Page 38 of Beautiful Distraction

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

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

I sigh at his infuriatingly sweet tone. “Okay, let’s tryagain. So, what is it that you do? Irritate the hell out of a woman so shegives 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 toenlighten me.

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

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

Before I know it, he grips my chin between his fingers andleans forward. Our breaths intermingled, I’m forced to meet his green gaze, andI 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, primitivedetermination.

The kind I don’t possess.

He’s used to getting what he wants. I knew that from thefirst moment I saw him. What I didn’t expect was that, for some reason, hemight be wantingme.

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

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

I shake my head, more out of need to convince myself that noman could have such an effect on me than disagreement. “Be that as it may, you’renot everyone’s type to handle, and I can assure you I’m not interested ingetting 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 dobefore they die.”

“Wow. You have me down to a T.” He eyes me, amused. “So, whydon’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 ita 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 muchto handle. Too much obnoxiousness.”

“I never thought I’d hear a woman say something like that tome. 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.

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