Striker (K19 Security Solutions Book 6)

by Heather Slade

  “Of course I do.” Striker shook his hand.

  “I haven’t been gone that long, Raze,” said the man those in the intelligence world knew as Eighty-eight.

  “Feels that way. More so for those three though,” Razor added, pointing at Aine, Ava, and Quinn. “Lots of luck getting your wife’s attention now, man.”

  Mercer smiled. “I’ve had her undivided attention for months. I can share.”

  Striker, on the other hand, hadn’t had Aine’s attention, and he found himself craving it, no matter how much he knew he shouldn’t.

  When he looked over to where the three women sat in the living room, she turned her head, and their eyes met. The smile she gave him settled over him like the warmest blanket. He wished so much he could accept the love she so freely gave him, but he couldn’t. He loved her too much in return to do that to her.

  —:—

  “You look fantastic,” Aine said to Quinn, hugging her for the tenth time.

  “Thanks. I feel fantastic.”

  “Tell us about everywhere you’ve been. God, it feels like we haven’t seen you in years,” said Ava.

  Quinn laughed. “On one hand, it feels as though we were just here yesterday, and on the other hand, I agree with you. How are Penelope and Tara?”

  “They’re planning to be here for Thanksgiving.”

  Quinn clapped her hands. “The tribe will be back together again. We haven’t been since Ava and Razor’s wedding. By the way, didn’t you and Striker get together?”

  “It was short-lived.”

  “Really?” asked Quinn, looking over at Striker. “He can’t take his eyes off of you.”

  “We’ll tell you more about that later, when we’re alone,” said Ava.

  Quinn looked back and forth between her and her sister. “I’m intrigued.”

  “Maybe you can help us solve the mystery.”

  Quinn stood. “I could use a walk on the beach. What about you two?”

  Ava laughed. “I have to finish getting dinner ready, but we’ll have our chance soon enough. My guess is that when we’re finished eating, the K19 boys will retreat downstairs and hole themselves up in my husband’s office.”

  “Mercer has a lot of catching up to do,” agreed Quinn.

  “Come keep me company in the kitchen.”

  Aine and Quinn followed Ava and stepped aside when she shooed the three men out of their way. As he passed, Striker’s arm brushed Aine’s. She felt his touch from the top of her head to her toes, and judging by the look on his face, he felt it too.

  She couldn’t wait to get Quinn’s take on Striker’s sudden shift where their relationship was concerned. Maybe she could help her and Ava figure why his sister’s death had played such an integral role in their breakup.

  “I had no idea what a good cook you were,” said Quinn, eyeing the four courses Ava was busy putting the finishing touches on.

  “I love it. How could you not in a kitchen like this.” Ava waved her arm around the large space. “The one in our house in Yachats is even better.”

  “I remember,” said Quinn, dipping a spoon into the sauce Ava was preparing. “Oh my God, that’s so good.”

  “Steak Diane is one of Tabon’s favorites.”

  At the same time she mentioned his name, Tabon walked into the kitchen with a platter of ribeyes. “The ones on the right are medium rare, and those on the left are closer to well done. Let them rest for a few minutes.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ava teased.

  Tabon put his arms around his wife’s waist. “I’ll open another bottle of wine.”

  “Oh my goodness,” gasped Ava. “I didn’t even offer Quinn anything to drink.”

  “That’s okay. I haven’t forgotten how to ask.”

  “Would you like a glass?” Tabon asked as he pulled the cork.

  “No, thanks. I’ll stick with water.”

  Both Aine and Ava spun around at the same time, and when they did, Quinn nodded her head and patted her belly.

  “Four months.”

  The three squealed and fell into a group hug.

  “I’m so happy for you,” said Aine.

  “To be honest, I was a little worried about how you’d feel—you know, being around the baby.”

  “Where is Sam anyway?”

  “Still napping,” Aine answered for her sister, pointing to the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen counter. “I guarantee he’ll wake up as soon as we sit down for dinner.”

  Sure enough, the minute the serving dishes were on the table and Ava had taken a seat, they heard Sam’s wails through the monitor.

  “I’ll get him,” offered Aine.

  “Thanks, Sis,” said Ava.

  She was almost to the baby’s room when she met Striker coming out of the restroom.

  “Where are you off to?” he asked, meeting her in the hallway.

  “To get Sam,” she answered, pointing to the door. “Although by the sound of it, he may have fallen back to sleep.”

  Aine peeked her head in and saw the baby’s eyes were open. “There he is,” she murmured, plucking him out of the crib. “Do you need a diaper change, sweet boy?”

  When she carried him over to the changing table, she noticed that Striker still stood in the doorway. She smiled.

  “Do you want to help?”

  He held up both of his hands. “I can assure you that I won’t be any help whatsoever. In fact, I’ll probably make it harder on both of you.”

  “Changing a baby isn’t as complicated as extracting kidnapping victims from a foreign country, Striker.” By the time she finished her sentence, though, she was done putting on a new diaper and changing the baby’s clothes.

  “You’re really good at that.”

