Page 37 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

“Sorry, I got sidetracked with the Marlots. I swear they never stop talking,” the man says, stepping around me until he’s a barrier between me and my—“Joseph, but you can call me Joe.”

This time, I don’t hesitate to take the hand extended in my direction. It’s a bit odd feeling his palm, which is almost as calloused as my own, but it’s refreshing as well.

“Moe Madden,” I introduce myself, smiling. He returns the smile and throws his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer.

“Yup, this one is a good one,” Joe exclaims, causing my chin to tilt up in the air.

I shoot Raylen a wink.

She growls. “You hardly know him.”

Why was I worried about meeting the parents again?

I can hardly remember why. Maybe it was the warmth of the room or perhaps the alcohol, which eased the tension in my shoulders and created a sense of welcome.

Joe shakes my shoulder before letting go and walking over to Raylen's mother.

I couldn't help but focus on how he bent down to kiss her head.

A dusty pink colored her cheeks, reminding me of how my mother would react when my father did the same for her.

I drift toward Raylen, bracing a hand on the back of her chair .

“Don’t you even think about it,” she muttered. I glance nervously between her and the people surrounding the table, managing a light laugh.

“No dancing on the table here?” I tease, confused. A small grin pulls at the corner of her mouth, but she covers it with her glass.

"That too," she shrugs before taking a drink. I can only assume she doesn’t want me to kiss her, so I set my flute beside hers as soon as she places it on a coaster on the table.

It's tempting; I would love to remind her who's really in control and grab her by the cheeks, kissing her until she can't breathe.

However, my father worked hard to teach Caspian and I how to be proper gentlemen, even if he didn't instill the best morals in us.

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur.

The older ladies excuse themselves.

“So, Moe, what do you do for work?” Joe asks as he moves over to where the women were just sitting and straightens the cloth.

I focus on his movements, doing my best to hide a smile as he picks up the champagne glasses and sets them on some coasters.

I often wondered if Raylen's neatness came from some type of OCD or if it was a learned behavior from a woman in her life, but maybe it's a habit she gained from her father.

One day I'll have the answers. Baby steps, though.

“I help with my family’s business,” I say, slipping a hand to the back of Raylen’s neck, fingers brushing under her hair to calm myself.

Joe lifts a brow. Raylen steps in. “He travels.”

“You’ve always wanted to travel!” Raylen's mom cuts in excitedly before straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat. “My apologies, how rude of me. I’m Tessa.”

I nod in acknowledgment, opening my mouth to say something, but Raylen speaks up again. “I don't travel with him, Mom.”

“It’d be good for you, though, and besides, it’d be a good way for you to relax with—”

“Mom,” Raylen says softly, her head darting in her mother’s direction so quickly that her neck pops under my grasp.

I smooth my thumb over the spot, brows furrowed, everything in me aching to push and ask what that was about, but the opportunity is right there, and I can't just let it pass by, so I speak without thinking.

“Don’t let her lie to you,” I joke, rolling my eyes. “I have a trip to Australia coming up, and she’s coming with me.”

“I wha—”

Those eyes. That look.

She’s not mad. She’s stunned in awe, like I just handed her the world.

“Surprise, baby,” I mutter, thankful that she finally lets me press a kiss to her head.

“Don't worry, Rayray. I’ll get a hold of Miss Fae, and I can work out an off period,” Joe begins, but Raylen shakes her head, despite my nose being buried in her hair.

“Please don’t get involved,” Raylen's voice softens, prompting me to pull back. The motion catches her off guard, her body jolts like my touch was a live wire making me hesitate but then she looks up at me with pleading eyes.

There it is. She wants me close.

I knew it. I’m in, baby!

Shooting her a wink, I pull out the chair beside hers and make myself comfortable. It’s clear we’re not leaving for a while, but I don’t mind. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a space where I’ve felt completely comfortable.

As the four of us continue chatting and rambling, ignoring the dozens of guests scattered throughout the house, I get lost in the momentum of it all.

We’re laughing too hard to care when Raylen grabs my hand under the table and threads her fingers through mine.

Her mom is mid-story about Raylen’s third-grade spelling bee meltdown, and I should be focused on that, but I’m not.

I’m watching the way Raylen’s lips curl when she laughs, how her body leans into mine a little more every time I squeeze her hand.

“Come with me for a second?” she murmurs, standing so quietly that the rest of the table barely notices. But I do. God, I do. I know that look in her eyes. The kind that says now . That glimmer of mischief that’s always hiding under her lashes.

She tugs my hand, and I let her lead.

“You okay?” I ask as we slip out of the dining room and into the hall like teenagers sneaking out after curfew.

“More than okay.” She whispers more to herself than to me.

It smells like lilac and old wood the further we get up the steps the second floor hallway.

