“What about it?”

“It’s hot.” As though the word doesn’t convey the rightmeaning, 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 whatto 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 sayin the kind of raspy voice that betrays just how much I’d like him to touch meand show me what I’m missing.

His brow shoots up in amusement. “Why? Because you’d like ittoo much?”

“No.”

“Ava,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I know you’ll enjoy it.” He raises his bottle. “Here’s tous meeting again. To new beginnings.”

I eye him cautiously as we clink our bottles, and then wechug down a few gulps. I feel the effect instantly. My head is lighter, mylimbs like jelly.

“Wow. You’re right. This is the best beer I’ve ever had,” Isay.

He leans forward. I expect my body to go rigid, but insteadI find myself strangely relaxed.

“You’ll be panting my name as I take you on the ride of yourlife.”

Emphasis on the ride.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s resuming ourconversation 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 theword 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 adirty turn?

“I’m so not going to answer that, Kellan.” I cross my armsover my chest and manage to draw his attention to my hard nipples.

“Because you’ve never tried,” he says, as usual convincedthat he knows everything.

Arguing with a guy who thinks he’s the living and breathingequivalent of Adonis is a waste of time. Arguing with one who thinks he’s allthatandall-knowing is like bangingyour head against a wall. I like my head the way it is, so I’m not even goingthere.

I swat his hand off my ass and put a few inches of spacebetween us. “No. Because it’s none of your business.”

“Fine.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “But justsome food for thought. The uptight ones are always the ones that enjoy it themost. Give me a night, and by morning you’ll be screaming for more.” He guzzlesdown half of his beer as I stare at him.

Wait, did he just call me uptight?