  Aine laughed. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  “Your sister is lucky to have you around.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” she said, nuzzling Sam. “I love him so much.”

  Aine watched as Striker’s smile turned into a frown, no matter how hard he tried to mask it. It was another clue. Seeing her holding her nephew made him happy and sad at the same time. What was that all about?

  “We should get back. They might be waiting for us to start eating.”

  “Right,” he said, motioning for her to go by him. For the second time today, their bodies brushed against each other. This time, she heard his quick intake of breath. If he was so affected by their touch, why in God’s name had he broken up with her? She felt as though the question had burned itself on her brain, and most of the time, it was all she could think about.

  Aine stopped and looked into his eyes. She was close enough that, if she wanted to, she could bring her lips to his. Instead, she held her breath as he stroked his finger down the baby’s cheek and then hers. The sadness in his eyes as he did almost brought her to tears.

  10

  Striker should ask Razor if tomorrow they could work anywhere but here, where he’d likely run into Aine multiple times a day. He knew his teammate would refuse, and Striker couldn’t blame him. Why be away from his gorgeous wife and son when he didn’t have to be?

  “Where are you staying?” Mercer asked Striker as they were getting ready to leave.

  “The house in Harmony.”

  “Spent many nights there,” Mercer commented. “I have to admit, I don’t miss it.”

  “How’s your new place coming along?” Razor asked.

  “It’s inhabitable,” Quinn answered, laughing. “That’s all I can say about it.”

  Mercer pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “We’ll get there, precious.”

  “We better hurry,” she said, rubbing her belly. “We have to finish the nursery at least.”

  “Congratulations again,” said Razor, shaking Mercer’s hand.

  “Same,” said Striker, holding his hand out too, somewhat surprised at his own sincerity. He didn’t remember ever caring one way or another when someone said they were having a baby, or had had one.

 
“Thanks,” said Mercer. “I know Quinn said we have to have the nursery done, but I’m determined to have the whole house finished before our baby is born.”

  “When’s that?” asked Striker, surprising himself a second time. Since when did he pay attention to shit like this?

  “Late April if the doctor’s got it right.”

  Striker watched as Aine and Ava both hugged Quinn as though it was the last time they’d see her for a while.

  “See you tomorrow?” she said to both of them, making Striker smile.

  “We have to start planning your baby shower,” said Ava.

  When he looked over at Aine, she was looking at him too.

  “Walk me out?” he asked her.

  “Uh…sure.”

  He thanked Razor and Ava, told them he’d be back the next day, and put his hand on the small of Aine’s back as they walked out the door.

  “I had a nice time tonight,” he said, trying to sound more like her friend than her lover, but having a hard time not falling into the rhythms of when they used to be a couple.

  “I did too. It was so good to see Quinn again.”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I heard.”

  “Will you be okay with me being around so much?”

  She shrugged. “I might not be.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Still leaving?”

  “No. I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice.”

  “I get it, but I meant what I said before, Aine. I want us to be able to be friends.”

  “Are you friends with all your previous lovers?”

  Striker had to think about it for a minute, but yeah, he was with the ones he still saw occasionally, like Merrigan.

  “Goodnight, Striker,” she said before he could answer or give in to the temptation to kiss her goodnight.

  The drive from Razor’s duplex to Harmony was short, but like Mercer said about the place, it wasn’t a house he’d miss staying in if there was another option. Maybe tomorrow he’d see if he could find something closer to the beach, so he’d be able to enjoy his time here a little more.

  When Aine said she liked to listen to the ocean before she went to sleep, he’d envied her. Maybe he could rent a place where he could open up the sliding doors, or even windows, and listen to the waves crashing all night long. He doubted if they would actually lull him to sleep, and if they did, he wouldn’t stay that way for very long. In his line of work, sleep was a luxury, whether it was because you were on a mission or because you were reliving a past one.

  “What the hell am I doing?” he said to himself. He turned the car around and drove back to Moonstone Beach. He drove up to Cambria Shores Inn and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the vacancy sign lit up. There was no reason for him to stay in a shit-hole safe house until he found a place to rent. Instead, he’d stay here, the place where he and Aine had stayed the first time they were intimate.

  “Griffin Ellis,” he told the woman behind the desk when she asked for his name.

  “Mr. Ellis, welcome back. It’s so good to see you again.”

  He couldn’t say for certain that he remembered seeing her before, but he had had quite a lot on his mind the last time he was here.

  “You’re in luck. Room four is available if you’d like it.”

  “Sure. Thanks,” he responded, not knowing whether it was a good idea to relive every detail of being here with Aine.

  Once he had the key, Striker moved his car to the parking spot in front of the room and carried his bag inside. The old motor lodge had been refurbished a couple of years ago with new furniture and bathrooms. He wasn’t sure if the fireplace had been there all along and they’d refaced it, or if it had been added. Either way, it was a nice touch.

  The best part, though, was that he could step outside his door and feel the mist from the ocean on his face. With the window open, he could hear the same waves crashing that he imagined Aine was hearing.

