“I’ll say it first, then. I love you, Ali. I’ve always loved you.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust and the heat in them was unmistakable. “Tell me,” he commanded.
Her breath caught from the dominance in his voice and the sensation it caused inside her, a swift tightening of her core and flooding between her thighs. He nipped at her throat and she cried out his name, eliciting a stifled groan. His fingers found the front of her shorts and deftly unfastened them, sliding down the front of her panties until they nestled between her hot, slick folds. She was close—so close that every movement of his fingertips against her was exquisite torture.
He rubbed her steadily, whispering against her lips that he would love her forever. When she finally broke beneath his skillful fingers she cried, “I love you, Alejandro!” She sobbed his name over and over again, shuddering in his arms, her cheeks wet with their combined tears.
***
The climax woke her up. It had happened to her before, but not in a very long time, and it surprised her. She squeezed her thighs together, savoring the last of the aftershocks and lay in a half-dream state, aching for his familiar touch, his lips against hers. Her entire body throbbed and she couldn’t stop hearing his voice saying her name.
It’s just your stupid brain and your neglected cunt playing tricks on you, she scolded herself. You need to just go see him, make your peace, and put this behind you. You owe that to yourself.
But as she lay spent in her bed, she couldn’t help the feeling that it was more than peace she wanted. It was more than his explanation, more than his apology, more than closure.
It was Alejandro himself.
They’d shared only one summer, but after he’d broken her heart Ali told herself that she would never love anyone again. For six whole years she did a good job of keeping her affairs brief and strictly physical. The thought of the pain she’d suffered when he abandoned her was more than enough to keep every man she met out of her heart, even if she didn’t keep them all out of her bed. When she met Bobby it was a relief to just stop running. She started their relationship with nothing to lose and gradually felt solid enough to put her faith in a man’s love once again.
Though now she questioned, for the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours, whether she’d done the right thing by breaking it off with Bobby. Her mother’s unsympathetic words echoed in her head. You stupid girl. What were you thinking? He’s the best thing to ever happen to you, and you’re breaking it off because of his political career? Did you expect him to sit home and romance you all day? Grow up, Alaine! Men have careers, and women support them. That’s what we do. You had some time on your own. You spent your entire twenties being selfish. It’s time to start thinking of someone other than yourself. Poor Bobby must be heartbroken.
The look in his eyes when she’d taken off her ring kept coming back to her. It was that look that told her she’d done the right thing. A heartbroken man would have looked desperate, bitter, even angry. Bobby just looked a little sad and completely clueless.
She tried to remember the last time Bobby had made passionate love to her and was at a loss to recall a single incident of lovemaking in the past eight months. She realized that other than a few kisses, she couldn’t even remember any displays of affection. And though Bobby had always been a skillful and attentive lover, his touch lacked that elemental fire she craved. She’d only experienced that once. Twice, if you counted the dream.
That’s all it was, though. Just a dream, she chastised herself.
Except…
Except that she had seen, felt, heard, smelled, and tasted Alejandro in her dream. Her response to him was real. Her sensitive nether regions told her that she had definitely experienced a powerful orgasm, even if she had been asleep when it happened. And it was the only orgasm she’d had in God knew how long.
That’s not the only orgasm you’ll ever have, she told herself. Don’t be such a slut. You can give yourself a good orgasm, but you can’t base a life around sex. But you couldn’t base a life around empty social engagements, either, and somehow she’d managed to fall into a life of just that.
She had to see Alejandro, just to get this craving out of her system. He was still good-looking (okay, fucking hot) but she convinced herself that’s all it was. Besides, she didn’t even know where to find him. She knew his father still owned the garage, and if Alejandro wasn’t there maybe someone would remember her and tell her where he might be. He wouldn’t possibly have the same number, not after ten years. Where did he even call home these days? She had no idea.
She reached for her phone and texted Cristina. I saw him.
Oh, Ali, came the immediate reply.
I was a total B. Have to apologize. Where can I find him?
Mami, don’t do it.
I’ll go to the garage if I have to.
There was a pregnant pause and she paced as she waited for the telltale chirp. Finally, it came. Just an address, but that was good enough for her. 787 Triola Drive. She knew exactly where that was.
You can do this, she convinced herself. It’s ten years later, you’ve got nothing to lose, and men that good-looking don’t grow on trees. He’s an old friend who will boost your ego and get you out of this breakup funk. What do you have to lose?
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Devil's Angels Boxed Set: Bikers and Alpha Bad Boy Erotic Romance Page 65