Her childhood bedroom is at the end—white door, worn brass knob, a faded sticker half-peeled off the frame.

She pushes it open without hesitation, flipping on a lamp.

The walls are a soft lavender that clashes with everything I know about her.

There’s a desk in the corner, notebooks still stacked, and a few awards tucked on a shelf like forgotten relics.

Her bed is small, barely a double, with a comforter that’s floral and faded from too many washes.

It doesn’t suit her anymore, but it explains her.

The moment the door clicks shut behind us, I’m spinning her by the wrist and pressing her back into it.

“That was dangerous,” I murmur against her ear. “Bringing me here. Alone. Upstairs. After looking like that.”

Her breath hitches, and for once, she doesn’t shove me away. Her lips part slightly as I press my body against hers, one hand braced beside her head, the other skimming down her waist.

“You brought me in here for a reason,” I murmur, lips brushing her jaw. “So, go ahead. Take it.”

Raylen’s fingers fist in the front of my shirt as she pushes me toward the bed. It’s the same damn mattress she probably cried into as a teenager, and now she’s backing me onto it with a hunger that makes my pulse thrum.

She shoves me back until I’m sitting, then sinks to her knees like she’s done it a hundred times before, but the look in her eyes as they dart between mine says she hasn’t done this for just anyone. Her fingers move slowly over my belt, deliberate, reverent, like she's testing the waters.

“Fuck, Raylen…” I groan as she pops the button and drags the zipper down, freeing me.

“Don’t get all cocky about it,” she mutters, but her voice is low and tight with need. “Just consider it a thank you… for showing up.”

Before I can make a witty response back, her mouth is on me; warm wet and so fucking sinful.

She doesn’t tease like I'd expect her to. No, she swallows me like she’s starving, her throat working as she takes me in deeper, her lips slick and tight around the base.

I hiss, fisting the sheets as her tongue traces every vein, every pulse point.

Her eyes flick up, and it’s the sight of her like that—kneeling on a childhood rug, surrounded by relics of her innocence with my cock halfway down her throat—that makes my vision blur.

She moans around me, and the sound sends a tremor through my spine. My hand finds her hair, guiding her slowly and rhythmically, the pressure building so fast that it makes my legs tense.

“Ray… fuck—just like that,” I pant, watching her bob her head. “You’re so good at this. You want me to come in your mouth?”

She hums again in response, and it damn near kills me.

But then—right before I let go—she pulls off, dragging her tongue up the underside of my cock before flicking the tip and sitting back on her heels, lips wet, chest heaving.

“You’re such a tease,” I rasp, chest still rising and falling.

She shrugs like it’s nothing, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, but her eyes don’t leave mine.

“I didn’t always get to have control,” she says quietly. “So I like knowing I can take it now. Give it. On my terms.”

My stomach tightens, but something in me also swells.

Its feels so fucking good knowing this is the same girl I finger fucked in the woods who didn't know what they wanted now so confident in herself, and me.

That thought only lasts for a moment before the light dims in her eyes, and my mind fully wraps around the fact that that lone statement means so much more than she's letting on.

I slowly tuck myself back in as I reach for her hand.

“You want to tell me what that means?” I ask carefully, my voice low. Her hands settle on my shoulders as she lets me pull her into my lap, straddling me.

She swallows, then shakes her head. “There was someone. He… wasn’t the best. He disappeared.”

That’s it. No name. No details.

My jaw flexes as my fingers trace slow circles on her thighs.

There’s something there—something dark coiled behind her casual tone—but the warmth of her thighs around my hips distracts me enough to let it go.

For now.

I drag my lips along her collarbone, murmuring, “If he ever comes back…”

“He won’t.” Her voice is a whisper against my cheek. “I promise.”

I want to believe her. I want to press, but I know better. I’ve seen the way people lie to themselves just to survive.

So instead, I tilt her chin up, kiss her slow, deep, and filthy—tasting myself on her mouth—and decide I’ll wait.

Not forever, but long enough for her to trust me with the rest of the truth.

And when she does? I’ll handle it the only way I know how.

“If you say so, sunshine, but I have one more question,” I mutter against her lips. She growls in frustration as she tries to lean back in, only for me to ease my mouth back further from her reach.

“Are you going to give me blue balls every time you want to say thank you?”

“Trust me, you'll be the one thanking me when–”

Before she can even finish her statement, there's a harsh knock on the door, with Joe's voice booming behind it.

“RayRay! No shut doors in this house, even if you're grown!”

“I'm so sorry, Ray! I tried to stop him!” Tess interrupts .

“No, you didn't,” Joe argues.

“That,” Raylen whispers with a laugh that gets muffled by my mouth. I swallow it like it's the air I need to breathe, because at this point, it is. I'm destroying everything just to have this, so I'll be damned if I let it slip through my fingers.