I kill the Porsche’s engine as the garage door slides closed behind us, and glance at my passenger. She looks so good, so natural sitting there. We didn’t exchange a single word on the drive from the ugly office building to my house.

Until she kissed me in the elevator, nothing about this reunion has gone the way I imagined it would. Up until that point, Ella acted like she barely knows me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that her attitude shook my confidence, made me doubt what had I thought we’d both experienced in that lifeguard station seven years ago. For the first time, I thought maybe my world had been the only one to shift on its axis.

Talk about karma kicking me in the teeth. I work my ass off, make sure I have everything a modern woman could possibly want and keep myself emotionally available. Then, when I finally find the girl I want more than anything in the whole world, she barely remembers me.

Then she kissed me in the elevator. I still can’t believe I didn’t self-combust from the heat in that single kiss.

Since then, Ella hasn’t said a single word. I’m afraid she changed her mind. I can’t bear the thought. I don’t want to know, but I must find out.

“Ella?”

She turns away from the window, her eyes meeting mine. Fire and desire burn in their depths.

Relief zings through me. Nothing has changed. She still wants me.

Unable to resist temptation, I lean over the gear shift and kiss her, pouring seven years’ worth of emotion into the kiss, silently praying she understands.

We’re both breathing heavily when I pull back. I lean against the car door and give my heart a moment to drop back down to a regular rate.

She stares at me, eyes wide. “Wow,” she murmurs and lifts her hand, pressing her fingers against her trembling lips.

I smile wickedly at her and steal another kiss. “Just a preview.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re a tease.”

“And this surprises you?” I push open my door and practically hurl myself from the car, barely taking the time to close it before I jog around the front and open Ella’s door.

She looks around the garage. There’s not much to see. It’s designed to hold four cars, but so far my Porsche and a year-old Land Rover are the only vehicles. I plan on adding a classic ‘Vette, but haven’t gotten around to shopping for one. It irritates me that now that I finally have the money to spend on whatever I want, I don’t seem to have any time.

“Big,” Ella murmurs.

I pull her close. “Good,” I say against her lips. “You remember.” I take her hand and guide it to the front of my pants, letting her feel how hard I am.

She throws her head back and shrieks with laughter. It’s not a low, sexy laugh that most women would consider appropriate for the situation, but rather a shrieking laugh that echoes throughout the garage and makes me feel good. She’s been so solemn this entire time that I was beginning to think the girl who had walked hand in hand with me on the beach and laughed at all my bad jokes was gone forever.

I love knowing that she still exists, and that I have the power to unearth her from the layers of quiet dignity Ella seems to have buried her under. But I’m burning up trying to figure out what – who – happened to her. What made her like this.

Ella caresses me and I nearly hit my knees. I catch hold of her wrist and lift it away from my cock before I embarrass myself.

Coming inside my shorts isn’t part of the reunion fantasy I’ve spent the past few years building, and now that it’s back on track, I don’t want to do anything to spoil it.

Ella snorts. “Looks like maybe we should skip the grand tour for now and go straight to the main feature.”

“Best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Riding instinct, I bend down and sweep one arm around her knees, lifting her so she’s cradled against my chest. Her new position not only brings us eye to eye, but also mouth to mouth. I take advantage of its proximity and move in for a kiss.

It’s different from our other kisses, deeper, hotter, wetter. By the time we finally break apart we’re both panting. Blood roars in my ears as I wonder if I should attempt to follow through with my original plan of carrying her into my house and up to my bedroom, or if I should give in to my body’s demand, set her on the hood of my car and take her right here, right now.

Ella blows out an unsteady breath and rests her cheek on my shoulder. “Oh, man,” she gasps. She’s trembling in my arms, her body already warm and pliant.

There’s no doubt in my mind that if I do set her on the car and slide her pants down her thighs and move between her legs, she’ll welcome me. She’s as turned on and desperate as I am.

I can’t.

My cock all but howls a protest as I tighten my arms around her and move away from the Porsche and toward the door that leads from the garage to the house.

Ella is precious. She deserves better than a quick tumble in a garage. And if I’m going to prove that I’m worthy of her, that I deserve all of her love, then I need to start making my case right now, starting with showing her that I do have some self-control.