Beautiful Distraction (14 page)

I sigh and head for my room, where I change into a dark blue
pencil skirt that reaches down to my knees and a white button-up
blouse—my usual work attire. I top it all off with ankle boots and a thin
jacket.

It’s all very demure.

It’s all rather suited to an office environment.

I stand back, disappointed.

I look like a secretary or a librarian.

Regarding myself in the mirror as I apply a thin layer of
red lipstick, I’ve no idea why I packed the kind of clothes I did. But it’s too
late to ask Mandy for help because a knock raps at the door. Before I can
answer, Kellan’s voice bellows, “I’m leaving in two minutes. Don’t be late,
woman.”

Without a doubt, he’s piling on the caveman charm.

I swiftly roll my hair into a bun, then, deciding that it
might be too much, I let my hair cascade down my back in a waterfall of brown,
messy waves.

“I thought I might have to drag you out of there,” Kellan
remarks as soon as I join him in the hall. There’s an easy smile on his lips as
his gaze brushes over me, his eyes narrowed, expression veiled.

My hands turn damp and my skin begins to tingle just a
little bit.

Damn!

I have no idea what he’s thinking, and it makes me nervous.

Even though I shouldn’t give a fuck, I want him to find me
sexy.

Kellan inches closer and places his big hands on my hips,
keeping me at arm’s length as his gaze drinks me all in.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

There’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

He’s laughing at me.

I can’t believe the audacity.

“You said you wanted me to change. Well—” I push his
hands away from my body and take a step back. “—here I am. Take it or
leave it. I’m a grown-up woman, not one of your usual floozies who dress to
impress you. If you want a hooker, I can call one for you. This is all you’ll
be getting from me.”

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.

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.

As soon as we step through the open door, I can see it’s
full. A live band is playing, and people are dancing.

Kellan and Mandy will fit right in. I can see that the
moment we enter and join the crowd of patronage. There are people of all ages,
all singing and chatting and having a good time.

As we head straight for the bar area on the left side, I
peer around me at the vastness of the space. The wooden décor screams Western
chic. The hayforks hanging on the walls would be a major security breach back
in NYC, but not here.

Here, they actually give the place an authentic atmosphere.

As we approach the bar, countless eyes turn to take us in.
Back in NYC, we’d be barely more than shadows. But here, off the grid, where
everyone seems to know everyone, I bet we’ll be the talk of the town by
tomorrow morning.

My work attire doesn’t seem to help either. Everyone’s
staring at me like I’ve just stepped off a different planet. I wouldn’t be
surprised if people assumed if I was Kellan’s accountant or attorney.

Mandy disappears after coming up with a bullshit excuse that
she has to visit the restroom when I know for a fact she’s going to check out
the live band.

Kellan waves over a bartender to place an order while I turn
away to take in the scene.

“I think I’ll have to punch in a few faces tonight,” Kellan
whispers in my ear, his hot breath brushing the nape of my neck as he leans
into me. His palm is flush against the small of my back, riding so low his fingers
are almost caressing my ass.

“Why? Because every woman in the room hates me?” I ask,
ignoring the evil glances addressed at me.

“Forget the women. I’m talking about the men.”

“Got it. Wearing an office outfit isn’t something people
around here do,” I mutter. “You could have told me.”

“Women wear business outfits, just not in this
establishment, which is why you’ll be every guy’s wet dream tonight,” Kellan
whispers again. His hot breath is on my earlobe now, doing incredibly sexy
things to my body. My nipples stab the fabric of my shirt, begging to be sucked
into his hot mouth. His fingers travel a little lower, brushing the contours of
my hip bone, then moving to my ass. “Damn, woman, you’re so hot you’ll be
my
wet dream.”

My head snaps back to him and our lips almost meet before I
jolt back, seared by the want in his green eyes.

Where the hell did that come from?

And what the fuck was I thinking not following my first
instinct and staying away from him?

We’re at the bar, his hand on my ass, and people are still
staring. No one knows me, but they know Kellan. Even though I shouldn’t care
because I’ll be gone in a few days, I don’t want to be the talk of the town. I
don’t want people to think that I’m his squeeze or fuck or whatever Kellan
calls his conquests. He’s pretty much made it clear that he doesn’t do
relationships, and I’m not stupid enough to think I could possibly be the
exception.

The bartender approaches us with our beer bottles, exchanges
a few words with Kellan, and then leaves again.

 
“You could have
told me to wear something more inconspicuous.” I throw him an icy glare, which
earns me a laugh in return.

“Ava, you wouldn’t be inconspicuous wearing a paper bag over
your head. It’s the ass.”

“What about it?”

“It’s hot.” As though the word doesn’t convey the right
meaning, his gaze lowers to my backside appreciatively and he licks his lips.
My clothes seem to evaporate before my eyes. “I’d know a thing or two about what
to do with it. You’d like it. I’m incredible at that.”

No doubt about that.

Slightly breathless, I scowl at him.

His eyes gleam a shade darker than usual. “Think about it.
The invitation’s standing.”

“There’s not going to be any ass play, today or ever,” I say
in the kind of raspy voice that betrays just how much I’d like him to touch me
and show me what I’m missing.

His brow shoots up in amusement. “Why? Because you’d like it
too much?”

“No.”

“Ava,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I know you’ll enjoy it.” He raises his bottle. “Here’s to
us meeting again. To new beginnings.”

I eye him cautiously as we clink our bottles, and then we
chug down a few gulps. I feel the effect instantly. My head is lighter, my
limbs like jelly.

“Wow. You’re right. This is the best beer I’ve ever had,” I
say.

He leans forward. I expect my body to go rigid, but instead
I find myself strangely relaxed.

“You’ll be panting my name as I take you on the ride of your
life.”

