I’ve never considered myself ugly, but I’m no blond model material either. My figure is not bad, with a bit of extra padding here and there. Guys always seem to like my generous chest size, but that’s not impressive either.

No one like him—rich and instant-panty-drop sexy—has ever hit on me.

You rejected him, and now he thinks you’re a challenge.

That must be my answer.

Combine spectacular looks with a bruised ego in a guy, and he’s major trouble. It’s like he turns into a bloodhound, sniffing you out, pursuing you relentlessly. Once the job’s done, he’ll lose interest and be gone before you even realized what just happened.

“I know I keep asking the same stuff, but I can’t figure you out.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How does the dirty talking usually fare for you?”

“What dirty talking? I haven’t even started yet.”

I sigh at his infuriatingly sweet tone. “Okay, let’s try again. So, what is it that you do? Irritate the hell out of a woman so she gives in just to get rid of you?”

A smile flashes across his lips. “I don’t usually need to. Women usually throw themselves at me. But—”

“But?” I raise my brows at him, silently coercing him to enlighten me.

“But I might not have any other choice with you.”

“Ah.” I nod knowingly, mocking him. “Maybe not everyone is into you, you know? Does that make sense?”

Before I know it, he grips my chin between his fingers and leans forward. Our breaths intermingled, I’m forced to meet his green gaze, and I don’t like what I see there.

Longing.

My own longing for him to kiss me is reflected in his eyes.

And then there is something else.

Determination.

Raw, hard, primitive determination.

The kind I don’t possess.

He’s used to getting what he wants. I knew that from the first moment I saw him. What I didn’t expect was that, for some reason, he might be wanting me.

“I’m everyone’s type, Ava,” he says, his voice low. “You just have to realize it.”

He lets go, his fingers leaving a tingling sensation on my skin.

I shake my head, more out of need to convince myself that no man could have such an effect on me than disagreement. “Be that as it may, you’re not everyone’s type to handle, and I can assure you I’m not interested in getting involved with a guy like you.”

“And what kind of guy do you think I am?”

“Mmh, let me think.” I bite my lip in mock contemplation. “The kind of guy who thinks you’re on every woman’s bucket list of things to do before they die.”

“Wow. You have me down to a T.” He eyes me, amused. “So, why don’t you join the crowd?”

I let out a laugh. “Seriously? Is that even a question?”

“It is.” He nods. “Women usually throw themselves at me. Except you. You seem to be the exception, which poses the important question: why do you keep rejecting me?” His question sounds genuine, like he’s given it a lot of thought and can’t for the life of him figure out the answer.

“You’re too much,” I admit.

“Too much of what? Sexiness?”

“No, dude.” I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re too much to handle. Too much obnoxiousness.”

“I never thought I’d hear a woman say something like that to me. It’s usually the other way around, you know?” His smile breaks into a grin. “Are you sure you’re even a woman?”

I scowl. “Trust me, I’m as much of a woman as you’re a man.”

“Prove it.”

He’s playing me.

I cock my head, annoyed that he’d think I’m so easy to trick. “If you think I’m going to flash you my breasts while you get to show me your private parts, you’re wrong.”

Yeah, no need to show them to me when I’ve already seen them.

And they’re huge.

There’s a strange look in his eyes. I still don’t know if he saw me watching him last night, but I sure as hell won’t be asking.

“I’m messing with you. But you’ve got to admit it would have been nice.”

I smirk. “Yeah, if we were five-year-olds.”

“If I were a five-year-old, I would have said, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. But like I said, I never have to ask. It’s always the other way around.” He leans forward. His stubble grazes my skin, and for a moment, I think he’s about to kiss me. His hot breath brushes my lips as he says, “I’m perfectly well-endowed and will be happy to show you if you ask…nicely.”

He leans back, his green eyes challenging me with so much fire it takes my breath away.

I’m stunned. Lost for words. I don’t know what to say. But I know how I feel. I’m turned on by the memory in my head.

