12. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
S ummer expected to wake up in Ramiro’s arms happier than she’d been in a while. He’d stayed the night. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, easily broken.
Which made it easier to slip away and fumble toward the bathroom. Her stomach swirled, along with the room around her. Dizziness mixed with the heated warmth of her spit and the swirling became worse as she reached the toilet.
She hadn’t eaten much the night before, so the nausea she couldn’t fight back mostly brought up spit. She really hated throwing up. The dizziness wasn’t going away; it was only getting worse. She felt hot and cold at the same time.
Gentle hands took over her weak grasp on her hair, pulling it more fully back from her face as her stomach lurched again.
“It’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you. ”
More spit dribbled from her mouth as heated tears slid down her cheeks. She didn’t feel good. She didn’t feel good at all.
Ramiro reached over, flushing the toilet to get rid of the spit and small bit of vomit. Summer watched it swirl, her mind spinning with it.
“Hold on,” he murmured, releasing her. Whatever he had done to her hair kept it mostly behind her neck, even though he’d let go.
The faucet turned on, or maybe instead of water that was just a rushing in her ears. Her face felt too hot, but the rest of her was so very cold. She slumped to the side as the sounds around her dimmed, the cool tiles against her too warm cheeks welcome. She closed her eyes, needing to stop the spinning.
Ramiro’s worried voice hummed in her ears. She let out a cry of protest as the coolness of the tiles went away, but a cool cloth replaced it, wiping over her face softly, another wonderful chill resting on her neck. How had he known her neck felt hot?
“I don’t give a shit about that prick Seb dropped off. Get over here instead.” Ramiro’s voice came through a tunnel, his tone angry. He’d been angry the night before, too.
He shouldn’t have been. Derek had only been telling the truth, no matter how hard it was to hear.
Summer opened her eyes, the overhead light making her squint. Everything felt dull and far away.
“I’m not moving her. You said that likely made things worse last time. No, this isn’t a head injury. I thought it was just morning sickness, but she passed out! ”
“… ’m okay,” she tried to say, her lips numb.
“Summer?” He cradled her head in his lap. “Don’t move. Just rest.” A brief touch of lips pressed against her forehead. “No, you come here. Leave him at the clinic. What? Yes, she’s pregnant. That’s why I wasn’t worried about the vomiting, but I don’t like this. She’s still—”
Summer reached up, curling her fingers around his wrist below his phone. “I’m fine,” she tried again. “Happened before.” She’d woken up alone that time, something gross between her face and the tiles, though the coolness had felt good and made all the difference.
“It happened before? Dammit, Summer, you should have—” Ramiro’s words paused as he listened to whoever was on the phone. “Low blood pressure?” he repeated.
“It’ll be okay,” she murmured. The dizziness was passing but left her exhausted like last time. It had taken so much effort to crawl back into her bed on her own that time, but Ramiro was here, his arm secure around her.
She’d take a quick rest in his arms and everything would be back to normal. Ramiro’s voice drifted in, the words no longer registering but calming her even more as she closed her eyes.
T he second time Summer woke up was so much better. She was in her bed cuddled up against Ramiro, his hand moving through her hair .
There was no return of the nausea. They called it morning sickness, but her worst episodes happened while it was still dark. Sleep had always been hard for her, so she should have expected that.
Her hand moved up over Ramiro’s naked chest. His chest hair tickled her cheek and fingers, but also felt so soft against her skin. She petted it a little before settling her hand over his heart, liking the slow thrum beneath her fingers.
Ramiro was here with her. It was exactly what she wanted. Actually, she wanted to be wrapped up in him even tighter.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, a huskiness in his voice, as if he’d gone back to sleep, too. His hand continued to play with her hair.
“Perfect,” she said, her lips brushing over his chest. She wanted to do it again, this time on purpose, but she shouldn’t push herself on him.
The way he pulled her into his body felt so right, though, even if he still wore pants. Their legs wove together, and she wished she could feel his hair there too.
A soft rumble in his chest filled her ear. “Don’t lie to me. There’s no way everything is perfect.”
“You’re here,” she said, her hand slipping around to his side, wanting to touch more of him. She wished she could grab on and never let go.
“I’m here,” he agreed. “I’ll always be here for you when you need me. No matter what happens. ”
She hummed in her throat, knowing he didn’t mean it the way she wanted. Ramiro had taken care of her ever since the first time he’d held her on that bridge, but it wasn’t romantic.
She pressed closer anyway, wishing things could be different. Having sex with her once had been more than enough for him. Or less than enough. He hadn’t even come.
Sex had just been another way for him to take care of her.
Summer wondered what he’d say if she admitted it was the best sex she’d ever had. If she told him she daydreamed about him when she was with other men, what expression would he make?
