Alejandro: Padre Knights MC (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It had taken forever, but the hospital finally released Alejandro, and Ali had driven him home with her. Their moment of intimacy at the hospital had passed without either of them pursuing it. Ali didn’t know how to initiate that conversation again and wasn’t sure she wanted to when it was late and they were both exhausted. She didn’t know what she might say to make him see that she just wanted to be with him, in whatever way and for however long she could have him, the rest be damned.

In her dimly lit living room she handed him a glass of tea and went to prep the downstairs guest room. Her heart pounded as she made up the bed. She imagined sliding between the cool sheets, pressing herself against Alejandro’s naked flesh, begging him to take her.
The man’s a battered mess and all you can think about is sex
, she chastised herself.
Get a grip, Ali
. She viciously fluffed the pillows and smoothed the duvet back.

He balked when she offered to help him undress, but she’d been there when the nurse had dressed him and she knew he couldn’t do it on his own, at least not quickly. “Just let me,” she urged. “It’ll go quicker.”

Finally he agreed, closing his eyes and sitting on the bed as she pulled off his boots, one by one, and then removed his socks. He stood and she unbuttoned his jeans, tugging them down over his hips and then down to his ankles, offering him her shoulder to lean on so he could step out of them. In just his boxer briefs and tee shirt, Alejandro smiled stiffly and said, “I’ll just sleep in this. It’s okay.”

“You should take off your shirt. It’s filthy. I was going to wash your clothes for you. I know you like to sleep… um…” She blushed and bit her lip. “I figured I could wash everything since you usually sleep without any clothes on.”
Buck naked
, her brain taunted her.
That’s what you meant.
“I’ll get you a towel so you can…” She gestured and backed out of the room, leaving him standing in the moonlight with a bewildered look on his face.

Minutes later she helped him struggle out of his tee shirt, a towel wrapped around his waist for modesty. He had his back to her—so he could grip the nightstand for balance, he said—and she gasped as she saw the dragon. The vibrant colors started at his neck, blazed across his entire back, and disappeared just beneath the towel he clutched around himself.

Alejandro stood perfectly still and silent while she studied the tattoo. Her fingers skimmed across his shoulder blades and traced the line of the dragon breathing flames across his lower back. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, examining the artistry of the scales, painfully aware of his heat under her fingertips.
Like that fire’s burning right out of his skin
. She had blocked that little detail out of her memory, how hot he always was, as if constantly consumed by fever. His breath hitched and she realized her entire hand was flat on his back, palm kissing his skin and fingers fanned out across the dragon’s twisted tail.

Her body remembered his. Whether it was from the dream or from ten years ago she couldn’t have said. Every touch she gave him echoed inside of herself. She stroked down his back, gentling him like she’d done to Tip a million times. “Your whole back is tight,” she murmured, knowing she should stop touching him but unable to pull her hands away. “Maybe tomorrow I can give you a massage.”

“That'd be good.” His voice was strangled. “Hey, uh, would you mind getting me another glass of tea? I need to take these pain pills.”

“Sure.” Pulling away from him, she instantly missed his warmth. “I’ll go get it right now.”

Her legs threatened to give out on her, and when she got in the kitchen she leaned against the refrigerator and took a deep breath. She pressed her cheek against the cool stainless steel surface and tried to steady her nerves. Between her legs her sopping panties bunched and rubbed, causing maddening friction. She wanted Alejandro, needed him to ease the ache she hadn’t lost all week.

She had felt him up at the Ridge. She’d writhed against his hardness until she thought she would come just from the delicious friction of their bodies rubbing, but she’d blown that chance. She was lucky to get a second opportunity in the garage. That time she’d almost gotten him out of his jeans, but they’d been interrupted by one of the guys. Now he was naked in her guest room, but from the way he’d just reacted to her offer of a massage, she didn’t know if she was getting a third chance. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was in too much pain. Or maybe he was tired of endless foreplay that never culminated in sex.

Whatever it was, she didn’t know if she could stand another minute of torture. His skin had felt amazing under her touch. She imagined raking her nails down his colorful skin as he pumped into her. She imagined his deep voice urging her to come and it was all she could do not to rub herself off right there in the kitchen while she was supposed to be getting his tea.

