Page 5 of Beautiful Distraction

He’s the one driving like a moron, and he’s still trying toblamemeforhisshortcomings?

And what kind of accent is that?

A slight drawl, rather subdued, as though he’s trying tohide it.

No one’s ever made me hot and bothered by justtalkingto me, and it’s not even dirtytalk.

I can’t help closing my eyes for a moment, enjoying theonset of sexual tension. When I open them barely a second later, I find himstaring at me, his tongue tracing his lower lip.

And is that the slightest hint of a smile I glimpse on hislips?

It can’t be because that would imply he’s—

Laughing at me.

I cringe.

“Jerk,” I mutter.

“Really? Do you know who I am?” he asks, completelyoblivious to my growing annoyance with him.

My brows shoot up. “Should I? I don’t think so…unless you’vedone something worth remembering, like saving the world or—”

I gesture with my hand, trying hard to think of somethingthat could prove my point. Truth is, I most certainlywouldn’tforget him if I knew who he was because he’s anything butforgettable.

His grin turns into laughter. I stare at him, confused.

I just insulted his expensive ass.

Why the fuck is helaughing?

“Trust me, if Ididsomething, you wouldn’t be asking. You’d definitely be feeling it for days tocome.” His green gaze shimmers, challenging me. “I might be a jerk, but I’m thekind of jerk who always lets the woman come first. And not just once.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

Sensing my confusion, he continues, “Either way, I’m okaywith settling this incident privately.”

“How do you propose we do it?”

“I know a few ways.” His lips crack open into a smile.

My jaw drops. Is he hitting on me? Can’t be because—

“What?” I croak, my voice suddenly hoarse and my body onfire. My nipples strain against the thin fabric of my top, and most certainlynot because of the cool NYC air.

Oh, the traitors!

Mr. Sex On Legs licks his lips slowly and deliberately, hisgaze seemingly glued to my heaving chest. He doesn’t eventryto hide the fact that he’s eye-fucking my breasts. Hell, in hisdirty mind, I’m probably eagle-spread on his bed with him on top of me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t follow.” I shake my head, trying to makesense of his words. “What are you talking about?”

“You can repay the damage by going out with me tonight,” hesays. “After which we can head over to my place.”

I blink once, twice. My mouth parts ever so slightly. Mylabored breath barely makes it past my suddenly parched lips.

Fuck, that’s hot!

Oh, I want that.

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