In His Kiss (Love On The North Shore Book 4)

by Christina Tetreault

  “Seriously?”

  Striker ran his fingers through the silky strands and nodded. “Especially when it’s all you’re wearing.” He ran his other hand up her thigh and wished her leggings weren’t covering her skin. The pulse in her neck sped up and he kissed it as he slipped his fingers under the T-shirt.

  “I’m glad you didn’t get any better offers during the game.” He inched his hand up until he reached the spot where the waistband met skin.

  She swallowed, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. And he remembered the way it felt when she’d used her tongue on him. Instantly, he got hard.

  “Me, too.” Her mouth grazed his cheek before settling on his lips.

  Her lips caressed his and grew more demanding with each pass. Blood pounded in his ears when she slipped her tongue between his lips. Lust and desire raced through him, and he moved his hand up her stomach. Her muscles contracted under his palm, but she didn’t pull away. Hooking his index finger inside her bra, he pulled the material away and cupped her breast. Her soft skin and hard nipple burned his palm. If he didn’t make love to her tonight, he’d die.

  He ran his other hand down her spine. “I love you,” he whispered.

  In one movement, she pulled the shirt off and straddled him. She moved against him and moaned, her head falling back. When she did it again, he grabbed her waist and held her still. If she kept it up, he’d never be able to stop. He didn’t get a chance to explain before she took possession of his mouth again, her kiss raw and hot.

  She hadn’t come over intending to sleep with Striker. Then he’d gotten out of the car, his soaked T-shirt clinging to the body she knew so well. She might have survived that temptation, but then he pulled the stupid thing off and her body reminded her how long it’d been since he touched her. She’d always been a sucker for a guy with great abs, and Striker’s were superb. She’d managed to keep from jumping him right there, but only barely. Even when he’d come back in the room fully covered, she’d seen his naked torso standing there, begging to be touched. His admission about loving her in his clothes had been the final push off the ledge.

  Ella moved against him and pleasure radiated outward through her body. Slipping off his lap, she took his hand and tugged. In silence, she led him to his bedroom and closed the door. She didn’t want any four-legged furry friends following them.

  Grabbing the collar of his shirt, Striker pulled it off and tossed it over his shoulder. Her heartbeat rocketed and all she could think about was her naked skin pressing against his. Unfastening her bra, she dropped it to the floor by her feet. She took a step closer, her skin crying out to be in contact with his. But Striker stopped her. His large hand on her shoulder held her in place, and his gaze moved down her neck, across her breasts and stomach, heating her skin without a single touch. He looked up and met her eyes as the hand on her shoulder slipped down and cupped her breast. The pad of his thumb caressed and teased one nipple as he took the other into his mouth. Ready to step things up, she moved closer, her hand closing around the erection behind his zipper. Striker groaned and pulled his lips away from her breast. Both his hands settled on her waist. In one movement, he pulled her leggings and panties down, then kneeling, he pulled her feet free.

  She didn’t wait for him to finish undressing himself. Instead, she undid his jeans and pushed them down. His gray boxer briefs followed. The throbbing between her legs increased at the sight of him so ready, and having him touch her ruled her thoughts. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her body into his. “I want you,” she whispered in his ear.

  In a split second she landed on the bed, Striker over her. As he kissed and caressed her skin with one hand, the other pulled open his nightstand drawer.

  The sound snuck its way through her desire. Condoms. He still had them in his nightstand. How long had they been there? Were they leftovers from when they’d been together in the spring? Or were they there because of the women he’d brought back here after she left town? He’d admitted he’d slept with three women. He’d never said he’d only been with each one once. And while he’d gone to Cora’s at least once, how often had he brought those women here?

  Ice water replaced the heat in her body, and image after image of Striker and Cora having sex in his room ran through her head. Planting her hands on his biceps, she pushed him.

  Striker pulled back, his eyebrows pinched. His eyes searched her face before he spoke. “What’s wrong?”

