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BOOK: Beautiful Distraction
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I wait until I think the restroom’s cleared before leaving
the sanctuary that’s my stall and returning to the bar area.

Kellan and Mandy are sitting at a table, engaged in small
talk with a guy who’s obviously very much interested in what Mandy has to say.

As soon as Mandy sees me, she waves at me. “She’s back.” She
turns to the guy next to her. “This is Ava. Ava, this is Josh.” Mandy leans
into me and yells in my ear a little louder than is necessary, “He’s a friend
of Kellan’s.”

Of course he is. He even looks the part: all tall and
muscular, with blue eyes the color of mountain rivers and sandy hair that,
coupled with his tanned skin, gives him the same bad boy appearance Kellan has
about him.

I can see they’re related somehow before Josh speaks up to
set things straight. “We’re cousins, actually. Our dads were brothers.”

Ah.

I nod and shoot him a hesitant smile, deliberately ignoring
Kellan’s heated stare. His fingers brush my leg beneath the table and I pull
away, crossing my legs to make it harder for him to reach them.

The guy says, like we already know each other, “Let’s get
the lady a drink.”

Mandy laughs, and like on cue, a woman in her early forties,
wearing an infectious smile and the lowest cut top I’ve ever seen, approaches
our table with a tray full of shots and slices of lime.

We don’t do shots...ever. And for a very good reason. Last
time we did, bad things happened.

Someone wants to get us drunk, or why else would you ply a
woman with tequila? And I have a pretty good idea who’s behind this grand plan.

I peer at Mandy, who just shrugs her shoulders at me and
takes a glass.

“No, thank you.” I shake my head at the waitress and steal a
glance at Kellan, who’s downright staring at me.

“Wine? Beer?” the other guy asks. He’s basically giving us
options, so the shots weren’t his doing.

“You need to loosen up a bit,” Kellan says. “Live a little.”

“Are you calling me uptight?” I laugh. “Oh, wait. You did
already.”

Given that I have so little self-control over myself even
when sober, I shouldn’t be drinking more than I’ve already had, but the peer
pressure is too much. Besides, this is a bar. No one’s having soda, unless it’s
to accompany the scotch.

“Can we have another round, please?” Mandy says to the
waitress. I watch her snake her way through the crowded space.

The music in the background’s getting louder.

“So you both grew up here,” Mandy says, her voice way too
chirpy, her tone way too flirty.

She’s found her very own Kellan, and now she’s ready to
charm her way into his bed. Or he into hers. Judging from his hungry eyes and
the way his gaze seems to keep brushing her cleavage, it won’t take long before
his hands will be all over her.

Just like Kellan’s were on me a few seconds ago.

Classy.

I turn away, angry with myself for not leaving at once, as
the conversation continues without me.

“We grew up together. Always got ourselves into trouble over
this and that,” Josh says to Mandy. “It was usually his fault though. The guy
always knew how to attract it.”

“Like you were a saint,” Kellan says.

“The way I remember it, I actually was…until you came
along.” Josh’s tone is light, jokey. “You compromised me. You compromised all
of us.”

Kellan laughs, the sound sending jolts of pleasure through
me. His voice is so deep and raw, so sexy, I can’t help but steal another
glance at him. As though he can feel it, his sinning eyes turn to me, and our
gazes meet. My heart jumps into my throat, and a soft tingle erupts between my
legs.

“I’m two years older,” Josh goes on to explain to Mandy. “I
remember a time when my days didn’t consist of Mom or Aunt Becky yelling at me
because of something Kellan did. From the moment he was born, I swear the guy
didn’t understand the meaning of no. And because I was the oldest, I was always
to blame.”

“No one forced you to trudge along.” Kellan shrugs, his tone
still light-hearted. But there’s affection in his eyes.

He cares about his family, I realize. He probably cares
about them more than he wants to let on.

“Dude, you stole your dad’s rifle to track down a cougar by
candlelight in the middle of the night.”

“He attacked two foals,” Kellan says. “It was my job to
protect the horses.”

“If I wasn’t there with you, you could have burned down the
barn with all the horses in it.”

“Oh, my God.” Mandy giggles. “How old were you?”

“He was ten,” Josh says.

