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.
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.