Striker leaned toward her and brushed his hand against her cheek. “I like cooking for you.”
Either she moved closer or he did, because before she responded, he settled his lips on hers. He moved his lips against hers, giving Ella a series of slow, shivery kisses rather than a passionate one.
Some part of her, not ruled by emotion and feelings, shouted that she shouldn’t be letting him kiss her. Slowly the annoying voice got through to the rest of her, and she pulled away. Ella removed his hand from the back of her neck and immediately released it. “I’ve got a lot of things to do. See you tonight?”
The smile he’d given her before no longer existed. “You’re pissed at me.” He sounded more annoyed than angry.
Ella shook her head. “More upset with myself. You didn’t force me. I could’ve stopped you.”
Striker cracked his knuckles. She’d learned months ago he did it whenever he was trying to work something out, or when he got annoyed. “Ella, you agreed to give me a month. Please don’t—”
“I’m not changing my mind. But I’m not rushing anything, either, Striker. Things happened fast last time, and we both know how it turned out. You’ve got your month, but I’m setting the pace.”
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