His Kiss (Summer in New York Book 2)

by Jolyse Barnett

  She set her empty glass in the sand beneath the chair and smiled at him, pushing away the last of her reservations. “For the sake of avoiding small talk and getting right to it, all I can think about are my lips on yours.”

  “Well said.” He grinned.

  She bit her lower lip in nervous anticipation. “The night’s too perfect to spoil with inconsequential details…like our names or day job demands or where we hail from.”

  Electricity thrummed between them, a tingle zipping through her while liquid heat pooled between her thighs. Was this the feeling she’d been missing her whole adult life? “Sooo…you mind if we kiss?”

  “Not at all.” With that, he erased the millimeters of space still separating their lips, his touch soft and searching at first, getting to know her in that man-to-woman sort of way before moving in harder and more passionate.

  She opened her mouth to him and their tongues tangled, their privacy protected by the beach’s high wall. His heat, surprisingly sweet, matched the expression she’d glimpsed in his silvery, blue eyes moments ago as he’d watched her swallow the last drops of her wine. She sighed, moving into his embrace as he leaned over the arm of his chair and caressed her shoulders, down the length of her bare arms. Don’t think. Just feel. She let her fingers roam through his silky mane, pulling him closer. She never wanted the kiss to end.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  Could he be dreaming?

  As far as Jeremy was concerned, the only thing better than being alone to think on a starlit night was hanging out with a hot, smart chick who knew what she wanted. She obviously liked to keep life simple, too. He was one lucky son of a bitch. She made it easy for him, asking him for a kiss. How did she know he wanted to taste her mouth, touch her silky skin, and mold his body against hers like this? Their physical connection soothed the torment in his soul, drowned the memories that had bobbed to the surface upon hearing that uncanny giggle back in the hotel.

  By her eager response, he could tell…she wanted it, too.

  Squelching his compulsion to understand what made women go crazy for the unattainable, he slid his lips over her cheek to the sensitive skin on the nape of her neck and nuzzled. Ahh. She smelled so damned good, feminine heat mixed with summer flowers. He inhaled and stifled a satisfied groan.

  He couldn’t get enough of her spice and sweetness. Leaning forward, he explored the softness near her collarbone, nipping gently and enjoying her sighs of pleasure. He slid his hands beneath her thin tee along her smooth rib cage and up, his thumbs grazing the rounded weight of her breasts. Another welcomed sigh escaped her and the roaring in his ears grew. He shifted. If only they could rid of these chairs, slide their heated bodies into the cool sand and do what came naturally.

  She moaned and pulled her lips from his, her dark eyes pooled with desire.

  Yeah, she definitely wanted it, too. He pushed the hair back from her face, kissing her forehead before dipping his head lower so he could explore more of her delicious body, his hands sliding around her slim waist to cup her ass.

  “Wait,” she breathed, placing her hands flat on his jacket, her eyes suddenly filled with more than pleasure.

  “What’s wrong?” He wanted her, this incredible creature he’d stumbled upon alone in the dark. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to snatch her away before they found relief. Would it?

  She gripped his lapels and stared at his chest. “This is…too much.”

  He smiled and leaned forward, amazed at how eager he was to continue his lazy exploration. “Can never have too much of a good thing. Want another?” In recent years, he’d skipped foreplay as much as small talk, hooked up with women who wanted to get down and dirty without the pretense of romance. This one confused him. First she wanted it, now she was backing off.

  She placed a hand on the center of his chest, her touch warm through the light fabric of his button-down. “I’m afraid I’m not as adventurous in my personal life as I am in my career.” She sighed. “As much as I want to go somewhere with you and…and see where this goes, I can’t.” She glanced up at him in the darkness, her eyes begging him to understand. Meanwhile, her fingers plucked restlessly at his shirt and her scent called him closer.

  He gazed at her lips.

  “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be a tease. I just can’t.” Her confession ended in a tortured whisper.