His hand wrapped around his hard cock is all I can think about. It drives me crazy. It takes all my willpower not to look down at his crotch.

“Not going to happen,” I mumble, more to myself than to him.

“Now it’s my turn,” Kellan says coolly. “You told me your opinion of me, so it’s only fair that I tell you what I think your problem is.”

My breath catches in my throat.

I so don’t like where this is going.

“I’m not interested in what you think my problem is because I don’t have one.”

“You see, Ava,” Kellan says slowly, “you’re a good girl, which is why I irritate you. I’m the kind of guy you’ve avoided all your life. The kind of guy you’re too scared to fuck because you’re too scared to let go of your inhibitions.”

“That’s not true.” I open my mouth to protest some more. He presses the tip of his index finger against my lips, instantly silencing me.

“Don’t misunderstand me. You enjoy sex, and you look like you’re not half bad at it. But I’ll take you beyond the boring, predictable kind you’re used to. In fact, I can teach you a few things you’ll really enjoy. Things that will make your last orgasm seem like a waste of time. Then you’ll see why bad boys who are ‘too much for you’ always get the girls.”

Coming out of this jerk’s mouth, it all sounds like an insult.

He’s so right about me, I feel a strong need to vehemently deny it. But I can’t because he’d know. Sure, I have experience, but none of my previous partners had a body like his.

They all had been nice guys.

None of them had been arrogant and rich.

Or so fucking self-assured that I might just want to find out if his words carry any truth to them.

I’m about to tell him to fuck off in not so nice words when Kellan releases me, leaving me both breathless and strangely elated at the thought that he wants me.

He hasn’t answered a single one of my questions.

However, he doesn’t need to. It’s not like I’m interested in his life story or in his job. He’s looking for fun. That part’s pretty obvious. And as much as I’m trying to deny it, the truth is I’m into a bit of fun, too.

We might just have something in common.

Except I’m single and he is not. That’s never a good basis for anything.

To get involved with someone like him, someone to whom I feel an intense attraction, even if on a purely physical level, could mean that I might get attached along the way.

While people fuck, they also fall in love.

My world never splits its color into white and black. I always get trapped somewhere in between.

I can easily imagine myself falling in love with him.

And then what?

I’m not sure I want to take the risk of having to face that question.

In the silence of the room, Kellan busies himself around the kitchen. His sexy back is turned on me as he grabs the coffee pot and a tray with waffles, and then returns to the table, placing them in the middle together with a bottle of syrup.

When he sits down again, I can’t bear it any longer.

I need to know.

“How can you flirt with me so openly?” I ask. “You’re in a relationship.”

“I am?” He looks up, surprised. “Wow. I had no idea.”

My eyes narrow on him. “Well, are you?”

“It depends.” He tops up our coffee mugs, taking his sweet time, which annoys me to no end. “If you plan on marrying me, then yes, I’m already in a relationship for life. But if you’re just down for fucking, no, I’m not. Don’t get me wrong. I love relationships, as long as they don’t involve me, or kids. Or to put it another way, the only relationship I have is with my cock. I nurture it. I take good care of it. I teach women like you to have fun.”

Wow.

He sounds like a player, which was pretty much my first impression of him.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and yet it does.

The news that he’s single is a relief, but it also leaves a burning question in its wake.

“What about the woman in the pic?”

“Which one?” He tilts his head, thinking.

“The one in the living room.” I frown. “Why? Do you have more than one?”

“Guilty as charged. I have keepsakes of all of my trophies,” he says smoothly, one brow raised. “But if we’re talking about the one in the living room, that’s my sister. I’m on the market today, happy to oblige.”

“Today?” I let out a laugh.

Who says that?

“And tomorrow,” he adds. “Obviously I want you to know what you’re getting into, considering that your friend and I talked about you after you went to bed last night.”

A whooshing sound bursts into my head, making it spin.