“Nine,” Kellan clarifies. “And in my defense, that cougar
had been bothering my dad for weeks. I was just trying to help. Being a good
son and all. The cougar cost us seven good horses, and that’s not counting the
foals.”

“Yeah, you were helping all right,” Josh says, laughing.

The picture of a nine-year-old boy with dark hair and
beautiful green eyes pops into my head. I can picture him so well. His hair
brushing the collar of his shirt. His pants covered in mud and dust and hay.
His dad’s rifle slung across his back as he tries to find the animal that’s
been giving his dad trouble. His mom almost having a heart attack as she finds
her little boy carrying a firearm and going for an animal that could attack
him.

In spite of myself, I smile at the picture. It makes the
grown-up Kellan so much more likeable. I don’t want to like him, but somehow I
can’t help the tightness spreading across my chest.

It’s clear Kellan loves his dad. It’s also clear he likes
being around horses and that he takes great care of them.

“I’m a cowboy at heart. It runs in my blood,” he says.

“That’s true,” Josh agrees, then leans forward. “You should
see him riding a bull. If he weren’t already famous, he…fuck.” He glares at
Kellan. “Dude, don’t kick my leg.”

“I’ll do more if you don’t keep your trap shut.”

The waitress arrives, placing a tray down. “If you gals are
stupid enough to marry one of them Boyd boys, be warned. That story doesn’t
even begin to scratch the surface of truth about their blood. I should know,
for I married one back then, when I didn’t know any better.”

I peer up at her, past her incredibly full cleavage on
display, to the twinkling eyes encircled by deep laughter lines.

She smiles, the skin around her eyes crinkling even more as
she winks at me.

“I’m Ava. This is Mandy.” I reach out my hand.

“Sharon.” Ignoring it, she gives my shoulder a brief
squeeze, then pulls up a chair and plops down in spite of Kellan’s murderous
look.

“I know Mandy. We met this morning.”

“I asked her for directions,” Mandy explains. “Sharon was
kind enough to show me the way to the police station.”

“Which was empty, by the way,” Sharon says, raising a bottle
in the air. “That deputy of ours is never here when we need him. Cheers to
that.”

“Amen.”

Josh snorts and raises his bottle, waiting until we all
follow suit. I don’t want to drink with them, but I don’t know how to politely
decline, so I obey everyone’s silent urgency. The beer burns my throat so bad,
for a moment I’m rendered blind.

“It’s tequila beer. You need to follow it up with the
lemon,” Kellan whispers in my ear.

He’s so close, his leg brushes against mine under the table.
His hot breath on my earlobe is all I can think about.

I bite into the slice of lime he holds up to my mouth and
realize the sour tang kind of washes away the burning sensation. But it does
nothing to get rid of the throbbing between my legs. The fact that he brushes
his thumb over my lips, as though to wipe away some residue, only makes it
worse.

He’s using any bullshit excuse to touch me, but for some
reason, I don’t stop him, which makes me even angrier with myself.

“See, he’s compromising you already, and the evening hasn’t
even started yet,” Josh says.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Josh’s hand is on
Mandy’s naked arm the moment he finishes the sentence.

He’s going for it. And all she’s doing is leaning into him
and laughing.

She’s so natural at this. Watching her, I know I’m nothing
like that. I want to run. I want to hide. And yet, something keeps me glued to
my seat, my breathing not quite functioning every time Kellan seems to lean too
close to talk to me or touch me oh so innocently.

“It’s all in the Boyd blood,” Sharon says, throwing me a
look of pity. “Compromising women is their family legacy.”

I stare at her, then at Josh. Both used the same word.

Compromise? As in one’s reputation?

I’ve no idea but don’t get a chance to ask.

“Hey, Sharon. Get your sweet ass over here or hang up the
self help sign,” a guy from the bar yells to her. “Some of us are thirsty.”

“Hold your horses, Trent. I’m coming.” She rolls her eyes at
me and stands, leaning toward me until I catch a whiff of her perfume. “A word
of advice, sweetheart. Don’t let this one get into your panties until he’s
earned them. God knows he has enough of a collection already, and you look like
a nice girl. You don’t want your heart broken if you can’t break his in
return.”

“Go away, Sharon. No one needs your advice tonight,” Kellan
mutters.