  He closed his eyes and pictured her lying on the bed, the windows open even though it was chilly, or even sitting out on the deck of the house, like she had in Yachats.

  Pulling back the comforter, Striker couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d been in this same room, only then he’d been with Aine.

  The look of vulnerability on Aine’s face had the opposite effect of the one it should have had on him. His need only accelerated when he thought about how nervous she was. He stood in front of her, taking the pins out of her hair and dropping them on the table next to them.

  “I’ve thought about weaving my fingers in your hair so many times,” he said, stroking gently at first, knowing soon he wouldn’t be able to be.

  He scooped her in his arms with a sudden movement and took two steps to the bed, setting her down on it.

  “You have the most beautiful skin,” he said as he stroked the soft spot beneath her ear. “Has anyone told you how soft it is?”

  “No one. Only you.”

  “Has anyone kissed you here, Aine? You can tell me the truth.”

  He trailed his lips from her ear, back to her nape, holding her hair out of his way so he could run his tongue down her spine. Aine’s fingers gripped the bedding, and chill bumps covered her exposed skin. If this was her reaction to simple kisses, he couldn’t imagine how responsive she’d be once he got her naked.

  “The things I want to do to you,” he murmured.

  “I want you to. Everything you want, I want you to do it.”

  His fingers slid between the fabric of her blouse and her skin until he felt the clasp on her bra. He unfastened it—wanting everything at once. He wished he could magically remove her shirt and pants at the same time so she’d instantly be naked before him. Instead, he stood. If it couldn’t be quick, he’d savor it.

  “Stand and remove your clothes, Aine.” The same look of vulnerability he’d seen moments ago settled on her face. “Do it, Aine. Let me see you. I want to see all of you.”

  Her fingers visibly trembled as she did as he asked, removing every piece of clothing covering the most perfect body he’d ever seen.

  Her breasts were plump and heavy, with rose-colored nipples that pulled tight into nubs hardened by her desire.

  “Come closer to me,” he told her, sitting in the chair and opening his legs so she could stand before him, close enough to touch.

  He started at her face, running his fingers over her lips, down her chin, to her neck. He flattened both hands and grasped each of her breasts at the same time. She gasped when he kneaded them, likely harder than anyone ever had before.

  Striker could only be gentle so long, and it was best she learned that upfront. He’d take possession of her body without hesitation, and if she didn’t like it, he would know they didn’t belong together. Something told him that she wouldn’t disappoint him. His hands trailed farther down her body, pulling her closer to him so he could feel every inch of her, own every inch of her.

  “Do I scare you?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Aine.” He put his hands on her waist and held tight.

  “Touch me,” she pleaded, arching her back to bring her sex closer to him.

  Unable to resist her pleas, Striker forced her back on the bed. Her eyes widened as she watched him shed his clothes.

  “Spread your legs, Aine. I want to look at you.”

  She didn’t hesitate.

  “Touch yourself, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

  Her fingers trailed to the place between her legs where he couldn’t wait to have his own hands and mouth.

  “Eyes open,” he said, lowering himself over her and taking one nipple between his teeth. “Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” he asked between nips of her flesh.

  “No,” she stammered.

  He took his time making his way down her body until his mouth was where her fingers were. He grasped her wrist and brought them to his mouth. She groaned when he licked away her wetness.

  �
�Still, Aine,” he said when her body began to writhe.

  “I can’t,” she moaned. “God, Griffin, I need you.”

  “Soon, baby,” he soothed, putting his mouth back on her.

  By the time he was ready to join their bodies together, Aine was almost in tears.

  “I can’t,” she said each time he coaxed her to the plateau of another orgasm.

  “You can. Do it for me, Aine. Show me how good I make you feel.”

  When he brought his body to hers and entered her for the first time, he came close to climaxing the minute he was inside her.

  “Be still,” he said as he had before.

  She calmed herself, taking deep breaths.

  “Look at me.”

  She opened her glistening eyes, keeping their focus on his.

  “It’s perfect,” he moaned. “You’re perfect.”

  He couldn’t quell the urgency he felt now that he was finally with the woman he’d spent so many nights dreaming of.

  Sex between them had only gotten better. If he’d been asked to define the perfect woman for him, it would be Aine. Whenever they were together, it was impossible for him to keep his hands off of her.

  When they’d touched by accident today, he felt the same sense of urgency to take her and make her his that he had every other time their skin had come in contact.

  There had been no woman before, and there’d be no woman after who would be as perfect as she was.

  That he couldn’t have her, couldn’t claim her as his forever, tore him up inside. Sure, he could be a selfish bastard and tell her the real reason he’d broken up with her. He could accept it when she told him it didn’t matter. She might even suggest they adopt children, just so she could be with him.

  None of that would change the fact that the same thing may live inside of him as with his sister. Whether it manifested itself now or never, he couldn’t risk putting Aine through it. She’d already been through too much.

  Her father had been a monster. He couldn’t be the man who forced her to live her life with him when he knew he could be just as monstrous. He was damaged, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.