“I didn’t bring my body wash,” I say, turning to face Carter.
He shrugs. “Use mine for now, but you can let George know, and he’ll…” He pauses, biting his lip and closing his eyes slowly. “Someone will get it for you.”
I put my hand on his arm because I can’t reach his shoulder. “I’m sorry about George.”
“It’s fine,” he says, shaking his head and attempting a smile. “We all have to go someday.”
“That’s true,” I say, looking past him for the bottle of body wash. I spot a tall black plastic bottle in the corner with orange text on it. I swear men’s products are always black and orange like it’s Halloween. “Can you hand me that?” I ask, pointing to it.
“Oh, yes,” he says, seeming relieved for the quick change of subject. He twists his midsection, leaning down and picking up the bottle. He’s so tall that he has no problem reaching all the way to the corner to get it without taking a step. It’s impressive.
Carter pops the lid to the bottle, turning it over in his hand and squirting a thick blue gel into his palm. He slaps it against his thick chest, rubbing it in as the rich white suds seep from the cracks between his fingers. He holds the bottle out to me as he lathers himself.
I take it, unable to tear my eyes from his chest. His movement is hypnotic, and the smell of the body wash is like an enchanted forest full of divine masculine spectacles. I don’t know where he got this stuff, but suddenly, I don’t want any more of my own. I’ll be his scent twin, and he won’t be able to stop me.
“Go slower,” Carter says as I begin to lather the aromatic gel on my breasts, mirroring his action.
I lean back into the water, letting it wash the suds down to my stomach, leaving my breasts glistening wet and bare for him to see. His cock was starting to go down, but now it’s rising again, jerking upward as blood pumps from his groin to fill it. I’m starting to realize the power I have over him, and it’s simply delicious.
“Fuck, you really are perfect,” Carter mumbles, raising two soapy fingers to my breast.
He barely grazes my nipple, but it sends a powerful jolt of electric joy through my body. I feel like he zapped me with pure sexual energy, raising the level of illogical horniness in my body ten-fold. I shudder under the hot water, then lean back to get away from his touch. It’s too much. I can’t handle him.
Carter doesn’t attempt another move like that for the remainder of the shower, but I know what’s on his mind. It’s blatantly apparent from the smirk on his lips and the stiffness of his manhood that he’s turned on by me. He loves to see me like this, naked and wet from the shower and flushed in the face from the heat.
I’m discovering just as much about myself as he seems to be. This isn’t territory I’ve ever explored, despite my maturity and normal upbringing. I’d call myself a late bloomer, but I’m more of an after-summer-passes bloomer. I didn’t even know I cared about men enough to care about what one thinks of me until I married one. As strange as it is, I find myself increasingly concerned about how Carter really feels about me. Does he like me, or is he just looking to tear my panties off and have a go with me? Would I mind, either way?
Chapter Thirteen
Carter
More meetings, more boredom, and the only thing that I can think about is Honey. She’s at home, safely guarded by the stout and serious Henry, who is determined to prove that nobody gets past his security detail, at least not while still in the land of the living. I appreciate that guy, and I hope that Honey doesn’t give him too hard of a time.
She wasn’t a big fan of being locked in the house while I attended my meetings, but I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to do with her. I want to keep her safe more than anything, even if she thinks I’m an asshole for it. I can’t stand the thought of her getting caught up in the violence that’s so prevalent in the mafia.
I crumple an empty paper cup and toss it into a rusty green trash bin next to the sidewalk as I come out of a black office building downtown. It feels odd to be in this specific neighborhood because it was formerly the Dormer Mafia’s territory. It would’ve been dangerous for me to be lurking around, but now I won it. I just hope everyone has been updated on that, so I’m not eating bullets for lunch today.
Speaking of which, I would normally go back to the main office to eat lunch, but today I thought it would be nice to slide by Dean’s noodle shop and order the least offensive thing on the menu. He’s supposed to be getting the place cleaned up so that they don’t drop below acceptable sanitation ratings, but I’ll believe it when I see it.
“Hey, clown in the suit,” a man with a New York accent shouts from behind me.
I’m not used to being addressed in such a way, so I give him my attention, turning my head to make sure that he was even talking to me.
He was.
“You’re that guy, ain’t you?” he asks, hobbling up to me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, shaking my head.
“No, don’t leave yet. I want to know. Is you that guy or not?” he asks, hobbling faster.
“I’m nobody, so leave me alone,” I grumble. It’s probably time to leave.
“Yes, you