Sharon laughs and disappears in the crowd.

What was that all about?

I want to ask him who Sharon is when Kellan grabs another
beer bottle and pushes it toward me. “Ignore her.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shake my head, not
sure whether I mean that it’s a bad idea to ignore Sharon’s advice or have
another drink with him.

In fact, I think both of them rank pretty high on my
things-not-to-do-in-Montana list.

“As you wish.” He downs his drink.

I scan his face as he tunes back into Josh and Mandy’s
conversation. Is he mad that I declined him? He doesn’t look like it. But then,
I know nothing about this man, except for the few tidbits of information, that
he’s close to his family and collects panties—the dirty kind.

I like the family part. It makes him a nice guy. The panties
part? Uh, not so much.

“You okay? You look a little flushed,” Kellan says, genuine
concern etched in his features.

“I’m fine. I’m just—“

Jealous?

Maybe a little bit, which I’d never admit to him.

I wave my hand, like it’s nothing really.

Kellan regards me for a few moments. And then, to my
surprise, he leans closer, though there’s nothing sexual about the way his
fingers brush my hand.

“How’s your ankle? Still hurting?”

Staring at his hand on mine, I shake my head in response.
“It’s all good. Thanks to you.”

“Good.” Kellan intertwines his fingers with mine and pulls
me to my feet. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, but don’t put up a fight.

He only answers after we’ve reached the door. “I haven’t
shown you around yet.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sightseeing after dusk is another bad idea that’s just made
my bad-ideas-in-Montana list.

A balmy breeze whispers around us as Kellan leads me out of
the bar and into the dark street. A group of teens squeeze past us, pushing me
into him so hard I almost take a tumble. His hand reaches around my waist,
steadying me until I’ve regained my equilibrium.

“Hey, guys, watch it,” he calls after the teens, his voice
conveying more anger than is necessary.

“It’s okay.” I touch his arm.

Kellan shakes his head. I can feel the waves of anger
wafting from him. Suddenly, he seems a million miles away.

“Hey.” I touch his arm again, this time to get his
attention. “They’re just kids having a good time.”

His attention returns to me, and for a second I think I see
something in his eyes.

A fierceness that isn’t lust.

A spark that isn’t want.

He’s protective.

My body’s still pressed up against him. His arm is still
wrapped around my waist.

I use the proximity and rise on my toes to kiss the corner
of his mouth, though only manage to reach up as far as his chin.

“What was that for?” Kellan asks, his tone just a little
hoarser than it should be.

I shrug and ease out of his embrace. “You’re not such a bad
guy after all.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” His lips
twitch, the heaviness between us gone.

“I didn’t say you were a good guy either.”

His arm goes around my waist. “I know almost nothing about
you.”

The statement takes me by surprise. My eyes rise to meet
his, and I flinch at what I see in them.

For a moment, it’s like I’m looking at a different
person…someone who’s genuinely interested in me, not in peeling off any layers
of my inhibitions.

Or maybe it’s a ploy to do just that.

Either way, I sort of like the sudden gentleness about him.

“I’m a single child. Both of my parents are composers.”

“Ah,” he says. “That’s why you hate music.”

“No.” I frown as I consider his statement. “Maybe. I’m not
sure.” I shrug. “Does it matter? They wanted me to follow in their footsteps,
but I wasn’t really interested. For the life of me, I just couldn’t figure out
the cello. Surely you can imagine how disappointed they were that I didn’t
inherit their talents. I wasn’t a child prodigy. They were so enthusiastic and
pushy, until one day they realized their plans of raising the female version of
Beethoven or Mozart were nothing but a pipe dream.”

“So, what did you do?”

I shrug. “I moved out, went to college to study journalism,
and now I write articles.”

“About what?”

I laugh. “Whatever pays the bills. I’m a journalist. Mostly,
I dig out all the crap I can find about companies and expose them.”

“Sounds like you’re no-nonsense.”

I glance at him to take in his expression. He’s seems
honest, serious. “I am. I always try to uncover the truth. If you dig hard
enough, you’ll find that most companies have secrets, but some are shadier than
others.”

His brows shoot up in interest. “Yeah? Like what, for
example?”

