Page 28 of Disciplined: His Forbidden Crush

And yet.

He stepped out of the bathroom, his naked body still glistening with droplets of water from the shower. The towel hung loosely around his hips, but he made no move to cover himself further. As he walked into the living room he stopped dead. Summer was nowhere to be seen.

Mierda, he thought, his heart leaping into his throat. I left him alone and unbound. He’s escaped.

So it had all been a ploy to get him to drop his guard. He cursed himself, and was about to turn and grab his clothes, ready to go after Summer, when he heard a soft, broken sound.

He moved around the sofa and saw Summer still kneeling on the floor where he had left him. He was pressed against the sofa, his face buried in the cushions as soft sobs wracked his slender frame.

God, what had Rafael done to him?

Panic was replaced by guilt. This was his fault. He’d left Summer alone after what they had done, and now…now Summer regretted it.

“Summer,” Rafael murmured softly, approaching the weeping figure on the floor.

At the sound of his name, Summer flinched, shoulders hunching up around his ears. Rafael felt it go through him like a knife-blade.

“Come on,” Rafael said tenderly, bending to take hold of Summer’s arm and ease him to his feet. Summer leaned into the touch, seemingly pliant. Rafael felt the warmth of his skin, the delicate tremble in his body.

Pulling Summer up gently, Rafael wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him, allowing their bodies to press together in a comforting embrace. His chest ached; silently, he cursed himself for having been such a callous bastard, leaving Summer to handle his emotions alone.

Summer had never done that before, had never taken a man in his mouth. He’d been inexperienced, too filled with awe. Rafael remembered the first time he let himself touch a man with intent, and how he’d felt afterward, ashamed and alone. How could have left Summer to process those feelings by himself?

I am the worst of men.

“It’s time for bed,” Rafael murmured softly. He led Summer into the bedroom, one arm still wrapped protectively around his waist. The room was dim and quiet. Rafael turned on the bedside lamp, casting the bed in a warm, comforting glow.

“Shh,” Rafael murmured as they approached the bed. He knew he had to tie Summer up, as he had been doing every night since he’d taken Summer captive, but this time he intended to be gentler, more considerate. Guilt bung heavy in his chest, and he hoped that by being tender, he could make amends for his cruelty.

Taking Summer’s wrists gently in his hand, Rafael looped a length of rope around them, making sure not to pull too tight or cause discomfort. As he secured the knot, Rafael glanced at Summer’s face, searching for any sign of distress, and found only a quiet acceptance in those brilliant green eyes.

He secured the rope to the bedpost, conscious of the way Summer’s body seemed to react differently to the gentle touch. Rafael climbed onto the bed next to him, settling down beside him. His mind churned, too many thoughts trying to take hold at once. He knew what he had been sent to do—to tame Summer and take him home to Garcia—but that wasn’t what he’d done earlier. He’d done that out of selfishness. Like the spanking, it had been for him, not for his ostensible goal.

And what had it done to Summer? Why had Summer offered what he had? What was his motive?

Is this what he wants? He desires men, that much is true, but he cannot desire me. It’s not possible.

But it was possible. Rafael knew what he looked like, and he knew how young men like Summer looked at him sometimes.

Summer breathed out shakily, squirming against the pillow. He was still dressed. Rafael was still wrapped in a damp towel. That was going to have to change at some point. For now, it would be a shield between them

Gingerly, Rafael put his arm around Summer and pulled him in until Summer’s spine was flush against his torso. He held Summer, feeling the tremors shaking him still. Twice today he had made Summer cry. The first time had been wonderful. The second felt like an accusation.

“Hey,” he murmured softly. “¿Estás bien?”

Summer sighed, “It was just a blow job, Rafael. Don’t get all sentimental on me.”

The casual dismissal didn’t sit right. Rafael hesitated for a moment before asking, “How many men have you had in your mouth?”

“Ha!” Summer chuckled wetly. “A hundred, maybe? I’ve lost count.”

Anger surged through Rafael, dark and possessive. His jaw tightened, and he fought to keep his emotions in check, even as an ugly jealousy coiled around his heart. But as he gazed at Summer’s profile, he saw something there that made him pause—a flicker of uncertainty that betrayed the lie.

“Veranito,” Rafael said gently, his voice low and intimate. “I know you’re lying.”

Summer blinked, then turned his head away. Rafael cupped Summer’s cheek tenderly, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice almost painfully honest. “I’ve had my dick sucked by men before. I know when someone is new to it.”

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