When Alejandro parked the bike, Ali shook her hair out of its wet braid, fluffing it in the hot air. Dios mio, she’s gorgeous. He ached to run his fingers through those golden strands like he’d done so many times during their summer together. He longed to bury his face in those tousled curls and lose himself in the scent of her.

 

“Beautiful, right?” she asked, her eyes shining, spreading her hands wide at the view.

 

“Beautiful,” he agreed, not trusting himself to walk any closer to her. Watching her revel in something as simple as a pretty view he realized why he’d never stopped loving her. Ali enjoyed life so much it was impossible not to be caught up in the easygoing happiness she exuded.

 

They sat on the rocks and chatted for a good hour, talking easily about their respective lives in the past ten years. This time, instead of sticking to safe subjects, Ali told Alejandro about the program, her students, the fling with the musician, and the plans she’d made with Bobby before Kip died. Alejandro spoke to her at length about club life, the dangerous work his brotherhood did, and their latest assignment in Arroyo Flats. He was pleasantly surprised at how accepting she was of his lifestyle, and he found himself telling her far more than he had planned.

 

“And what about a family?” she ventured. “How do you see that fitting in?”

 

His chest tightened, but he didn’t dare be honest with her. Instead he shrugged. “I don’t, at least not yet. I’ve been thinking about that a lot in the past year or so, but—” Another shrug. “It hasn’t been an issue just yet.”

 

“But some of the guys do have families?”

 

“Most of them have families.”

 

“And you’re usually in San Antonio?”

 

Alejandro nodded. “Just out past Northwest Loop 1604. The clubhouse is there, and my shop.”

 

“You run your own shop?”

 

“I own it. I don’t fix much these days. We do a lot of custom body work, mostly. I’ve got good managers, good guys who work for me, too.”

 

She stared thoughtfully out over the view, silent for a bit. He sat just as silently on his own rock and watched her. He could see the wheels turning behind those expressive gray eyes, but he was completely unprepared for what came out next.

 

“Remember the last time we were here together?” she asked shyly. “Do you remember what it was like then, to want someone so much you thought you’d burst?”

 

He nodded slowly, his mouth instantly dry as he recalled that night. He’d borrowed his dad’s car and driven her up here instead of to the movies and they’d steamed up the windows for hours. Ali had apologized for her inexperience as she took him in her mouth that first time, but he’d enjoyed it more than he ever had because he loved her so much. Afterward he made her climax with his fingers, the first time she had ever come with any guy, and he did it twice more before driving her home. He kissed her goodnight puffed up with pride at the satisfied look in her eyes. Looking at her now he had the urge to see that look again.

 

Ali blushed a bit darker, clearly remembering the details of that night as vividly as he did. “Why didn’t you ever ask me sooner?” she ventured, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

 

“For a blow job?” he asked, incredulous.

 

She laughed, a great loud easy laugh, and shook her head. “No, not for a blow job. Asked me to be your girlfriend, I meant.”

 

He shuffled a bit before answering. “You had a lot of guys around. I was doing my own thing.”

 

“But at that graduation party…”

 

“Yeah, I know what I said. And I meant it, Ali. I always worshiped you from afar. You were my dream girl.”

 

“Alejandro, you could’ve had any girl you wanted. And did, if I remember correctly.” She poked him playfully in the ribs and he caught her by the wrist.

 

“Ali.” He had to tell her now. He might not get another chance. “Ali,” he murmured, his voice husky as he tugged her closer, “there was only ever you.”

 

“But you were with—” Her eyes widened as he pulled her closer still.

 

“Shh.” He silenced her with two fingers on her lips. “I know what I’ve done. But there was only ever you. I loved you so fucking much, Ali, it almost ruined me. You were everything to me, and losing you was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. You need to know that. I’m sorry I never told you.”

 

“You never called.” His heart ached at the pain in her eyes. He hadn’t expected that, either. “You promised, Alejandro.”

 

“Ali…” he groaned. It was impossible to apologize honestly when she looked so sad. Fuck. He tried again. “We said a month but we both knew we were never going to stay together, no matter how much we loved each other. We were too young. You were in college, I was on the road… It wouldn’t have worked. It was too hard for me to break up, so I just…”

 

“I never gave up on us,” she flared. “You fucking left me hanging, Alejandro. It was a pussy thing to do.”

