2
I’ve completely shirked my responsibilities for the day in favor of spending it with Alejandro. Whatever time I can steal with him, I will. I’ve made up my mind, and I plan to see this through to the end.
After dropping the girls off, I did exactly what he told me to and called him. Unable to stay at the house because my oldest is homeschooled, I was in his rental car within the hour. We hold hands the entire drive, and I admire the darkness of his skin against the paleness of mine. He has strong hands, making mine look delicate and petite. The contradiction makes my stomach flip.
The drive isn’t long. We picked up coffee before stopping at a nearby park. It’s early—and cold—so the place is deserted but for a single jogger I spotted as we came in.
There are parking lots dotted around the park, and Alejandro pulls into one that is shrouded with overgrown trees and brush. He parks in a far-off corner blanketed in shadows and turns off the engine.
I haven’t touched my coffee. It just sits, nestled between my legs, radiating warmth. I’m not interested in it at all. I only got one because he did. I’m most concerned with what happens next. I’m no good at small talk, and to be honest, the only thing I want to do right now is climb into his lap and make up for lost time.
I’d once told him he makes me crazy…and I meant it.
We’re in a fairly public place, and I’m thinking things I normally wouldn’t. But he makes me lose my inhibitions, makes me want to drop the filter I run my life through and just live in the moment—damn the consequences.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” Alejandro asks, breaking the silence.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, no.” How could I even think about seeing another man when I haven’t gotten him out of my system yet? But then I wonder… “Are you?”
His head, tilted down, turns, and he looks at me from beneath a fringe of dark lashes. “No. I’m still attached to you.”
My heart thumps loudly. Oh, man, if I wasn’t doomed before, I am now. He knows exactly the right things to say to hook me. Logic and reason try to speak out, to contradict him, but I don’t care to hear what they have to say. Is it wrong to want to just live in the moment for once, to allow myself to just feel and live and experience without worrying what comes tomorrow?
“Good, because I’m attached to you too,” I tell him. His thumb caresses the back of my hand. I luxuriate in the moment before asking him something in return. “What happened, Alejandro? Why did you just stop talking?”
His face is a mask of contrition. I can see he’s struggling, whether he’s avoiding saying anything or he’s trying to find the words, I don’t know, so I offer an explanation of my own.
“Is it because I’m still married?”
“Is he trying to come back at all?” he asks instead.
“No. I told you, we’re going for divorce.” My husband has made it clear that he doesn’t want me anymore, and I don’t want him. What I want is sitting right in front of me.
“Okay, good,” he says, those luscious lips turning up at the corners.
“So…” I say expectantly.
“So…” He sucks in a breath, and I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say next. “I was engaged before. She was getting divorced and when her husband found out about us, he made it hard on her. Threatened to keep their kid away from her.”
I make a face, because the very idea of that happening is appalling. What kind of person puts an innocent child in the middle like that? If my husband ever tried to pull something like that on me, I’d cut him off at the knees.
“It drove me crazy, and eventually, I walked away.”
There are a few things running through my mind. One is this is coming from the man who told me on our first date that he would rather be deported than get married, despite not actually being against marriage. Maybe he was thinking of this situation in particular? Could he be as scarred as I am? Another thought is that he must seek out married women or something. What are the odds he’d end up with one twice in a row? And another is…
“Is that why you disappeared? Did you think it would turn out the same with us?”
He shrugs. “Do you still love him?”
“Of course I do. He’s the father of my kids. I’ll always love him. But I’m not in love with him.” The truth is, I can barely bring myself to like my ex most days. I’ve all but lost total respect for him, and like trust, that’s not an easy thing to get back.
He nods, soaking my words in. “I like how you answer.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“I believe you.”
I hope so, because sitting beside him, staring into his beautiful eyes, I am ready to call the divorce lawyer and get the process rolling once and for all. Maybe even put a rush on it if possible in order to be free with this man who makes my insides quake without feeling like I’m giving him a raw deal.
“Mami…” He sighs deeply. “You didn’t get pregnant, right?”
I hesitate. This is something I’ve questioned more than a dozen times. I haven’t had a baby in over a decade, but I know when something isn’t right with my body, and the signs are all there—sore breasts, queasiness, spotting, and of course, the faint positive test. Still, I don’t want to believe it. I need hard evidence before I can say for certain.
“I don’t know,” I admit, even though I want to say absolutely not. Staring into his eyes, I just can’t lie—not even a little bit.
Alejandro’s gaze is intense. “You can’t lie to me, Julie.”
I hear the plea in his voice. It echoes throughout my thoughts all day every day. “I’m not. I’d never lie to you,” I swear. He has to know that. I give him the abbreviated version of what’s been going on with me since he’s been gone.
“It’s just hard to believe. I did what you said.”
Yes, he did. During that heated moment in his hotel room, we’d both lost our minds to passion. It wasn’t until the last moment that I had the presence of mind to remember that I wasn’t on birth control and we were completely unprotected. He’d pulled out…but we both know there are no guarantees when it comes to that.