“Yeah, you keep mentioning that.” A long moment passes during which I consider my next words. “So, what exactly did Mandy say?”

“That you talked about me.”

I swallow hard to get rid of the hot rush surging up my neck. “Yeah, in case you were a creep, which I think I’ve mentioned already.”

He inclines his head in mock agreement. “Or I got under your skin and you wanted her to hear all about it. It’s a preconception that women don’t talk about their sexscapades. In fact, they do it just as much as men.”

Of course he’d think that.

I smile sweetly. “Well, I won’t argue with you on that one because you seem to be the expert. But I can assure you in my case, it’s not true.”

“You don’t talk about your sexscapades?” His brows shoot up in amusement.

I sigh patiently.

What is it with this guy and his tendency to mangle my words?

“That’s not what I was trying to say.”

“So you do,” he says.

“No, I was referring to you getting under my—” I break off as I realize he’s messing with me and shake my head.

“You regretted not having slept with me.”

I roll my eyes, even though I know the gesture is so immature a guy like him will see right through it. “No. And no.” And before I can stop myself, I add, “No!”

“Strange, because she says you regret it,” Kellan says softly.

I stare at him.

Oh, my god.

I’m going to kill Mandy.

“She did?” I jump to my feet. “Where’s the phone?”

“In the living room. Not working.” He stands but doesn’t move from the spot. “Relax. It was a lie. She didn’t actually say that.”

I cross my arms over my chest as I regard him coldly. “Why would you lie?”

“I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Right.” I’m not a fan of confrontation. The entire situation has my mind racing. The last thing I need is for him to think I harbor regrets about not having spent the night with him.

“Please sit down, Ava,” Kellan says and walks around the table. Even though I don’t take shit from men, I find myself following his order. I can feel his presence behind me a moment before he leans over me, so close his breath brushes my earlobe and sends a shiver down my spine. “But you have to admit it’s something she could have said because it’s the truth.”

“You know nothing about me.” My voice comes out slightly choked.

Dammit.

His proximity does strange things to my body, and the fact that I’ve seen him naked doesn’t exactly help.

“On the contrary. You’re quite the open book.” With that, he returns to his seat and pours what looks like half a syrup bottle over his waffles.

“Wow.” I stare at him mesmerized as he starts eating. For the life of me, I can’t understand how anyone can shovel down that much sugar. “Do you always eat so much for breakfast?”

“Always.” He looks up, amused. “What can I say? I’m generally a hungry person who likes to eat out.”

He’s not talking about dining at restaurants. I can tell that from the naughty glint in his eyes.

My skin prickles at the implication and my heart races.

Kellan dips his finger into the puddle of syrup on his plate and holds it up to my mouth. “What about you?”

His gaze pierces mine, waiting.

The challenge is there.

I gingerly wrap my lips around his fingertip and let my tongue glide over it, then pull back.

Kellan’s eyes remain glued to my lips as my tongue flicks over them to lick off the sticky syrup.

“As far as I see it, we’re adults,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. “Consenting, sexually active adults who should have a bit of fun.”

Wicked fun sounds about what I’d like to have with him. If it just weren’t for the fact that I’m way too into him, and I get easily involved. Too easily, which makes for a dangerous combination.

He laughs at my gloomy expression. “I was talking about having a bit of fun outside. The livestock? Remember?”

Oh.

“Of course.”

He points to my shoes. “You cannot wear those.”

I look down at my boots. “Why not?” Okay, so they have heels, but they’re not stilettos.

“Tell me, Ava, have you ever been on a farm or climbed a mountain?”

“No,” I admit. “But they’re way more comfortable than you think, and I’m willing to learn.”

And I didn’t have time to pack sneakers.

His gaze is quizzical as he regards me and points to the food on the table. “Dig in. You’ll need the energy.”

“Why? A horse isn’t exactly hard work.”

He cocks his head, and slowly, a grin breaks across his face. “Who said anything about horses?”