  He looked down and swallowed. The outline of her nipples strained against the fabric of her shirt, making it difficult to concentrate on her words. “Can’t?”

  “Won’t.” She smiled ruefully. “Don’t you see?” She leaned back, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she folded her hands primly in her lap. “I’m a good girl.”

  “Who likes bad boys?” He laughed softly, tempted to lift her and pull her onto his lap but he couldn’t give in to his need, wanting to respect her wishes. He may be a bad boy who preferred bad girls, but he’d never force any woman against her will. His mother had taught him better than that.

  She looked away. “Maybe I do.” Her voice held wonder.

  “So what are we going to do about that?” Part of him still wanted to change her mind, coax her into staying, and explore the fire between them some more.

  She shook her head sadly. “Sorry.”

  He leaned back into the beach chair once more and exhaled to release the tension. Her somber expression tugged at something deep inside, under the region of his solar plexus.

  “Look,” he said, “I had zero expectations when I set out on a stroll other than calming my mind. You—” He pointed between them. “This was a pleasant surprise.” He turned to watch the water lapping at the sand, reluctant to reveal his conflicted emotions. He wanted to know her, scratch the itch building within him, but it was too dangerous. If he didn’t send this nice girl packing he’d live to regret it.

  The rational part of him knew that didn’t make any sense. They’d just met. Her hesitation about getting physical too fast was a blessing in disguise, keeping his heart and—ultimately—his sobriety safe.

  Decision made, he stood and reached out a hand to pull her up. “At least let me walk you back to the resort.”

  She hesitantly accepted his offer, her eyes flying up to meet his upon the contact of their bare flesh. “Thanks.”

  He was at a loss. He’d only meant to let her brush against him when she stood, make her think twice about what she was passing up, but when their hands touched, something magical and memorable passed between them. It took all his strength not to haul her close and let down his guard.

  “A bad boy and a gentleman.” She slipped her hand out of his and returning it quickly to the safety of her pocket.

  The hand he’d held fit perfectly within his, like he imagined other more intimate parts of him would within her. He swallowed hard. “Things aren’t always what they seem.” He tore his gaze from hers before he did something foolish like cast away the last of his good intentions and ask for her name and number. It had been a lifetime since he’d felt so eager, past the point of want and hovering on the edge of need.

  But the cost was too steep.

  With every step along the narrow strip of beach, another wave of desire washed over him and he bit off a curse. Back toward reality, back toward his solitary life. That’s what I truly need. For a brief moment, he’d made the mistake of falling completely in sync with another person.

  He’d known in an instant. She was dangerous. She could reach inside him. She could make him feel things he’d locked away and vowed never to feel again. She was special. If he’d been thinking straight, he would have turned around on the beach as soon as he laid eyes on her, walked back to his suite, and locked the door.

  But it wasn’t too late. She had pulled away before he’d begun to care.

  They reached the stairway, the music louder now. People at the bar would be able to see them standing under the glow of the tall lamp.

  She must have realized it, too, racing up the steps before turning back to him
, glancing at him sideways, her long, dark hair hiding one side of her flushed face. “Well, I’d say it was nice meeting you, but I won’t because, well, you know, that would constitute small talk.” She threw him a wistful smile over her shoulder as she jogged toward the bar, away from him, out of his life. He watched as two polished young women on the bar’s deck followed her progress. They wore trendy, designer clothes with a casual confidence he recognized from years as a Starling townie serving the Adirondack tourists. Her sisters?

  He sighed. That was close. Not only was the woman he’d kissed on the beach as tempting to him as putting pen to paper, she was from a different world, one he’d never belong in no matter how long he tried.

  He looked at his hand, the cool, night air having erased the heat and comfort of her touch and cursed before shoving it into a trouser pocket. He shook his head. Being away from his home was the problem, not the absence of the woman who’d held his hand. He ignored the sinking sensation in his middle and strode up the long hill to the resort, turning his thoughts to the chapter yet to be revised as he fingered the coins he always carried in his pocket.

