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He recognized the woman. She was Ava McNamara’s twin, Aine, and she took his breath away. With her tan skin, sandy blonde hair, and curves that made his mouth water, she looked like the quintessential California girl. He knew better, though; she’d been raised on the East Coast.
As he got closer and their eyes met, he saw that hers were deep blue like the ocean.
The brief ceremony became a blur. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of Aine.
“Hi,” he said, intercepting her as she walked between clusters of people.
She put her hand on her heart.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Striker.”
“I’m Aine,” she said, putting her hand in his to shake. “It’s nice to meet you…uh…Striker.”
“Actually, it’s Griffin. Griffin Ellis.”
“Right,” she said, motioning toward Razor, Gunner, and some of the other guys. “You all have special names.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything special about them.”
“I like Griffin.”
“Thanks. I like Aine.”
She smiled, her cheeks flushed, and she looked at her hand still clasped in his, but she didn’t try to pull away.
“Do you know if there will be dancing later?” God, had he really just asked her that? There had to be fewer than thirty people standing on the sand, most barefooted. He wondered if they’d even have food.
“Actually, there will be.”
“Food?”
“No.” She laughed. “Dancing. Are you hungry?”
“Maybe a little. I can go grab something—”
“Come with me,” she said, pulling him by the hand that was still holding hers.
“Where are we going?”
“Kitchen. It’s this place where they have…food.”
Damn, she was even prettier when she smiled.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t move but didn’t let go of her hand either.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, getting closer to her.
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
After that, they’d talked almost every day. The only time they didn’t was when he was on a mission, and even then, he tried to schedule video calls with her as often as he could.
Aine was funny and smart, and she took his breath away when she smiled and when she lay naked in his bed.
There were days when they spent the entire day there, pleasuring one another’s bodies. She’d asked once if her lack of sexual experience disappointed him, and he’d assured her it didn’t—he loved that he was the one to take her from tentative to aggressive. He taught her the way to bring him pleasure, and brought her to heights she said she’d nev
er known possible.
He loved sinking into her curvy softness. When she felt self-conscience, he convinced her that there wasn’t a woman on earth he found as sexy and sensual as she was.
