16. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
W hen Diego showed up with Ash later that afternoon, he did the worst thing that Ramiro could have imagined; he handed Ramiro his daughter. “Here, keep hold of Emma while I help haul all of your secretary’s shit inside.”
Ramiro fumbled not to drop the toddler while taking in the demonic smile she gave him. Her bubbly giggle knew things he hadn’t even considered; he was sure of that.
“Take her back, Diego,” Ramiro said. Even with his hard voice, Emma squirmed closer to him.
“Nah, you’ll be fine.” Diego turned his back on him.
Ramiro hitched the toddler against his hip the way Diego had shown him. He’d held Emma a few times already and had kept her contained during Diego’s wedding not that long ago.
Her grubby little hands grabbed for his beard, and he sighed, resigned to it .
Summer stared at him, her eyes wide as Emma wriggled against him and tried to rip out his facial hair. Summer cleared her throat, stepping toward him with her arms held open, and he saw his salvation.
Ash slipped up beside her, grabbing her hand and pulling her away. “That’s not allowed, sunshine. You’re coming with us.”
Ramiro’s jaw tightened. He wanted to punch the man for touching her, but he still held a child in his arms. “Ash,” he warned, but only received a smirk and a wink in return as Ash drew Summer outside.
He only got a glimpse of her in the sunlight, but it eased something inside of him. Her eyes didn’t look quite as bruised. The nap had done her good, and his men were only doing what he’d asked.
Summer deserved to have her things around her. Over the years, she’d carefully collected everything that filled up her apartment, each piece chosen to fit in with the others.
Summer stared inside the truck at her belongings before glancing back at Ramiro in confusion. Diego grabbed her attention by handing her the fluffy blue blanket that had been draped over her couch for years. He said something to her, and she turned, staring at Ramiro before walking toward him.
“You had them pack up my apartment?” she asked.
He caught one of Emma’s hands before it could bash him in the nose. “I want to see your things here, mixed in with everything of mine.”
She swallowed. “Ram, no. Your place is perfect. ”
“ Our place will be perfect once I see pieces of you spread everywhere.”
Summer shook her head, her eyes shadowed. “What happens when—”
He stepped into her space, smooshing the toddler between them as he silenced Summer’s words with his mouth. The kiss was soft and brief, but she stilled against him, her eyes locked on his.
“There is nothing temporary about this. You’re mine now, baby girl. What about that wasn’t clear?”
Her tongue flicked out, as if tasting the kiss.
Suddenly, five years since feeling her clench around him was much too long. The things he imagined doing to her were wrong to fantasize about while holding a child in his arms.
He turned, setting Emma down. She took off into the house at a run.
Diego grunted from behind Summer, carrying a box. “That was a mistake. You let her loose. You find her, or I’ll let you keep her until you do.”
Ramiro no longer saw the child at all. The idea that she’d be lost in there forever made sweat drip down his back. “For fuck’s sake, Diego.”
“Language,” Diego said with a smile as he pushed past them and through the doorway.
Summer smiled but tried to hide it. Ramiro pointed at the blanket in her hands. “You. Make this place feel like a home. I’ll work on finding the demon I set loose. ”
Her laughter at his back eased his tension.
Emma was impossible to spot, but she hadn’t yet learned the art of hide and seek. She was way too noisy. Her favorite word was “no.” She liked to shout it whenever Ramiro drew closer, and then she broke into a run when he flinched at the volume. Giggling would follow, and he was exhausted long before Ash and Diego had emptied the truck.
Ramiro managed to corner her in his office. When he pushed back his rolling chair to reach her hiding spot under the desk, she eyed the wheels with another devious look in her eye. Picking her up and setting her in the chair earned him another squeal, and then he was giving her rides around his office, with the occasional spin, but not too fast.
Eventually, Emma curled up on the seat, her butt in the air. She rested her head on one pudgy arm and closed her eyes. He sighed, biting back a groan as he settled on the carpet beside the chair, twirling it slowly side to side while he rested his head against the wall.
He felt old. A three-year-old had worn him out.
Movement in the doorway had his eyes shifting. Diego stared in at them, but he wasn’t smiling. His arms crossed as he stared at Ramiro.
“I’m not cut out for this shit,” Ramiro admitted, his stomach twisting with the truth of it. He’d barely been able to handle an hour with a toddler .
“Neither was I.” Diego crossed the room and transferred his daughter into his arms. “This one wound me around her finger before I could blink, though.”
Ramiro bit back his response. Diego was right. Ramiro never expected his friend to become a family man, but recent events had changed him.
Summer was pregnant. She might want to keep the baby.
Ramiro’s stomach sank as panic settled inside him.
“You moved her in here, knowing she was pregnant,” Diego said, rubbing Emma’s back as he studied Ramiro. “And that woman’s more than just a secretary to you. She has been, for longer than I realized.”
Ramiro couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Her apartment looked familiar the other day. This time, it clicked. I remember putting in the cameras, Ramiro.” He snorted. “And you always called me a voyeuristic creep. What a hypocrite.”
“It was for her protection,” Ramiro mumbled, his neck heating.
“Sure it was. How often did you watch her over the years?”
“Fuck off.” Ramiro’s words held no heat, instead heat crawled across his skin. He really was a creep.
“Your fake security company didn’t exist back then. She wasn’t your secretary. Who is this woman to you, Ram?”
Everything. The word beat inside his head but didn’t escape.
Diego sighed. “Look, it’s none of my business. ”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Ramiro lifted his head, meeting Diego’s worried gaze with a glare.
