Free Beautiful Distraction by J.C. Reed Page A

sending my
insides into a jumbled frenzy of stirred emotions. The hair is definitely
longer than it was back in NYC, and the crisp businessman look is gone. The
slightest hint of dark stubble throws shadows on his cheeks and chin, and he
looks surprisingly sexy in yet another pair of faded denims and a snug shirt
that leaves little to the imagination. Without a doubt, he’s the most stunning
man I have ever seen. And I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself in
his presence. I’m the most reasonable and composed person I’ve ever known.
Nothing ever fazes me, and yet, for some reason, I can’t be my usual cool self
around him. Particularly not now, with all those vivid memories occupying my
mind.
    Does he know I watched him jerk off?
    Impossible. His eyes were closed the whole time, and I’m
sure I stood there no longer than two minutes. I mean, surely no one can hold
their breath for longer than that.
    But did he hear my moans through the thin walls?
    I tried to be quiet, but how quiet can you be when you’re
lost in sexual nirvana?
    That was the question that bothered me immediately after I
came. Even if he heard me, why shouldn’t I consider it only fair that he be
embarrassed too? After all, fair is fair.
    Why am I even pondering over what can’t be changed now?
    Because he can’t possibly know.
      I need to push
this memory to the back of my mind—deny it, bury it deep inside my
subconscious, so that not even a Freud follower could extract it. I’m going to
lie to myself until the lie becomes the truth. How hard can that be?
    Until then, it’s going to be my secret.
    My terrible, hot…hot…hot secret.
    Oh, God.
    No one has a cock like Kellan: big, engorged, perfect in its
size and thickness.
    No one redefines jerking off the way he does. He’s the
reinvention of holy hotness.
    I’m such a lost cause. If Sigmund Freud were still alive, I
know what he’d tell me, and it wouldn’t be pretty.
    “Everything okay? You look a little flustered,” Kellan
remarks.
    “Yeah. I just had a—”
    Bad dream , I
wanted to say, but I can’t, because then I would have to lie and claim the
dream was most certainly not about him, nor about his gift of a manhood to the
female population.
    “You had what?” Kellan prompts.
    “I just couldn’t—”
    Sleep.
    What the hell!
    I can’t say that either because he might think that I heard
him. If he so much as catches a whiff of the idea that I sneaked around last
night, I’m so going down. Big and fast—like the way he pumped into his
palm.
    Shit.
    The words big and fast are making me horny.
    “Mmmh.” Kellan nods as though he totally gets me, which I’m
sure he doesn’t. “So, you slept well? The fresh country air must have knocked
you out.”
    “Yeah,” I mutter. “I slept like a stone. No, make that a
boulder.” What the fuck am I saying? That doesn’t make any sense. I let out a
nervous laugh. Heat rolls over my body in thick, fast waves, and the tender
spot between my legs begins to pulsate again. I need to get this guy out of my
bedroom. “Thanks for letting us stay the night.”
    “No problem.” He leans against the doorframe and regards me,
amused. “It’s nice to have company. Your friend told me a bit about you after
you left.”
    Judging from Kellan’s grin, Mandy’s revealed all the crappy
details of my failed love life and all the embarrassing, cringe-worthy
incidents that came with it.
    I’m all for honesty, just not to a hot guy.
    Glaring at Kellan, I pray to God she’s kept her mouth shut
for a change.
    If she didn’t, I know I’ll have to kill her and dump her
body, and I’m not sure I have the guts for it.
    The only reason I’m not taking the bait and asking what
exactly she said is because I really need him to leave.
    “I’m making breakfast,” Kellan says casually. His gaze
slides over me, from my tousled hair down to my breasts almost spilling out of
my bra and the not exactly matching but comfortable panties I