Page 35 of With This Ring

My body is a furnace when I wake up, sweat coating my chest and forehead. But I don’t move. I’ve grown used to having Carter wrapped around me when I wake up. He told me I thrashed around a lot in the hospital and when I got back home, but I don’t remember. He said the only way to keep me calm through the night was if he held on to me. I’m not sure how true that is, but I find I don’t mind.

It’s been a week since I got jumped by those fucking cowards and had my wallet stolen, but I’m feeling almost at one hundred percent. I get headaches and dizziness when I stand too fast or do too much, but I’m on the mend.

My fucking husband won’t allow me to do much of anything by myself. He’s taken saying he owns me to heart. He’s bathed me, walked me to the bathroom, helped me downstairs for dinner that he cooked—he’s a terrible fucking cook and I let him know it so often he gets takeout—and changed my clothes. He’s been waiting on me hand and foot—though not without grumbling. If he seemed too happy about helping me, I’d think he was body snatched or something.

“Move,” I mutter, pushing against his arm, even though I liked how the warm weight felt around me.

I’m trying to get used to wanting more from Carter. Or at least admitting it. I’ve kept to myself for so long that letting someone in is hard. Especially because it’s Carter. He’s been on my shit list for so long, I can’t pinpoint exactly when our hatred for each other started.

But maybe he’s the person I need. He understands me, since he’s in the business too, the heir to a mafia family. I won’t have to explain the life to him. Won’t have to explain the danger or feel responsible for him in a way I would a civilian. Maybe I should try a bit harder. It’ll be difficult,since it’s Carter, but I want to try.

He releases a sleepy chuckle and rolls off me, looking up at the ceiling. “Good morning to you too.” He glances over at me. “How do you feel?”

I curl my lip to give him a snarky answer, but I tell myself to chill out. I’m supposed to betrying. “Better.” I touch the back of my head where the stitches are. There’s no pain there. “I think the stitches can come out today.”

“Let me see.” I turn over so Carter can look at where my head looks like I’m part Frankenstein. The soft brush of his fingers over my scalp makes me shiver. “Looks good. You want to go to the hospital and have them do it or for me to call our doc?”

“Call the doc.” I roll back over and glance at him. I study his expression—his clear, but still sleepy eyes, the plumpness of his mouth from just waking up and his dipped eyebrows from the sun beating down on him. He doesn’t look like he thinks me lying in his bed or him checking out my injury is weird. Even though everything about this situation is weird.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I blurt out.

It’s such a childish question, but I’m not sure how else to ask it. Carter was probably more into our beef than I was, seeking me out to start shit most times. But he’s rolling with not being so openly hostile, like it’s nothing. Like it’seasy.

He shrugs. “I saw you beat to shit last week. I didn’t like it. I take care of what I claim. That means your body and your feelings.” I scoff and turn away, but Carter turns my face back to him. “You don’t gotta believe me. You’ll see. Let’s get our day started. There’s something I need to show you.”

Sighing hard, I sit up and wait for the dizziness. When it doesn’t come, I stand and stretch, feeling so much better. My ribs are still sore and my bruises still healing, but it’s not as bad as it was. I feel like I can get back to work.

Over the past week while I’ve been recovering, Nico has been taking care of my business and anything else I needed doing. He’s invaluable as my right-hand man. I’m sure he’ll be relieved to know I’m almost at one hundred percent and he can go back to his own duties.

“Any word on the threats?”

“Nothing. Shit has been quiet since you got attacked. I’m starting to believe they may have been behind it.”

I shake my head carefully. “I don’t think so. None of the men seemed to recognize me and I don’t think they were affiliated. If it was whoever was after both our families, I think they would have gloated about having me cornered with no protection.”

Now that I think about my disappearing act, I realize how foolish I was. I let words put me in danger to almost be kidnapped or worse by someone that means the St. Clair’s and Whitlock’s no good. I could have gotten everyone killed because I didn’t use my fucking brain. That tanks my mood, taking away the good feeling I had because I didn’t wake up dizzy with a throbbing headache.

“I’m gonna take a shower in my room,” I tell Carter grumpily and take a step towards the door.

His hand wraps around my waist, pulling me back against him. He’s taller and not as wide as me, but he’s still hard and strong. I lean into him, sighing when he keeps me upright. God,my head is so fucked up when it comes to Carter. I like how he touches me and how he takes care of me, but my mind is still stuck on him being my enemy. I’m not supposed to like anything he does, just because he’s a Whitlock.

But there’s no denying that my body lights up when he touches me. When he’s near, I feel a tingle all over my skin, an awareness to him that I’ve never felt for anyone else. I’m so fucking confused and I don’t know who to talk to about it. No one I know is married to their enemy and is confused by his touch and his nearness.

Carter bends to my ear and says, “I don’t think so. You could fall and hurt yourself. You’ll shower in here while I shave, and I’ll get in after you. Unless you want me to help wash your back.” His lips land on my shoulder and the crook of my neck. The wetness of his tongue makes me shiver when it darts out to taste me.

“You can,” slips from my mouth before I think too much about it. Even if I’m trying to figure out if I like him as a person, I know I like his body against mine.

I feel his smile against my skin as he wraps himself tighter around me. “I’ll wash your back if you wash mine.”

“Ugh,” I groan, squirming out of his arms. “Let go. We have to get to work, right?” His chuckle makes a flush bloom over my skin.

Even though I’m not dizzy, I still take it slow, taking my time to get to the bathroom and start the shower. I undress and step under the warm spray, sighing when the hot water splashes across my body. I’ve been relegated to sponge baths from Carter for the past week. It’s nice to stand under my own steam and have the water beat down on me.

The shower door opens and cool breeze wafts in before Carter closes it. I stare at Carter’s naked body. I’ve seen him withjust his underwear on, but never his entire body naked as the day he was born.

Fuck, Carter is a work of art. Tattooed everywhere above the waist and more littered here and there on his legs. Muscles ripple under tan flesh. My eyes take him in, stopping when I get to his cock. It’s big. Bigger than I remember and hard as a rock, sticking straight out at me. I swallow the saliva that pools in my mouth.

He looks like he tastes good. His large dick and heavy balls bob in the air, as if taunting me.

---