave his hands all over me.

Crave feeling his fingers slip beneath my clothes and enter all those places I didn’t know could come to life from a man’s mere voice.

“What’s so funny?” I narrow my eyes as I take in the shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. The top button is undone, revealing taut, tanned skin. His jeans hang low on his hips, and there’s that clearly defined bulge that keeps drawing my attention to it.

The picture of him stroking his cock flashes before my eyes.

For a moment, I lose focus. It’s all a bit too detailed—especially the part of his face drawn in pleasure. The telltale heat of a major blush rushes to my face.

Damn, he looks so good I want a piece of him.

“Can you handle it?” Kellan asks.

“What?” I frown at his irritating grin.

Holy shit!

He just caught me staring at his crotch. I can only hope my face isn’t on fire. Though, judging from my burning skin and his smug expression, I’m most certainly wrong.

“I’ve handled way more than this,” I mumble.

“I was talking about your ankle and a night out in those shoes, but…” He winks and lets his gaze brush over my lips. It’s all so lascivious, I can almost feel him on my skin, and it sends a shiver through me. “…I’m glad to hear you’ll be able to handle certain parts of me.”

I smirk. “You’re such a—” I shake my head, lost for words. Whatever I say couldn’t possibly deflect from the fact that I was thinking about handling certain parts of him.

Either he has mind-reading abilities, or he’s so full of himself, he assumes that his dick’s every woman’s fantasy.

“Jerk?” Kellan prompts. “I think we’ve already established that.”

“Oh, God, Ava,” comes Mandy’s voice from the door. “You didn’t!”

She’s dressed in a short denim skirt and cowboy boots with fringes, the ruffled low-cut top putting her cleavage on display. Her outfit suits Kellan’s blue jeans and snug shirt to a T. It’s like they coordinated in advance, which annoys me to no end.

Mandy and Kellan seem to have so much more in common than Kellan and I do, starting with the looks and attitude, to the dressing style.

I don’t need to ask what Mandy’s thinking because, as usual, she’s quick to share.

“You look like a secretary.”

“I like secretaries,” Kellan leans in to whisper in my ear, his hot breath brushing my earlobe. “In fact, they’re my favorite kind. You sure know how to stoke a fire in a man’s pants. I wouldn’t mind pinning you to that couch, pushing your panties aside, and licking your hot pussy until you’re ready and I can take you hard from behind.”

My pulse thuds in my ears, drowning out all the dirty things he’d like to do to me. But I don’t need his account to help me get the picture.

The image of my face buried in his sofa while Kellan’s hands hold my hips in place, entering me from behind, makes me jump in my skin. I almost choke on my breath as I jump a few steps back, freeing my heated body from his sweltering breath.

“Let’s go.” I swoosh past him, walk down the stairs, and yank the door wide open in the hope the darkness will hide my burning face.

Kellan laughs, and I know I am what amuses him.

I thought my outfit would put him off.

That he’s the kind who likes double Ds spilling out of push-up bras and short skirts riding up oiled legs. That he might not be into that never even occurred to me.

He likes a challenge. I should have known it. And of course his caveman ego would make him think I dressed like this to get a reaction from him.

I got a reaction big time. I can see it in the swelling of his pants.

Now I’m screwed.

I know it.

It’s the memory of our kiss that’s making me lose it, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I can’t help myself. I want more.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





According to Kellan, it’s a thirty-minute drive to the bar. However, in his SUV, in spite of the mud caking the tires, we make it in fifteen. He drives like a maniac, which is most certainly the reason why he bumped into my car.

I sit in the passenger seat, grasping at the armrest for support. When the SUV finally comes to a screeching halt, we’re in front of what looks like another oversized barn with a big flashing neon light showing a rodeo rider sitting on a bull.