His hand shifted from her hair, sliding along her back almost to her ass before reversing direction and drifting back up. The motion soothed and stimulated at the same time. Summer wanted to close her eyes and breathe him in, but she also wanted him even closer.
Close enough to be part of each other.
“I want you to move in with me,” Ramiro murmured.
Summer lifted her head to meet his eyes. They were steady and certain.
She tried to push down the thrill rising in her heart. “That’s not fair to you.”
“I decide what’s fair to me.” He brushed her hair back from her face when it swung forward. “I want to take care of you, Summer. Like I’ve always done.”
“It’s not just me you’d be taking care of.” Her gaze lowered, and she stared at her hands pressed to his chest, so small against him. “I should get an abortion.” The words felt wrong, even though they were true. Who did she think she was? She couldn’t become a mom. She couldn’t even take care of herself, much less another human being.
His warm hands cupped her face, forcing her eyes up to his. “If you don’t want his baby, you don’t have to have it. You know that, right?”
A coldness slithered inside her. Ramiro knew her better than anyone, and he didn’t think she should have this baby. He’d been hinting at it all along.
She should just listen to him. She expected relief to flood in, but the twisting in her stomach got worse.
“I remember what the last pregnancy did to you. I don’t ever want to see you at that low point again.”
“It’s different this time,” Summer murmured. “I chose to have sex.” Back then, the poison from her rape had curled up inside her, corroding everything she’d been to dust. There wouldn’t have been anything left of her if she’d kept the baby. She would have become nothing but the writhing hatred coating her within.
She was still less than nothing. The only moments she felt lighter were when she was with Ramiro.
“Abortion isn’t just for rape,” Ramiro said.
He hated kids. He’d leave if she kept the child. She’d lose him.
“You’re right.” Her lips felt numb. “I’d be a terrible mother. I’ll get rid of it. ”
“What are you saying?” Ramiro’s touch left her as he pushed up from the bed, his gaze intent on hers. “Don’t put words in my mouth. This has nothing to do with whether or not you’d be a good mother. You’d be a wonderful mother.”
The ice inside cracked. “No. I’m a mess. You have to take care of me.”
“I get to take care of you, Summer. There’s a difference.”
“I fall apart all the time. I’m always crying on you. I—”
“Don’t you dare take that away from me.” Ramiro’s jaw hardened as his hands clamped down on her shoulders.
Summer blinked at him. “What? No, I—”
“Stop talking. Right now.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“You’re going to listen to me. Summer, you’re the only person I know who feels as deeply as you do. You try to hide it, and each time you do, it just becomes harder. Stop—” He shook her hard, as if he was angry at her. Ramiro was never angry with her. “—trying.”
She could do nothing but stare at him.
“You’re always crying on me because I want you to. I hate your tears, but I hate them more when you have them alone. I’m the one seeking you out. Everything that you are, I want for myself. I crave it.”
Hope fluttered inside, so warm she was scared of it. “Does that mean…?”
His hands gentled on her. Gentleness wasn’t what she was hoping for at all, and the hope fled .
“It means you’re the reason I’m not a cold asshole,” Ramiro said. “Taking care of you saved me. I don’t think you realize how much.”
She shook her head. “You were already wonderful when we met.”
“Only you would think that. I was an asshole. Just ask Diego. He knew me back then.”
Diego had known Ramiro longer than her. She’d always been a little jealous of that.
Ramiro stroked her cheek again, making her want to press into his touch. She could lean forward and kiss him like she’d done so long ago.
“Your emotions aren’t a weakness. They’re what will make you a wonderful mother. When you’re ready.” He pulled away, giving her that look, the one that said he was determined to drag out her every thought. “That’s the point I was making. Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean your own needs no longer matter. Your body is yours. If you don’t want to share it, you don’t have to.”
“That’s what you told me about sex,” she said, confused when he flushed and looked away.
“That prick didn’t deserve the gift you gave him. You should have let me kill him.”
“Derek was just telling the truth. I’m a lousy lay.”
Ramiro turned back to her with a glare. “Don’t say that.”
“I don’t have to. Everyone I’ve been with has said it. ”
His hands curled into fists. “I’m going to kill each and every one of them.”
A part of her thrilled inside at the idea of it. He wasn’t jealous like her hopeful brain whispered, but his protectiveness was close enough. “I panicked the other night when Derek tried to use my mouth. A part of me still panics with any form of sex, and I’m so busy trying to stop the panic that I can barely participate.”
“Oh, baby girl.” Ramiro’s pity drained away the last of her warmth. “I didn’t realize it was still so hard for you.”
She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the truth. Ramiro didn’t love her. He felt sorry for her.