Instead she took the tea and the bottle of pills into the guest room. Alejandro was already on his back under the covers, his good arm thrown over his eyes. He looked up and thanked her in a hoarse voice and then took the pills, his eyes drooping closed almost immediately.

“Get a good night’s sleep,” she said softly, fighting the urge to kiss his forehead where the dark hair met brown skin. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She scooped up his dirty clothes and escaped the room before she did or said anything foolish.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ali woke from a terrible dream in which Bobby showed up at the ranch and found Alejandro in her bed. For a moment she lay in a half-dream state, slowly coming back to reality. The buzz of the dryer reminded her that Alejandro wasn’t in her bed, he was in the guest bedroom and as naked as the day he was born because she hadn’t yet brought him his clean clothes.

She brushed her teeth and threw on her robe so she could go let Tip out of his stall. Coffee was her first stop. She nursed her steaming mug while she pulled the warm laundry out of the dryer and folded it neatly. A quick peek into the guest room confirmed that Alejandro was still sleeping, so she put the clothes on the chair and headed out to the barn.

“Good morning, you silly beast,” she crooned as Tip nuzzled under her hair. She was glad no one was around to see her in her night clothes and Wellies, but the perks of having her own place was that she could do as she damn well pleased. The morning sun filtered softly into the barn and she opened his stall and led him by the bridle into his pasture. She filled his water bucket and patted his rump as he headed into the field for a morning graze.

When she arrived back in the house she checked on Alejandro again. He was propped up in bed, eyes bleary and the covers pulled up to his chest. He looked wretched but smiled as she came in. 

“How’d you sleep?” she asked softly.

“Good. The drugs helped. I won’t take any more, but it was good to have them last night.”

“I’m glad.” She pointed toward the chair. “Your clothes are clean.”

“Thanks. I was wondering if… uh… I could get a shower.”

“Sure.” She realized the downstairs bathroom only had a tub and he was going to have to bring him up to her master bath, which meant walking him through her bedroom. “You have to go upstairs. Is that okay?”

“I’ll go anywhere right about now to get clean.” He grinned and she felt it in every cell of her body.

***

She was halfway out of the room, having shown him to her shower, when he called after her, “Come in with me, Ali.”

Her heart caught in her throat and she stopped dead in her tracks.  Alejandro leaned in the doorway of her bathroom, the towel slung dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes followed the trail of dark hair from his stomach to where it joined a larger patch barely visible above the towel. His intent was clear, and the realization made her mouth dry.

“You should—” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “You’re hurt. I shouldn’t.”

“I’m fine. But since you’re so concerned, what if I’m overcome by the steam and I faint?” he teased. “You better be there to catch me.”

She must’ve looked worried, because he chuckled and shook his head. “I’m kidding. But not about getting in this shower with me. Come on, you need one too. And after the past twenty-four hours I’ve had you’d be doing me a favor.”

He straightened and she saw it then. An open ribcage, tattooed on his golden skin with gruesome reality, thorny vines twining and escaping through the bars of bone. The artistry was so precise it made her woozy to stare at what looked to be a giant hole in Alejandro’s chest, crowded with dying roses, the vines growing aggressively, as if they wanted nothing more than to choke his heart. A few wilted petals drifted gracefully down his side, and a few more fluttered into the hollow of his lean hips. She stared at it, unable to process exactly what she was seeing. It was both grotesque and beautiful, stunningly realistic.

“What is that?” she asked quietly.

“Come here and I’ll tell you.”

She crossed the room in seconds and he captured her face in his hands, holding her just inches away, his hands gentle on her. He brushed his lips across mouth and she sighed softly.

“It’s a reminder, Ali,” he breathed against her, untying the sash of her robe and slipping it off her shoulders. His lips burned a trail down her jaw to the little space below her ear, and his tongue flicked against the pulse point. At the junction of her thighs she was molten, a keening urge tightening around itself deep within her.   

“What does it mean?” she whispered.

