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.