Page 24 of Small Town Secrets

“You’ve been holding it together all afternoon”—he ran a hand over her hair and held her tighter—“this is just your emotions coming out. You’re another step closer to where you want to be, Laila Egan.”

She nodded in a series of quick and repeated movements, as though her emotions still had a hold on her, but keeping silent helped. So, he rubbed his palm over her back in soothing circles and did the talking instead. “In all honesty, tonight was a treat for me. A change in the usual way of things. And looking after one little girl for a few hours and swapping a key battery was a cakewalk.”

“You also cooked. Twice.” She lifted her focus to him, eyes watery, but her energy less frantic. “This was too much. I asked too much.”

“Cooking is another cakewalk, and for once, I wasn’t doing it just for me.” He took his hand and nudged her chin up to him. “See, one woman’s ‘mess’ was this man’s opportunity, and…”

He leaned in and dropped a brief, light kiss to her lips. “I can handle it.”

A silence drew out where he leaned back to gauge her reaction. Where she said and did nothing but look at him, as though she sought to figure out things that couldn’t be “figured.” Trust wasn’t something one puzzled through. Nor could he ever ask or demand it of her. Trust simply came in time. Even more so with this woman.

Her frazzled energy settled some more, and she sank into his hold, so he lowered his tone and reiterated, “I can handle it.”

The confused strain between her brows slipped away and she lifted both hands to his face. “Thank you.”

Her softer tone enveloped him. Not wanting to damage her trust, he closed his eyes against the uninvited wave of desire already swallowing him. Only, the heat of her breath brushed the side of his neck and his heart near burst at the lightest touch of her lips right there.

He tilted his head back and tried not to groan. Her body was pressed so close to his and her kisses failed to stop along the side of his neck. She tugged him down to her level, where her mouth traveled up to the corner of his jaw and across his cheek toward his lips.

That’s when his hands snapped free of her shoulders and he allowed himself to cup possessively at her face, crushing his lips to hers and lifting her onto the kitchen counter, kissing her with all the fire already consuming him. If not for the chance of her daughter walking out to find them, he’d take Laila right here and now. Instead, he claimed a full and final fill of her lips, then used his last shred of willpower to pull away.

“Tell me you want more, Laila.” His voice dragged out rough, gravelly, and unrecognizable. With all her strength and raw emotion, he’d never wanted a woman so much, and now he couldn’t bear the thought that the next moments might end in any other scenario than having her under him. “Please. Tell me you want more.”

Tension gripped low in Laila’s body and her gaze stilled on Ramos. He wanted an answer. Wanted to hear that she wanted him. More precisely, wanted him now with her body and in her bed. So much time had passed since she’d last been with a man. That last time with Mike, and in a stage in their relationship so doused in negative sentiments. She’d simply gone through the motions of being with him in the naive hope that one day the relationship would recover. Clearly that hadn’t happened.

And now, here stood Ramos, in a moment so not like that last time. Where need pulsated through her, and all she had to do was give a resounding, “yes.”

Her overriding nerves made every muscle weak and shaky, and somehow that weakness felt good enough for her to offer a subdued nod. As always, Ramos read her well and dimmed his intensity by drawing in a softer kiss, his grip on her thighs gentle, as he wrapped her legs around him and lifted her off the counter.

She wanted words to break the tension, but all she produced was a light giggle, where she curled her fingers into his thick hair, while he navigated the corridor and guessed correctly where her bedroom lay.

And even as he found her bedroom, his passionate gaze held hers, and made her heart thunder with anticipation. Especially when he lowered her to the bed and pressed his weight onto her.

His kisses grew hungry again, strong hands brushing down her body with sure strokes that culminated in him tugging her jeans away. The sensation of hot, hard man over her left her senses exploding one-by-one. Even while she pulled her gray t-shirt away, his lips kept on finding hers. All she had on was her simple black, cotton underwear, but the fire in his dark eyes held her with an air of divinity. Like she was special and sacred. When for years, she’d felt anything but.

He melted her sense of self-consciousness. Surely a man as beautiful and alluring as him had his pick of young women with bodies not dented from motherhood. But no, he swept his touch over the curve of her waist, down the wider bulge of her hip, exploring her with delicate finesse. His gaze eventually fused with hers, and his next raspy words stole at her breath. “You’re extraordinary.”

Her heart squeezed and then leapt in her chest—startled in his admiration—that for this one moment she could be more than someone’s mom. She could be a woman in her own right.

His praise had her surging up to meet him, had her hands working instinctively under his black t-shirt to the firm heat of his skin, where she sighed and proceeded to strip his chest bare, garnering his needy groan.

He shucked off his heavy jeans and pulled out his wallet from the back pocket, unfolding the thing to produce a condom, which he placed on the bedside table. Next, he growled and crept closer, only stopping when his lips met her collarbone, and his heavy hand took possession over her left breast.

She arched into him, pleading for more, and he kneaded her there, the weight of him between her thighs sending delectable shivers down her spine.

And still, she wanted more. Oh, yes, she wanted so much more. And his touch delivered. Tugging away her underwear, he caressed her sex, a surge of sensation forcing her to buck against him in an inescapable dance between desire and fear. Fear that being with Ramos may be more than she could handle.

But he’d already shown signs of being patient and accepting, so she focused on surrendering to this moment. With each of her slow and weighty breaths, her body warmed with a fire she hadn’t felt before. She dared to reach for him. To take his thick and heavy length in her hand, seeking to affect him in the same way he did her.

He wrenched his lips from her with a frustrated hiss, catching her hands and pinning them either side of her head. The pace of this moment increased as he collected and rolled on the condom. A man in a hurry to stake his claim.

In all honesty, she didn’t want slow either. Not this time. She wanted the thrill of succumbing to spontaneity, which was exactly what she got as he plunged into her in one firm and decisive stroke.

Years of involuntary celibacy caught up to her in a moan of pleasure and pain, his pupils dilating in a question, though she rose to capture his lips with hers, kissing away the uncertainty and whispering, “More.”

From there, his movements intensified, and she sank into the sheets, relishing each thrust. He seemed to feed off her desire, his breaths ragged as he plunged into her, over and over and over again.

Each stroke built her need and forced her to arch into him, and she teetered on the brink. Teeter as she did, she subdued any cries of pleasure so as not to wake Whitney, her restraint only adding to the sense of this being a deliciously forbidden moment.

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