  *

  Elizabeth stepped onto the deck of the crowded waterfront bar and scanned one preppy group after another until she spied her two younger sisters at a high, round table covered with the remains of chicken wings and half-finished cocktails.

  Tory smiled at her, her expressive brown eyes wide, her face framed by shoulder-length, auburn curls. “You look rejuvenated—amazing what a little alone time can accomplish. That light in your eyes is amazing and your cheeks are so rosy. Wait, if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect—”

  “Stop,” Elizabeth said.

  Damn. They knew. She slunk onto the stool opposite them.

  Claire sipped her mojito, her sleek, black hair tucked behind both ears. “We saw you with that guy. Why didn’t you invite him over?”

  “Better yet, why didn’t you invite him to your suite?” Tory grinned.

  “We talked.” Elizabeth stared at the bar menu on their table, reluctant to reveal any details quite yet. The experience was too new, too unexpected. She shifted on the seat of the stool. “It was nice.” She didn’t need to tell them she’d considered asking the man to join her but had dismissed the idea almost as soon as she had thought of it. He wasn’t the type of guy looking for a relationship so much as a hook up. As much as he tempted her, she couldn’t. Like she’d blurted out in her confusion, being next to him was overwhelming. And she was all about control. The guys she had once dated were too mild, this one too wild. She just needed to find a guy in the middle. A guy that turned her on without turning her inside out. A guy ready for a real, adult relationship, one complete with dating and slow, sweet sex and emotional intimacy. All she would ever share with that man would be a memory of a brief, interesting conversation and one phenomenal kiss.

  “Are you with us, Elizabeth?”

  She looked up. “Hmm?”

  Tory planted a hand on her slender hip. “You buying that, Claire? You think all they did was talk? She doesn’t have a speck of lipstick left, and I can guess who’s wearing it now.”

  Her youngest sister shook her head. “Truth.”

  The two pinned their gazes on her.

  Elizabeth pulled the borrowed items from her pocket and set them on the table. “There’s nothing to share.”

  “C’mon,” Tory cajoled. “You’re dazed and confused. I’ve never seen you like this over a guy. You’ve got to tell us. What does he have that Donovan doesn’t? What did you two do?”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together.

  “At least give up his name,” Claire pleaded.

  “Don’t have it.” She stifled a sigh, sadness sweeping over her. She’d never see him again. She had no way of contacting him. Their promise to avoid small talk had eliminated that possibility.

  “Drink?” Tory waved a hand in front of her.

  “Yeah. Why not?” She nodded, pushing thoughts of finding her mystery man to the back of her mind. She could fantasize about those warm, demanding lips and how quickly her body had responded to their silent invitation later when she was alone in her bed. “This weekend is all about us, about celebrating.” She smiled to assure her younger sister she was back to being her staid, sensible self. “We’ll drink to Claire’s new personal best in the Boston Marathon, your Masters in business, and the first Body Gear Athletics store.”

  “Aww, that race was months ago. Let’s focus on you guys. I can’t imagine sticking it out another two years of classes. Good for you,” Claire said, holding her drink up to cheer their middle sister before turning to her. “And it’s so romantic, isn’t it, opening your shop in the town where Mother and Dad fell in love?”

  Elizabeth signaled the server passing by. “I know, right? Plus Gram and Gramps are living at Braiden Farm full-time now. I’ll be able to check in on them while Mother and Dad are on their Alaskan tour next month.”

  “I almost wish I weren’t heading out so soon,” Claire said, referring to her upcoming training stint in Denver.

  “I’ll be here to help out.” Tory wrapped an arm around their little sister’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. There will be plenty of time ahead for you to work your fingers to the bone. Enjoy your freedom.”

  Claire’s brows furrowed. “But you two are free.”

  Elizabeth remembered being so naïve. “Single, yes. Free, no. The business is a responsibility. I love it, wouldn’t trade it for the world, but these first few years I’ve ignored my personal life to make it a success.”