 

He was startled by her honest anger. “You’re right, I was a total pussy,” he agreed.

 

“You broke my heart.” He winced as if she’d slapped him. “It took me years to get over you.”

 

His fingers circled her other wrist, too, and he pulled her close. “Ali, I’m sorry,” he murmured, his face mere inches from hers, close enough to lean in and kiss her if he dared.

 

“Are you?” She was so beautiful in her fierce anger that he loved her even more and hated himself all over again for breaking his promise.

 

“I am.” All he could see was that tempting pout. "I'm so sorry, Ali,” he whispered against her strawberry mouth, and then he was kissing her.

 

***

 

Ali tried for about three seconds to resist. When she relaxed into his arms Alejandro felt her reach around to rake her fingers down his back and her urgency spurred his own desire. He cupped her ass in his hands, cradling her against him, and they kissed like two people who’d just invented it, long and deep and breathless. He was painfully hard.

 

She knew it, too, rubbing against him like a cat in heat, responding breathlessly to his kisses, pulling him in like she was starving for his touch. She was so much more responsive than he had even dreamed, lush and needy and wild. He’d been with women who through they knew what a man wanted, and maybe lots of men did like over-exaggerated passion, but he wanted the real thing. He wanted a woman who was as heated as he was, A woman who desired him on multiple levels. Not just because of the VP patch on his jacket or the gleam of his custom bike. Not just the bulges of his arms or the bulge in his pants, either, though it was always hot to see a woman beg. He wanted to wallow in a willing woman’s bed, have her completely surrender and see her sated gaze at the end that told him she was ready to do it all again with no ulterior motives. And always when he had that fantasy it was Ali’s gray eyes he saw looking back at him, her swollen mouth uttering the words he’d always wanted to hear from her.

 

She groaned his name as he rained hot kisses down her jaw, across her collarbone, into the tempting, soft haven of her cleavage. He lifted her against him so his erection nudged into the space between her thighs and she writhed against him. She made whimpering noises he’d never heard a woman make, primal and desperate. He fought not to rip the tank top that separated him from her full breasts.

 

But suddenly she pulled out of his grasp, covering her mouth in stunned horror. “Oh my God,” she whispered, stepping back and almost stumbling in her haste. “Oh, Alejandro… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be doing this.”

 

Fuck, Ali, don’t pull away, he silently willed her. He held up his hands to show her he understood and spoke calmly. He knew she’d been there with him in that hurricane of need just then. That wasn’t just horny, wishful thinking. But for whatever reason she’d decided she couldn’t do it. The image of Bobby Dawson’s smiling, all-American face flashed before his eyes and he felt like smashing the world to pieces.

 

“Do you want me to take you home?”

 

She nodded mutely, her gray eyes wide and anxious. “In a minute. I just—” She clutched her chest as if she’d just been struck and took long, deep breaths.

 

“Don’t be sorry, Ali. I don’t expect anything from you.” He managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but it slithered through his veins, burning where it traveled.

 

“I wanted to kiss you.” She spoke slowly. “It wasn’t just you. I just…”

 

“Bobby.”

 

“Yes. No.” She sighed. “This doesn’t make sense. I was over you. I moved on.” She looked stunned. “And then you kiss me and it's like those ten years never happened.”

 

“Those ten years can still never happen.”

 

“What are you doing to me? What the hell are you doing to me, Alejandro?” Her gray eyes shone just a little too brightly, and he realized she was on the verge of tears.

 

“Hey.” He pulled her back against him, enfolding her in his arms. “Please don’t cry, Baby.” The old endearment slipped out before he could stop himself.

 

She tipped her face up to his, gorgeous in her pain. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her home like a tired child. He wanted to strip her down and fuck her on the rock like a wild beast taking its mate. It all swirled around in his head, knocking him off balance. And she thought it was a mistake. Fuck.

 

“It’s complicated,” she whispered.

 

He shook his head. “Most things that seem complicated are really pretty straightforward. It comes down to a gut feeling. If your gut is telling you not to do this, then don’t.”

 

Ali stared at him for a long while, her face miserable. Finally she spoke. “That’s the thing. My gut is telling me to get on the back of your bike with you and never look back.”