I shrug. “Like writing off charity donations when the charity’s
just some bogus company. Or a company cutting employees’ pension funds while
raising their board members’ salaries.” We resume walking. “Josh mentioned
brothers,” I start, ready to shift the focus on Kellan. “How many siblings do
you have?”

Kellan hesitates, but only for a moment. “One sister. Two brothers.”

“Must be nice to have a big family,” I say. “I’ve always
wanted siblings.”

“You can always borrow mine.”

I laugh. “Only if they’re nice. So, what were you doing back
in NYC when your life seems to be here?” I can feel him tense before I’ve even
finished the question.

He doesn’t pull his hand back, but his grip loosens, the
soft butterfly strokes on my skin ceasing.

For a moment, he’s perfectly still, his eyes hooded, his
expression cagey.

“Business,” he says matter-of-factly and clears his throat.
“Montana’s beautiful, but not the only beautiful place in the world.”

A tactical change of subject. It’s not even a subtle one.

The feeling he’s hiding something is stronger than before.

As soon as I get back home, I know I’ll be trying to find out
as much as I can about Kellan Boyd.

That’s a promise to myself.

I nod, sensing the usual ‘one day I’ll take you there’ BS
guys always dish out. But it never comes. I take off down the dimly lit road,
unsure which direction to take.

“You said you wanted to show me around. This is your
chance.”

His laughter echoes behind me a moment before I feel his
arms on my body again, guiding me into what looks like a deserted dark alley.

“And I was planning on using it. There’s definitely
something I need to show you.”

I peer around me, unsure what exactly we could possibly see
in the dark. My confusion intensifies when he opens a gate leading into
someone’s back yard and pulls me inside, closing the gate behind us.

“We’re trespassing,” I hiss.

“Are you afraid of being caught?”

“No,” I say slowly. “But someone’s not going to be happy.”

“Well, that someone isn’t going to be me.” Kellan laughs and
pushes me against the gate, capturing my hands in one of his and raising them
above my head.

Holy shit!

We’re in someone’s back yard, and Kellan has me pinned
against the gate, his mouth inches from mine as his other hand begins to roam
over my body.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he whispers, his hot breath
sending an electric tingle down my spine. “Do you have any idea how much my
hand hurts?”

The sudden memory of him jerking off pops into my head, and
wow, it’s hot.

“I know what you did last night,” he whispers. “While you
were taking care of yourself, I was imagining myself replacing your fingers
with mine.”

My breath halts. The shock is short, but sweet.

Heat pools between my legs.

If he were to touch me down there, he’d find me dripping wet
and ready for him.

He lets go of my hands and unbuttons my top. The cool breeze
brushes over my skin, beading my nipples, a moment before his hot mouth
encloses one, sucking it into his mouth for a second, then moving on to the
other one.

The moon is hidden behind rainclouds. Away from the street,
the light of the lamp doesn’t reach us. We’re hidden from the street, but the
house isn’t too far away.

 
“Someone might
hear us,” I whisper and moan involuntarily as his fingers pull my top out of my
skirt and move across my stomach back to my breasts.

The entire situation is completely inappropriate. We’re
probably breaking a few laws, too. And yet, all I can do is catch my lower lip
between my teeth as a myriad of sensations awaken, all at the same time.

“You’re right. Someone might hear us,” Kellan mutters, not
really helping. “Let’s be quick, then.”

His fingers are like fire on my skin, his touch on my
breasts not as gentle as I imagined.

Rough has never been one of my preferences, but coming from
him, his decisiveness does strange things to my body.

Tossing my head back, I moan in response, the mixture of
pleasure and pain taking over.

“What are you doing?” I ask in a sudden moment of lucidity.

He doesn’t reply. He just lets go of me and slides up, his
body pressing me against the gate.

I can feel the entire length of his erection pulsating
against my abdomen. He’s hard as a rock, ready to take me to pleasure heaven,
which I’m sure is the plan if I let him.

“Kellan.” His name slips out of my mouth. It sounds like a
question. I don’t know what to do. I’m not Mandy, who can so easily live in the
moment and think about consequences later.

It’s just a hook up.

Enjoy it.

“Yes, baby. Just like that.” Kellan groans, and I realize
I’ve just pressed myself flush against him, closing the remaining space that
might have been between us.