“I know,” I agree. “But nothing is definite. And I never would have said anything unless I knew there was something to say…but you asked.” And, again, I just can’t lie to this man. I don’t have it in me.
Staring down at our joined hands, he nods. Silence persists, and my heart thunders in my ears as I wait to hear what he has to say next. I feel as though we’re standing on a precipice, and the worst thing is, I have no clue what awaits me on either side of it. No matter which way it goes, I’m going to fall—hard.
“I really missed you,” Alejandro says, and suddenly, it’s as if I can finally breathe again.
That’s it. I can’t stand it anymore. Even the console is too much distance. Taking matters into my own hands, I unsnap my seatbelt, Put the coffee cup on the dashboard, and lean over. Cupping his jaw, I kiss him with everything I’ve got. He needs to know how much I missed him, too, and no words would ever do it justice. Instead, I show him.
With him holding the back of my head and me holding his face, we throw ourselves into the kiss. Between us, our fingers twine together on the console…but it just doesn’t feel close enough.
I allow my hand to roam down to his neck, feeling the corded muscles, his rapid pulse beating against my palm, then I move lower to his chest, his waist, around to his back. I grip his shirt tight, fighting the need to pull him closer.
He’s not fairing any better. Transferring his hand to my thigh, Alejandro curls his fingers under my knee and hitches my leg up. I know what he wants. It’s the same thing I want. Maybe more.
Briefly, I consider telling him no, but I can’t bring myself to do that. There’s no denying him. “Ven aca. Come here,” he murmurs against my mouth as he tugs me to him, guiding the way.
In the back of my head a voice screams that we’re going to get caught, but I’m already climbing into his lap, bracketing his legs with my own as he pushes the seat as far back as it will go to make room.
My ass hits the horn, and it blares into the tranquil morning. We both glance up and around, as if two teenagers about to get caught. But it’s just us. I grin then pull him back to me for another kiss. I can’t get enough of this man.
His hands are under my shirt, cupping my breasts. The heat of his palms is an aphrodisiac in itself, but the taste of him on my tongue and the hard ridge of his cock between my legs is what threatens to send me over the edge.
I should have worn a dress. At least the yoga pants are stretchy. They allow his hand easy access as he delves past the waistband and slips his fingers inside me. Shit, it’s been too long since I felt his touch, since I heard his breath in my ear as he sucks the lobe between his lips.
My fingers grip the headrest, digging in as I struggle to contain myself. We’re going to get caught.
I honestly don’t care.
What is this man turning me into?
Zero self-control. It’s very unlike me. Yet I love how I am with him, how he makes me feel. I imagine I would do just about anything for my papi, and all he’d have to do is ask.
It’s the accent, probably. Or those eyes, so soft and gentle and full of seduction. Or maybe it’s the charm that oozes from his pores or the way he seems to know just the right words and actions to turn me into putty in his hands.
Whatever it is, Alejandro’s got me…and I hope he never lets go.
Pulling the cups of my bra down, Alejandro dips his head beneath my shirt and sucks my nipple into his mouth. The glide of his tongue over the sensitive bud makes me shiver, and when he bites down lightly, it sends a shock straight to my clit. The ache between my legs intensifies, throbbing almost painfully, and the need to feel him inside me becomes almost unbearable.
If I had the guts to do it, I’d strip my clothes off right here, but I just can’t bring myself to make that leap.
Thankfully, in typical Alejandro fashion, he takes the lead. Banding an arm around my waist, Alejandro lifts me and begins manipulating my body to his liking until I’m fully turned around in his lap with my back to his chest. Somehow, he’s already pulled my pants down around my thighs. I lag behind only a moment before I’m gripping the steering wheel and lifting myself up so he has enough room to work his own pants down. Once he’s freed himself, he pulls me back down and guides himself inside me.
There’s nothing better than the feel of a man when he’s buried deep inside you. I sigh and moan at once, feeling that euphoria of ultimate pleasure combined with relief from both the sex and having him back in my life again.
Being connected to Alejandro is nothing short of a homecoming.
Reaching behind me, I grip the back of his neck and bring his mouth to mine as I begin to move my hips. The feel of him sliding in and out of my body, and knowing we could be caught at any moment, is a thrill unlike any other.
Sex in a car isn’t easy. It’s confining and it takes patience, something neither of us has much of, but we try our best to make it work. I rock against him, my feet slipping on the floorboard periodically. Alejandro does his best to help, holding my hips and guiding me, setting the pace he likes. I’m so wet he keeps slipping out, and my thighs are starting to burn from being tense for so long.
“My legs are getting tired,” I half-laugh against his mouth.
“It’s hot as hell in here,” he says with a laugh of his own.
He’s right. It’s stuffy and the windows are completely fogged over. He touches the window, leaving a handprint that reminds me of a scene from Titanic, and I grin, shaking my head. We’re out of control.
Reluctant to stop, we kiss just a little longer, and then, with a sigh, we accept defeat. Always considerate, Alejandro pulls my pants back into place with a comment about how I need to buy some dresses and gets me sorted before he takes care of himself. Then, turning in his lap, he holds me in his arms and we just stare into each other’s eyes, contented—for the moment.