He took her fingers in his calloused grasp and pressed her hand flat over his heart. “I tried to forget… but you grew roots around my ribcage… and sprouted flowers just below my collarbones…”

She tried to remember where she knew those words from. Finally she figured it out.
Oh, God, the poem
. It all came back to her: senior English class, the term spent studying and memorizing poetry. Pablo Neruda. Alejandro’s heart galloped under her palm, and when she looked at his face his dark eyes blazed with need.

Alejandro’s mouth hovered mere inches from hers. Fighting back the groan that built in her, Ali closed her eyes and waited for his inevitable kiss.

“All day I pluck their petals…” he breathed against her lips, and her veins sizzled with the need to devour his mouth. He was playing her like an instrument only he knew how to use, and all she wanted to do was let him.

“…but I have not yet ascertained…” Now he held her arms so that she could only wriggle against him, a whimper escaping her as his lips brushed back and forth across her mouth.

“…whether you love me…” He sucked at her lower lip and she choked back a sob of frustration. “…or not.” Finally he held her at arms’ length, studying her face. His eyes gleamed triumphantly but his mouth remained serious.

“So tell me, Ali,” he growled. “Tell me if you ever loved me or if it was just a summer fling.”

“The tattoo… It’s the poem…” she gasped. Her body betrayed her with its combustion, and she shuddered as the shock of it ripped through her.

“Yes, it’s the poem.” He tipped her chin and met the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She groaned as he slipped inside so easily, loosening his grip on her arms so he could wrap his hands around her waist.

“Tell me, Baby…” He kissed a trail to her throat, breathing her in as he nuzzled and nipped his way down the pulsing artery. He traced her collarbone with his tongue and she whimpered and stopped thinking altogether. She was electrified, the sensations he was building in her almost too strong to take.
Alejandro, I loved you, I love you still
, she heard herself whispering wildly, but the words never slipped from her tongue.

Instead she sighed in ecstasy as Alejandro traced inside the neckline of her tank top, over the swell of her unfettered breast. He scraped his finger over the cotton-covered nipple so that it stiffened below the surface, and she moaned softly.

With a strangled cry she pulled his face to hers and devoured his mouth, thrusting her tongue against his until she felt him shudder. She seized his bottom lip with her teeth and he moaned, “Fuck, Ali…” Through the towel she could feel his erection twitching, straining wildly toward the heat between her thighs. And then Alejandro loosened the towel and let it drop.

***

“Oh, God,” she breathed. “Touch me, Alejandro, please.”

“You haven’t said yet.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Won’t,” he corrected her, and released his grip on her. He stepped into the shower and turned on the spray, adjusting it until it was perfect and then letting the water run over him.

Ali stood reeling and breathless. It would be so easy to just tell him. She’d almost told him on the Ridge. She’d wanted to tell him in the garage. And the night before, when he lay in her guest bed, she’d fought the urge to crawl into the bed beside him and whisper everything she’d ever felt into his ear.

She stepped in with him and he turned to face her.

“It wasn’t a fling,” she sobbed against his mouth. “I loved you before you kissed me at graduation. I loved you all that summer. I loved you after you left, for years and years. I don’t think I ever stopped. Maybe I love you now. I don’t know anymore.” The spray blinded her and he pulled her into his embrace, skin to skin.

“We have this. Right now. That’s all that matters,” he murmured, stroking the slick skin of her back. She felt his erection twitch against her stomach and reached between them to grasp it.

He gritted his teeth as her fingers wrapped around him. She slicked her hands with soap and bathed him—all of him—lovingly, lathering every inch of him, thorough in her ministrations. Alejandro leaned his head back against the tiles and groaned in pleasure as she tugged him slow and steady, her soapy fist wrapped tightly around his pulsing flesh.  

Then he unwrapped her fingers from him. He took the soap and washed her, starting with her breasts and arms. Soon his soapy fingers were between her thighs, slipping back and forth until her clit plumped beneath his touch. Her hips bucked at him of their own accord and he seized her mouth with his, plundering her mouth in rhythm with his strokes. “I love you, Ali. I love you, I love you, I love you.” he murmured between her sighs of pleasure.