Our gazes meet. In the moonlight, I can sense the mixture of
apprehension and lust more than I can see it.

He trails his hands down my hips and lifts up my skirt, then
steps back to appraise me. My pale skin looks white and smooth in the darkness,
all the faults I never liked about myself hidden.

His eyes drink me in. All of me. I’m holding my breath,
waiting for his reaction.

“Damn, woman,” is all he says. A moment later, his lips
crush mine. His tongue is forcing its way into my mouth, probing, tasting,
while his fingers brush the front of my panties.

My breath hitches as my clit pulsates to life against his
insistent fingers, and I moan into his open mouth.

I can feel my wetness coating my panties, readying me for
his hard cock. I want him inside me so bad, I whimper, almost considering
begging if he won’t speed things along.

So much for my resolution to stay the fuck away from him.

So much for my decision not to join his collection of
conquests.

How many were there?

How many will there be after me?

I shake my head to get rid of the seed of jealousy settling
at the back of my mind.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll be a sweet, delicious memory by the
end of the week.

He’ll be the one past indulgence I’ll think about when I’m
old and settled into my boring, middle-class life, chasing after two kids and
the passion I once felt for a stranger.

“This means nothing,” I whisper, more to convince myself
than him.

“Hmm.” Kellan stops to bite my lower lip, sucking it into
his mouth. His fingers pry my legs apart and squeeze beneath my panties.

His groan reverberates from his chest. It’s deep and sexy
and all the answer I need to know what he’s thinking about my wet pussy.

“You’re ready for me.” Kellan’s voice is hoarse, dripping
with want. “I could fuck you right now and you’d be milking me for all I’ve got.”

“Then fuck me.”

I don’t know where that came from or who this woman is,
because it’s sure not me.

His fingers trail my folds. A gasp escapes my mouth as they
find their way inside me, and I spread my legs a bit, rocking against his big
hand.

His thumb finds my clit and presses gently while he plunges
two fingers in and out of me.

It feels so good to have him inside me.

Desire rolls over me in sweet, long waves.

“Ava, look at me.” His command enters the periphery of my
mind.

Unwillingly, I open my eyes and meet his gaze. Half of his
face is veiled in darkness, reminding me of our first encounter in front of
Club 69. This has been my dream for so long, I know it’ll be my undoing.

“Yes, baby, look at me and tell me how much you like this.”
His tone is low, barely more than rasps of breathing.

“Kellan.” His name is all I can say, over and over again.
His eyes are fixed on me, feasting on my lust, as his fingers work their magic,
taking me to the brink.

“I’m so close,” I think I whisper, but I’m not sure because
all I can hear is the thrumming of my blood flooding my veins.

The pulsing between my legs intensifies. I close my eyes,
ready to succumb to my imminent orgasm.

“No.” The word is sharp, forceful. An instant later,
Kellan’s magical fingers stop and his hand is at my chin, forcing my head up.
His index finger traces the contour of my lower lip.

“What are you doing?” I practically whimper, and my eyes
flutter open, my gaze imploring. The throbbing between my legs intensifies, but
it’s not the good kind.

I’ve never felt so unsatisfied. So…empty.

“I want you to come on my tongue. I want to taste you.” His
tone is gentler, but there’s a forceful undertone to it, like it’s his way or
none.

“You want to—” My voice breaks.

I’m too wet for what he wants. I’m so slick he could slide
inside me, all of him, right to the hilt, and I’d probably moan his name in the
process. And I don’t even know why. It’s never happened before, with none of my
few boyfriends. As a result, I don’t know how he’d react to it.

I don’t know whether he’ll like it.

“We could just fuck,” I say. The word fuck is barely more
than a wanton whisper.

“No.” His groan is almost feral as he slides my panties down
my hips. I lift my legs one by one, helping him remove them even though that’s
the last thing I should be doing.

I know that. I’m not stupid…just momentarily rendered
brainless.

“I’ll fuck you when I say so,” Kellan says. “Until then, you
take what I give you.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

He was one before, and he’ll continue to be one.

A jerk who needs to be in control.

I’m not surprised to find that a guy like him finds his
thrill in power.

“A jerk who’s going to make you come hard.”

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