Page 46 of Hidden By His Side

Summer had picked out everything in the house even before the things from her apartment arrived. Somehow, that wasn’t the same. It had taken her years to gather each item. She remembered picking up the softer couch with Ramiro back when he’d first moved her into the apartment. The blanket over the back of it was a birthday gift he’d given her years before. And the blue bowl still in her hands had been in a shop window when they’d gone to lunch together once, before she was his secretary. She hadn’t said she wanted it, but on the way back to the car, Ramiro had slipped inside the store and purchased it on the spot, just because she’d paused to look at it.

Remembering that day still made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Her parents had taught her from a young age that asking for things was rude and self-serving. She’d been around five, and she’d only asked for a piece of candy she’d seen the child in line in front of them ask for, but she could still remember the way they’d scolded her. She felt shame at the memory, just as she had that day. Trying to avoid that feeling, and failing, had colored so much of her life.

For the past ten years, Ramiro had tried to show her there was no need to feel that way, but she didn’t want him to look at her the way her parents had, even for a moment. She never wanted to disappoint him.

Which was why his words still smoldered in her stomach, eating away everything else. She knew she was toxic when it came to him. It shouldn’t have hit so hard to hear him say it out loud.

It did, though. She heard his voice in her head, saying that she was toxic, whenever she became too still.

The blue bowl didn’t capture the right light when set on the coffee table, either. She lifted it again, continuing to wander in her pajamas. Maybe the lighting wasn’t right because the sun had already set for the day. She wandered to the sliding glass door past the sunken living room. The moon looked larger than it should on the horizon. The way the light of it splashed in the bowl was just right, but she couldn’t stand there with it forever.

Arms wrapped around her from behind, nearly making her drop the bowl. Ramiro’s scent surrounded her, vanilla mixed with spice and a hint of citrus. He’d worn the same cologne for years, and she would recognize it anywhere. A shiver ran through her as he kissed her hair.

“You don’t have to find the perfect place for everything today.” His words soothed her.

Summer leaned back against his chest. He’d said she was his today, but did that mean he was hers as well? It didn’t feel that way. If she turned around in his arms, lifted up on tiptoe, and kissed him, what would he do?

She was too afraid to find out.

The glow on the bowl really did look just right in that spot.

“We could buy a stand for it,” Ramiro murmured.

Her eyes grew warm. He needed to stop doing that: reading her mind and offering exactly what she wanted.

“Are you done working?” she asked, then cringed. Asking made it seem like she was begging for his attention. “I mean, I could make a late snack if you have more to do.”

He nuzzled against her, and she turned her head to give him more room, a whimper escaping her when his lips and the light scratch of his beard brushed over her neck.

Her hands went numb. Ramiro caught the bowl even as he brushed his lips over the same spot again.

“So sensitive,” he murmured, his breath brushing over the dampness he’d left on her skin.

She let out an embarrassingly needy sound. “Ram…” Another kiss had her tilting her head even farther, offering him more room.

“Maybe I do need a snack, if you’re on the menu. Is that what you want, baby girl?”

She did want it. So badly. If her mind was still working, she might have been able to come up with something flirty or daring to say. All that slipped out was the truth. “Yes.”

His lips latched on to her neck, sucking lightly and making the shivering spread. Her awareness of the room faded as her focus narrowed to what his mouth was doing. He lifted her off her feet, making her unsteadiness not an issue at all. His tongue licked over her skin, and she moaned.

Ramiro’s head lifted, his breath hot and heavy in her ear. “We’re going to bed.”

Summer watched in a daze as he placed the bowl back on the kitchen counter when they passed, but then his lips were sucking at her neck again, and she couldn’t do anything but cry out and cling to him.

Sliding between his cool sheets made her more aware of how hot her body felt. He didn’t give her a chance to turn toward him, curling up behind her. He was the big spoon to her little one, and she loved how delicate that made her feel. Her ass pushed back against him, but she was too high to feel whether he was hard or not. Not knowing pierced through her daze. Was he just doing what he thought she wanted? Or did he want her in return—really want her?

He hadn’t orgasmed back when they’d had sex the first time. She hated remembering that. She should have let him keep going instead of asking him to stop.

He buried his mouth in her neck, kissing there again, doing more than kissing, and every thought drained away. Ramiro was touching her, and that was all that mattered.

“Fuck, baby girl.” His hand pressed on her stomach, trapping her against him. He breathed over her neck, which was too sensitive, just as he’d said, and she writhed.

He growled, and then his teeth and beard scraped over her pulse and it felt so good that she couldn’t think at all.

“Suck again,” she begged. Her voice had that embarrassing whine, and she tried to swallow it. “Suck, please.”

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