Emphasis on the ride.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s resuming our
conversation from before.

He’s talking about my ass.

Oh, my gosh.

That monumental ego of his is back.

I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. “No.” I draw out the
word again. “Because I don’t do that.”

“You’ve never tried? Or you tried but didn’t like it?”

Whoa!

When did a harmless dress code conversation take such a
dirty turn?

“I’m so not going to answer that, Kellan.” I cross my arms
over my chest and manage to draw his attention to my hard nipples.

“Because you’ve never tried,” he says, as usual convinced
that he knows everything.

Arguing with a guy who thinks he’s the living and breathing
equivalent of Adonis is a waste of time. Arguing with one who thinks he’s all
that
and
all-knowing is like banging
your head against a wall. I like my head the way it is, so I’m not even going
there.

I swat his hand off my ass and put a few inches of space
between us. “No. Because it’s none of your business.”

“Fine.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “But just
some food for thought. The uptight ones are always the ones that enjoy it the
most. Give me a night, and by morning you’ll be screaming for more.” He guzzles
down half of his beer as I stare at him.

Wait, did he just call me uptight?

I should be offended, but I’m not in the slightest.

He hasn’t hit a nerve. I haven’t tried all the things he’s
tried. Maybe because I’ve never met someone who really rocked my boat and made
me want to abandon all my inhibitions.

So what?

I’m not ashamed of it.

“Yeah, right.” I laugh. “I’ll be screaming all right…for you
to get the hell out of my room before I throw something at you.”

“Hmmm.”

I laugh again. “Hmmm? That’s all you have to say? Did I just
manage to shut up your insufferable ego?”

His green gaze pierces into me, shimmering, flickering.

Oh, shit!

I did it again.

I’ve just managed to challenge him.

Why can’t I ever keep my big mouth shut?

“No, baby. You haven’t shut me up. On the contrary, there’s
so much more I can say and show. My promises are always accompanied by
actions.”

In spite of all the people staring, he closes the distance
between us. His hard body is pressed into me, his hand at the small of my back,
holding me glued in place. I throw my head back to look all the way up, and
instantly regret it. His lips lower over mine, hovering less than an inch away.
I can feel his breath on me. I can feel the heat of his body. I can feel
something hard against my belly.

He’s hard for me.

His tongue flicks over his lower lip. Before I realize
what’s happening, his mouth crashes down on mine, wild and hungry.

I’m so taken aback by his taste, I can’t move. I stand
rooted to the spot, caught up in him. The band’s break is over and the music
resumes.

Kellan’s lips part from mine.

Slowly, he begins to move, his hard grip forcing me to shift
with him, like we’re dancing. The music in the background shifts to a country
ballad, as though to suit our movements.

I lean into Kellan, not because I want to. I have to.

It’s what this hard body demands of me.

Even though we look like we’re dancing, I know that’s not
what he’s doing.

He wants me to feel his erection. He wants to know how I’ll
react to him wanting me.

Damn.

I should be pushing him away. Laugh it all off because it’s
something guys like him do. Push their boundaries. Check whether they can
score.

And yet, all I do is let him take
the lead.

Surrender control.

His breath mingles with mine. It’s labored. Scorching. It’s
on my skin. Inside my head.

I want him.

All of him.

Now.

I feel someone’s presence behind me and turn sharply.

It’s Mandy, and she’s smirking at me.

“Gee, get a room. Or use the restroom. Or whatever. I don’t
care.” Her voice penetrates the layer of lust rendering my brain useless.

My palms spreading across his chest, I push Kellan back. His
hands leave my body without protest.

“We were just dancing,” I mutter to her.

“Of course you were.” Mandy blinks her eyelashes at me. “And
I was talking to the president of China. Look, he’s sitting at the bar over
there.”

Stupidly, I follow her line of vision to the old man nursing
a half-empty glass of what looks like scotch, his hooded eyes buried in his
drink, his expression vacant.

She was being sarcastic, obviously. The fact that I didn’t
catch on immediately is a sign that Kellan’s touch just caused my IQ to drop at
least ten points.

“We were just dancing,” I repeat stupidly. Then I mutter,
“Need to use the restroom,” and dash off before anyone can question my
sanity…or morality.

Inside the bathroom, I stare at the reflection in the
mirror, ignoring the redhead coating her glossy lips in another layer of
sparkly pink. She eyes me curiously but doesn’t say a word as I keep staring at
my rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.

Holy shit!

I almost made out with Kellan out there, in front of
everyone.

I can’t believe I just let him touch me like that. I let him
kiss me in public.

Who is this person? Because I sure as hell don’t recognize
myself.

I’m not an exhibitionist. I don’t even kiss in public so as
not to offend anyone who might feel offended by a public display of affection.

Only, that wasn’t exactly affection.

It was raw want.

And I enjoyed it way too much.

“Gum?” the redhead asks and pushes a packet of something
fruity toward me.

I shake my head and toss a hesitant smile her way. “No,
thanks.”

“I’m Trish,” she says in the same slow drawl like Kellan’s.

“Ava.”

 
“New in town?”
Her perfect eyebrows rise in question, and her fingers lift to brush a strand
of glossy hair out of her face.

“Just passing through.”

“You staying with Kellan?” His name coming out of her mouth
is like whiplash against my skin.

Her brows shoot up again, which I sense is an expression she
does often when she wants an answer. But there’s something in her gaze. Like
it’s more than just curiosity.

It’s surprise.

The door opens, and a bunch of giggling girls I’m not sure
are even old enough to drink enter.

“Excuse me,” I say and head for a stall, barricading myself
inside before Trish can continue her conversation. I’m not usually rude, but
I’ve had enough of Kellan for one evening.