She swallowed the pain of it. “A few called me a ‘pillow princess,’” she confessed. She’d looked up the term, and they hadn’t been lying. Each of her lovers had to do all the work—even Ramiro.
He chuckled, and her eyes flew open. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He leaned closer. The way his lips tilted up was dangerous to her insides. The fluttering was back. “Any man who gets to treat you like a princess should realize how lucky he is. The skilled ones will make you orgasm before even thinking about getting inside of you.”
He’d made her orgasm, more than once. Her body still remembered.
“Sex has only been good with you,” she admitted.
His smile faded. “Fuck, Summer.” His hands hauled her against him, and he took her mouth .
Ramiro was kissing her. It was so unexpected that at first she could only stare into his eyes.
He fell back on the bed, pulling her body over his. His hands slid down her back, this time not stopping above her ass but cupping it in the most delicious way. His touch there rocketed through her and burned away her daze.
She whimpered and parted her lips under his, swallowing the sexy hum he released as she devoured him. The fear that he would stop took hold, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck to keep him right where she wanted him.
Ramiro’s lips tasted as good as she remembered. They slid and feasted, sparking something desperate inside her. She licked along his bottom one, nipping it with her teeth. His groan fed her, making her even bolder. She soothed the bite with her tongue, then pushed inside his mouth, taking the kiss deeper.
One of his hands flew to the back of her head, tilting it just right, making the kiss downright filthy as they tried to consume each other.
His other hand hadn’t left her ass. His fingers curled under, making her pulse thrum as he gripped her there.
A need for air parted their lips. She panted against him, staring into his dark, hot eyes.
He blinked, as if realizing who he’d been kissing. “Wait, Summer. We should—”
She smothered his words with her mouth. Her hands slid into his hair, so thick and sexy, pulling on it a little to tilt his head this time and take what she wanted. She sucked on his tongue, rewarded when he moaned and started to devour her again.
Ramiro was kissing her back. She dragged her nails through his hair, scratching lightly. His broken hum wound her up even more.
His hands wrapped around her and he rolled her to her back, pushing his erection between her legs.
The light in the room dimmed, his body over hers becoming all she saw. Panic rose, wiping all the pleasant heat from before away.
No. She couldn’t let her past ruin this. She told herself everything was fine. The panic stopped building but shimmered under her skin, threatening to take over. It wouldn’t, not if she kept pushing it back. That’s what she’d learned.
She could do this. Sex was something she wanted.
Ramiro’s body tensed against hers, and she realized she’d been so focused on not freaking out that she’d stopped kissing him. She tried to make her lips work, but they’d grown numb and wouldn’t move.
He rolled them to their sides, cupping her head as he caught his breath.
“No,” she whimpered, the numbness sliding away. She tried to capture his lips, but he shifted to press his against her forehead instead.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby girl. You’re safe with me. ”
Tears filled her eyes. She wanted the sexy sounds back, not the soothing strokes of his hands. She no longer felt his erection at all. Either it was gone, or he was keeping it away from her.
He pulled away to search her face. “You okay?”
“Please, Ram. I want to be with you.”
His jaw clenched before he forced it loose again. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me. You don’t need this right now.”
“I do. I do need this.”
He shook his head. “You’re vulnerable. And I told you before, we can’t do this.”
“I love you. I’ll only ever love you.”
Ramiro grew still, his eyes burning into hers. He didn’t return the words like she’d imagined he would. She’d held on to them for so long, daydreaming about this moment, but scared of it as well.
Her hands settled over his heart. “I haven’t liked any of the guys I’ve been with. I couldn’t. They weren’t you. It’s only ever been you for me.”
His hand moved down, resting over her stomach. “You have someone else to think about now.”
“It’s not yours.” She hadn’t let the hurt of that slip inside, but now it did, overwhelming her. “I wish it was yours.”
“Do you want the baby, Summer?”
“If I’ll lose you by having it, then I don’t want it.”
His mouth hardened. He pulled away from her, sitting up and resting his head in his hands. “Don’t say that. This shouldn’t be about me at all. ”
She scrambled to her knees on the bed, her hands clinging to his shoulders. “Everything is about you. All I want is you. You’re all I’ll ever want.”
He whirled, knocking her off-balance. His hand gripped her chin hard, keeping her upright, and she trembled at the darkness in his eyes. “Can’t you see how fucking toxic that is?”
Heat burned her eyes. She was right to fear telling him.
He released her, pushing up from the bed. “I need some air.”
Summer watched him walk away. For the first time, her sobs didn’t draw him back. She tried to rise, to go to him, to convince him to stay somehow.
The sound of her front door closing drained all of her energy away, and she slipped to the floor, curling into herself. Of course he hadn’t been happy that she loved him. Love from someone like her wasn’t worth anything at all.