  “How many did you bring back here?” Merde. What he did when they weren’t together shouldn’t make a stupid difference. But, damn, it did.

  He moved to the side, allowing her to sit up. “Huh?”

  “You’ve got condoms in the drawer. So how many times did you bring women back here this summer?” Even she realized her voice reeked of jealousy. Doing anything about it was impossible, though.

  Striker tossed the condom he held onto the nightstand. “None. The ones in the drawer have been there since we were together.”

  She wanted to believe him. He’d never lied before. Been an idiot, yes, but never lied. “Really?” She sounded like a three-year-old asking for reassurance.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve brought here.” He touched her cheek and kissed her forehead. “The only one I want here.”

  Ella swallowed his words, a missile straight to her heart.

  Striker moved so his lips hovered over her mouth. “Ever.” He kissed her tenderly.

  She reached for his arms again, this time pulling him down with her and infusing the desire and love she felt into her kiss.

  ***

  Ella pushed back the sheets and stood, giving him another excellent view of her body. A view he’d feared he’d never see again and one he’d never tire of seeing. “Stay here tonight.” Striker watched her pull his T-shirt back on, but didn’t make any move to put his clothes on.

  She slipped her panties back on, too, but not her leggings. Instead, she folded them and placed them on the bed before sitting down. Her shoulder brushed against him and his body remembered he had a half-dressed beautiful woman sitting in his bed.

  “The wedding starts at eleven. You’ll have time to go home and get ready in the morning.” When he’d invited her over, he hadn’t expected to ask her to stay the night. But he wanted to fall asleep with her and wake up tomorrow with her next to him more than anything.

  She took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “Okay.”

  Striker dropped his head against the headboard. She’d agreed. Looked like he was another step closer to having her back forever. “I downloaded the passport application. Just need a picture and I can bring it all to the post office.” He’d meant to tell her earlier, but more important and enjoyable matters had distracted him. Regardless of how much he didn’t want her to leave for a year, he wanted her to know he’d stick with her no matter what her decision.

  Ella nodded. “Sounds good. Let’s watch a movie or something.”

  “I like the or something idea.” He pulled the T-shirt up to her waist, revealing the purple boy-cut panties with comic book characters on them.

  “Thought you might.” Reaching under the sheet, she touched him.

  “Damn, that feels good.” Ella moved her hand on him and any other words slipped away.

  Chapter 12

  Ella unlocked her front door. She’d planned on getting up early and home long before now. Thanks to Striker, her plan got derailed. Rather than be awoken by the alarm she’d set, she’d been woken up by Striker’s lips slowly kissing their way down her stomach before settling between her legs. He’d then proceeded to make love to her with his mouth and tongue. Only after she’d drifted back down from the stars had he entered her and sent her over the edge again. Afterward he’d made them breakfast. He’d tried convincing her to shower there with him, arguing she had to do it anyway when she got home, so why not take care of it here with him instead? She’d known better. If she’d joined him, they would’ve found themselves back in his be
droom.

  She tossed her keys onto the table and they landed near the letter from France. When Striker mentioned applying for a passport, she should’ve told him the truth. She told herself she’d lied Wednesday because she wanted to see his reaction. See if he’d try to change her mind or simply walk away. He’d done neither. So now she had no reason not to tell him she didn’t plan on accepting. Still, she’d kept quiet last night. Even when it reflected poorly on him, like admitting he’d slept with other women while they’d been apart, he continued to give her the truth. He deserved the same from her.

  “I’ll tell him this weekend,” she said. The only question was, should she tell him she’d never even considered taking the position, or simply that she’d decided not to go? She’d clear her conscience if she admitted she’d lied. But was doing so worth ticking Striker off? No one liked to be lied to. And right now, things were going well. Did she want to jeopardize that? Worry about it later. Get dressed now.