  “That’s why you should have hooked up with that guy.” Tory nudged her in the side.

  “Are you crazy?” Claire’s eyes went wide but a smile hovered at her lips. “He could have been a serial killer, or worse.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Or, he could have been ultra-needy, like my last boyfriend,” Tory half-joked. “Ugh. No more puppies for me, thank you very much.”

  “That guy, from the little I saw of him, didn’t resemble a puppy. Not whatsoever. He was smoking hot in that suit.” Claire put her chin in her hands, hazel eyes dreamy.

  Elizabeth tamped down a sudden flare of annoyance. “Now do you see why I didn’t invite him over here? All you think about is sex.”

  “You should think about it once in a while too, Liz,” Claire countered, “Maybe then you wouldn’t be so stressed all the time.”

  “I’m relaxed.” Elizabeth concentrated on dropping her shoulders.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Tory finished off her drink. “Like I said, I get the feeling you two did a little more than talk. But we’ll let you keep a secret or two—if you buy the next round.” She held up her empty glass.

  Eager to end the conversation, Elizabeth nodded in agreement. She’d had plenty of sex back in college. She understood the mechanics, had been with nice guys who seemed to know what they were doing, but she had always wondered if there wasn’t something missing. Until tonight. Her immediate, full-blown response to the stranger on the beach—even before she shamelessly asked for a kiss—had taken her by surprise. If she could barely manage control of her body and emotions after one kiss, what would’ve happened if they’d gone further? She shivered with the possibilities. No, her only choice had been to run. Someday she’d meet a man with skills who also stimulated her intellectually, but didn’t bulldoze her senses like her mystery man.

  “Great then. How about sex on a beach?” Claire piped in, her expression innocent.

  Elizabeth almost swallowed her tongue. If only.

  Chapter Three

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  Jeremy stared out the eastern window from his secluded corner in The Sagamore’s main lobby. In a few minutes, he’d join his family for brunch and the weekend of obligations would be over. He’d done it. He’d survived.

  So why wasn’t he happier?

  Earlier, he’d watched the sky blush pink, the sun chasing away pre-dawn grays to reveal the distant greens of the Green Mountains and shimmering blues of Lake
George. That was before he’d sketched three illustrations for the next chapter and drank two paper cups of coffee, before he’d watched the woman from the beach get off the elevator, her tight, little body sheathed in high-end athletic wear. Neon pink and black had never looked so sexy.

  He got hard just thinking about it. But that wasn’t why he’d slunk low into his chair, willing the grand piano and droopy leaves of potted plants to hide him from view. He couldn’t bear to turn her away a second time. She’d walked out the front exit, clueless to his presence, and he told himself it was for the best.

  If he really didn’t want to see her again then why did he look up whenever the elevator door opened or another guest entered the building? He gripped his pencil harder and concentrated on finishing the background for his sketch.

  The elevator dinged.

  He kept his head down.

  Heels clicked across the stone floor, hesitant at first, then faster. Purposeful.

  Sweat tickled as it ran down the side of his cheek in the air-conditioned room. He gripped the pencil tighter, his fingertips turning white.

  “Hey, why are you hiding over here? We got your message, but I almost missed you.”

  Hearing his sister Jade’s voice, he exhaled and loosened his grip on the pencil. “Getting some work done.” He closed the sketch pad and stood to hug her. Jade glowed as a bride should. Ben brought out the best in her. Hell, Ben brought out the best in a lot of people, including him. “Good morning, Mrs. Stephens.” He teased.

  “Sounds weird, huh?” Jade grinned. “But I’ll get used to it.”

  Ben approached his wife with a tender smile. “You’d better.” He motioned toward the restaurant. “Our tables will be ready in five. They were very understanding about us wanting some privacy after the barrage of autograph requests Ryan and Jake encountered last night.”

  Jade nodded. “I guess the guys are used to it, being in the spotlight as pro hockey players, and they seemed happy to oblige the fans, but I don’t want their meal interrupted if we can help it.”