Diego’s eyes narrowed. “Grow the fuck up.”
Ramiro struggled to his feet, but he couldn’t hit his friend, not when he held a toddler in his arms.
“If you can’t, you need to leave her the fuck alone,” Diego said.
The idea of Summer not being around twisted him up even more. “I can’t.”
Diego snuggled his daughter closer, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Then I guess you’ll figure it out. That’s what being around kids is really like. Everyone figures it out as they go.”
“She might not keep the baby.” Ramiro winced at the edge of desperation in the words.
“You really are an asshole.” Diego turned his back on Ramiro and walked away.
Ramiro gripped the now empty chair, closing his eyes. He listened to the voices deeper in the house and hated that he wasn’t the one at Summer’s side.
He pushed the chair back where it belonged, taking in the room around him. His office already had Summer’s touch.
He stalked toward the door, ready to see her touch all over his house.
S ummer’s fingers grazed the blue bowl on the kitchen island. It didn’t look quite right there. The aquamarine had twinkled with light in her apartment, but the lighting didn’t fall the same way where it sat now. She lifted it into her hands.
Diego and Ash had been more than patient with her when bringing in her things, but nerves had kept her from second-guessing their placement while the men were there. They had more important things to do with their time than deal with her indecisiveness.
Now that they were gone, and Ramiro had disappeared into his office, she felt more comfortable shifting things around. She wouldn’t be bothering anyone.
Ramiro had made it very clear she should think of the place as hers. He’d said there was nothing temporary about it. He had called her his, just like he had when they first met.
There were no truer words. She’d been his for a long time.
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.”
He did, harder than before, hard enough that she’d feel him there long after. She cried out, her ass wriggling against him, but not finding anything to press into the ache between her legs.
All from her neck? That couldn’t be right. She was acting too needy. Fear slithered inside, trying to replace the desire that had been taking over.
Ramiro’s hand slipped under her nightshirt and up. The first touch of his fingers over her already tightened nipple blasted her anxiety away again.
His beard tickled her neck as his mouth moved against her there, making her skin even more sensitive, but it was the way he rolled her nipple that made her lose control of the noises she made. Her body tried to surge forward, but his other hand on her stomach kept her ass tight against him .
He stopped sucking, dragging his tongue over the aching flesh he’d created on her neck before brushing his lips against her ear.
“You’re losing your mind already? Just from this?” His breath slid over her ear, making her aware of her moans when the next one was louder. He groaned. His fingers plucked and rolled her nipple a little harder. “I bet I could make you come just teasing your nipples and your neck. Want to test it, baby girl?” His fingers tightened on her, but also slowed, dragging out the sensation.
“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Please, don’t stop.”
He let out another growl against her pulse before sucking her skin hard.
Her hips tried to push forward but couldn’t get any leverage. He wasn’t touching between her legs. The ache down there was incredible, and she moaned again, writhing against him.
“I think I could. I could make you come from just this.” His teeth and beard scraped, sending shivers through her. “But I won’t make you wait.”
The hand on her stomach slipped under her shorts and underwear, delving between her legs. He groaned as his finger slid over her slit. “Fuck, Summer. You’re soaked.”
She tried to shake her head, but his face was still buried in her neck, talking into her damp skin.
“I’m gonna take care of you.” His finger found her clit, pressing against it as he tugged on her nipple .
The tight pressure on her nipple made the pressure below throb as if they were linked. She tried to writhe, to force his finger on her clit to move, but his fingers spread, his big hand holding her still as that one finger pressed, not moving at all.
“You’re mine, baby girl.” He plucked her nipple again, and she cried out, the ache below intense, too intense. “I need to hear it. Say you’re mine.”
She whimpered, trying to hump his hand but not able to move at all. “I-I’m yours, Ram. I’ve always been yours.”
He groaned, cutting it off by latching on to her neck. His finger stroked over her, the strokes slow but hard as he also pulled on her nipples.
The shaking took over her body, trying to break her into pieces. “Please!” she begged, her body tightening into one nerve centered on her clit. “Please, Ram. Please!”
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re gonna come so hard.” His finger sped up. “You’re so wet. Feel how easy my finger slides?” He brushed to one side of her clit, making her cry out, then cry out again when he brushed to the other side. “You’re so beautiful like this. I know what you need. Just let go.” He slid right over where the ache was centered. Again. And again. “Let go,” he said. “I’m here. I’ll hold you together.”
His mouth latched on to her neck, sucking hard, the pressure on her nipple feeling the same, offset by those slow, steady strokes between her legs .
She screamed as her body surged in waves, a deep pulsing taking over inside. The throb continued with every stroke, and her mind grew fuzzy as the feeling extended.
He was still stroking her when her awareness seeped back in. Her neck burned a little, but the stroke of his tongue eased the ache. Her nipple felt raw. His palm pressed gently against it as he continued to grip her breast.
“You did so good.” The finger between her legs stopped, pulling away, his hand sliding up to press against her stomach. “You’re so beautiful.” He kissed her hair this time, not her neck, nuzzling against her.
Her body had melted. She couldn’t even move her lips fully, too drained of energy. “What about you?”
He remained quiet. A sliver of worry seeped inside.
“Sleep, Summer,” he said, the words coming to her through the fog already taking over. He kissed her hair again, a brief movement that created butterflies in her chest. “I love taking care of you.” His hand slipped away from her chest, hooking around her waist instead. “Just sleep.”
There was no fighting it. She felt so safe and protected that she was already slipping under, but a sadness lingered in her throat.