  While she had plenty of options available, she decided on the gown she’d worn to Mack and Jessie’s wedding. After today, who knew when she might get another chance to wear it? It was simply too gorgeous to leave hanging in her closet. Unlike yesterday, this morning she put extra thought into her underwear choice as she searched through the drawer. Friday morning, she hadn’t even planned on seeing Striker, never mind making love to him. When she’d gotten dressed for work, she’d picked one of her favorite, most comfortable pairs of undies, a pair of purple cotton ones covered with comic book superheroes. She paired them with a green-and-white-striped bra. While she’d worn her less than sexy underwear around him before, she owned much more provocative sets. She went for them whenever she wanted to feel sexy or turn Striker on.

  “Just in case,” she said, pulling out a pair of the see-through lace hip huggers and matching strapless bra.

  Ella finished her makeup and recapped the mascara as the doorbell rang.

  “You look gorgeous.” He gave her the same sexy smile that attracted females to him like moths to a flame. “But I prefer the outfit you had on earlier.” His eyes dropped to her breasts and then lower. Her skin prickled under the inspection as she remembered his lips moving down her body hours ago.

  “I don’t think an old North Salem football T-shirt is right for this wedding.”

  Striker closed the space left between them. His hands cupped her butt and he pulled her against him, his erection pressing into her. “That wasn’t the outfit I meant, amoureux.”

  The previous Christmas he’d asked her how to say “sweetheart” in French. Afterward he’d started using the French version of the popular endearment. He hadn’t used it once since asking for a second chance. Hearing it now after so long, she realized how much she’d missed it.

  “Not appropriate for this wedding, either, unless there are some details you know and I don’t.”

  “Nope. But with a Hollywood celebrity involved, you never know.” He kissed her forehead, an odd spot in her opinion. “I figured you don’t want me to mess up the lipstick.” Striker dropped his hand and stepped back. “And since you probably don’t want me tearing your dress off, we should leave before I decide we should skip the wedding.”

  Ella’s smartphone rang before Striker finished backing out of the driveway. “Kelsey,” she explained after pulling it from her purse. Pressing Accept, she answered the call, already suspecting why her friend was calling.

  “Hey, have you left for the wedding yet?” Kelsey asked.

  “We just backed out of the driveway. Why?”

  “You’re with Striker.” She sounded disappointed. “I should’ve guessed you’d be with him.”

  Yep, Kelsey wanted a ride. “We can pick you up on the way.”

  Kelsey hesitated before she answered. “Only if Striker won’t mind.”

  “We’ll be over in a few.”

  “Kelsey needs a ride?” Striker asked after she lowered the phone.

  “Yeah. She doesn’t want to arrive alone.”

  Rather than head toward the center of town and the church, Striker turned left.

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  He stopped at the stop sign. “Nah, just seemed last-minute. Thought maybe her car wouldn’t start or something.” Striker pressed the accelerator again. “She went to Mack’s wedding alone, didn’t she? What’s different about today?”

  Ella considered her answer before settling on the truth. “Drew McKenzie will be there today. She’s hoping she’ll blend into the crowd and he won’t spot her. And I guess showing up with us instead of alone might help with that. Or at least make it less likely he’ll ask questions she doesn’t want to answer.”

  ***

  She’d never seen so many limos in one place. Limousines and super-stretch SUVs lined one side of Union Street. The parking lot next to Saint Mark’s overflowed with all types of cars. News vans from various stations were parked behind the long line of luxury vehicles. Already reporters and their camera crews were set up, waiting to catch a glimpse of not only the bride and groom but also all the celebrities who’d turned out today. She had agreed when Jessie said today would be a media circus, but still, she hadn’t been prepared for this.

  Striker turned right into Mack’s driveway rather than into the church parking lot across the street. “Glad Mack told me to park in his driveway. There’s no way we’d get a spot in the parking lot.”

  “This is nuts,” she said. “No wonder Sean and Mia secretly got married weeks ago.”

  “They did?” both Kelsey and Striker asked at the same time.

  Shoot. She’d promised Jessie she wouldn’t tell anyone. Thankfully, it didn’t matter anymore. “Sometime in August. Jessie told me. She watched Max for the weekend. They got married on Martha’s Vineyard. One of Mia’s friends has a house there. Only Mia’s sister, Tony, and Cat were there. They didn’t want this craziness spoiling their day.”

  Striker turned off the ignition and waved at Grace, Mack’s daughter, who’d appeared on the front steps. “Don’t blame them. Sean must be hating this.”

  Ella agreed. Sean was a private guy who didn’t call attention to himself. In the beginning, she’d found it odd that he’d fallen for Mia Troy, America’s Sweetheart. Mia had spent most of her life in front of the camera, first starring on a hit television show and then later in movies. Yet anyone with two eyes could see they loved each other and were happy.

  “Striker!” Grace jumped down the steps despite the pretty dress she wore, and ran toward him. “I taught Socks a new trick,” she said, hugging him before he managed a hello.

  Striker didn’t hesitate. He hugged her back and gave her braid a gentle tug. Ella remembered him once telling her he considered Grace a niece. And it was clear to see he cared about his best friend’s daughter. “I can’t wait to see.”

  “Is she telling you about Socks’s new trick?” Mack asked, coming outside with Jessie by his side.

  Grace sprinted back to her father. “Can I show them now? Please.”

  “After, Grace.”

  “But they won’t be here later.” Grace pouted, reminding Ella of her niece, Kerry, when she didn’t get her own way. “Please, Daddy. I’ll be quick. Promise.”

  “We don’t have time right now. The wedding starts soon,” Mack said.

  “Tell you what, Grace. After the wedding ceremony, we’ve got some time before the reception starts. We’ll come over then so you can show us,” Striker said, giving Ella yet another reason to love him. “How does that sound?”

  Grace considered for a moment before she answered. “Okay, if you promise you’ll come right after.”

  “Promise.”

  Together they walked across to the church. Although they’d gotten there a little early, many of the pews were already full when they walked inside.

  “My parents promised to save us some seats,” Striker said, leading her toward a pew.

  “Looks like Gram did the same,” Jessie said, following them since her grandparents and da
d sat near Striker’s parents.

  “You can sit with us, Kelsey. Looks like there’s room,” Striker said.

  Ella watched Kelsey glance around briefly when they stopped, and she knew just who her friend searched for. Then she slid into the pew next to Cat, who was already seated with her parents, and greeted everyone.

  “Wow! Is that Anderson Brady over there?” Kelsey asked, her voice low but full of excitement, the most excitement Ella had heard in Kelsey’s voice in a long time. “And I think Heidi Martel is two pews behind him.”

  She couldn’t resist looking across the aisle. Sure enough, the two Hollywood movie stars sat on the other side of the church. Since Mia moved to town, Ella had gotten to know her fairly well; not as well as Jessie, but she thought of her as a friend. She knew Mia had made a few movies with Anderson and considered him a good friend. The same was true of Heidi, a woman who actually started out as a fashion model before transitioning into movies.

  “Sara Hall is up front, too.” Kelsey nudged her arm.

  Ella looked to the front. Sure enough, Sara Hall, formerly Sara Sherbrooke, sat with her new husband, Christopher. She held her and Sean’s nephew, Garrett, in her arms.

  “What’s she doing here?” Kelsey asked, preventing Ella from seeing what other famous faces she recognized.

  Of the three of them, Kelsey had gotten to know Mia the least. “Sara and Mia are close friends. They met in college,” Cat answered, before her voice dropped lower. “Sean and Mia got married at her and her husband’s house on Martha’s Vineyard. You should’ve seen it. It was gorgeous. And right on the beach. If I had a place like theirs, I’d never leave it.”

  With Kelsey’s question answered, Ella went back to looking over the guests. She recognized several famous faces mixed in among the family and friends gathered in the church.

  “Oh, man.” Beside her, Kelsey slouched lower.

  “What’s wrong?” Ella asked, although she suspected she knew the problem.

  Kelsey pulled the hymn book out and opened it close to her face. “Drew just walked in.”