Fuck me. Eve was only two weeks old and I was already worrying about shit like that.
I should’ve been more than content with the five of us finally being together, but surprisingly I still had a dark cloud looming over me. It was this whole thing with Eve and the trauma surrounding her birth, I’m sure of it.
I guess I was still spooked.
After lifting the covers back, Carter’s arms instinctively reach out, pulling me into his loving, protective embrace. God I missed him while we were apart. The last two weeks have been hell. With everything going on with Eve, being separated from Carter was the worst. He’s my happy place, my calm after the storm, my sanctuary. I’ve been struggling without him here.
He spent his days at work while I was at the hospital with our daughter, and the nights with Eve. I know it was hard for him being away from us, but he insisted that I be home with the boys at night, and in a real bed where I could get a good night’s sleep. Without him beside me though, that was impossible.
I love how he stepped up, like always. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for me … for our kids. We’re lucky to have him.
“I’ve missed this,” I whisper, resting my face on his chest as I snuggle into his side.
“Me too, baby. Me too,” is all he says as his arms tighten around me, drawing me even closer. When he kisses the top of my head, I lift my face to look at him. I need more than that, I need him. I know it’s only been two weeks since I gave birth to Eve, so we can’t go all the way, but I need some kind of connection with him. Anything. A kiss on the top of the head just won’t cut it.
He groans into my mouth when I place my lips over his. I love him so much. After all this time my feelings for him haven’t lessened at all. If anything they’ve only grown stronger. The troubled teen I met all those years ago, is no more.
A distant memory.
Carter, the man, is confident and comfortable within his own skin. He now knows he is worthy, because he is. He always has been. He’s proven himself over and over. He’s not only a great man, he’s a perfect husband, and a phenomenal father. I love seeing him with the kids. He’s so hands-on, and the love he has for them just radiates off him. It’s safe to say, like me, the boys adore him too.
It doesn’t take long for our kiss to heat up. We still can’t seem to get enough of each other. I don’t think the bond we have will ever dwindle. It’s a love like no other; strong and unbreakable, just like us.
My fingers skim over Carter’s naked, defined torso. His body is still as beautiful as ever. Utter perfection would be the best way to describe him. Sliding my hand down the front of his pyjama bottoms, I grasp his hard, impressive length in my hand. What I wouldn’t give for him to be inside me right now. We both struggled immensely with the abstaining for six weeks after the birth of our boys. This time will be no different.
Carter marked a calendar for my previous two pregnancies, crossing off each day as it passed. The second that six-week time period lapsed, he was on me like a dog on heat.
The more we make out, the more I want him, crave him. I start to work him over with my hand when I feel his body stiffen. “Don’t baby,” he suddenly mumbles against my lips as his hand covers mine, stilling me. What? I immediately pull out of the kiss and raise my head to make eye contact with him.
“Why did you stop me?” I ask, both shock and hurt lining my voice. He’s never done anything like this before. Only when I was sick, but I’m not sick anymore. He doesn’t answer me, but I see something in his eyes. I’m not sure what it is, but it instantly worries me. “Carter,” I plead as I await his reply. Still nothing. There’s no way I’m letting this go. I want to know what the hell is going on.
“Can we just go to sleep?” he eventually replies with a sigh. “It’s been weeks since I’ve slept in a real bed.”
I suppose that’s true. He spent the last two weeks sleeping on a reclining sofa at the hospital whilst caring for Eve, but I have a sinking feeling there’s more to this. I continue to stare at him as I wait for him to elaborate, but he never does. Instead, he pulls my hand out of his pyjama bottoms, and places it on his chest before closing his eyes. “Goodnight,” he whispers.
What the ever-loving fuck? I go from turned on to pissed off in less than a second. He’s damn lucky my hand is no longer clamped around his manhood, that’s all I can say.
I feel like a total prick when Indiana rolls over in a huff and exhales an exasperated breath. I can’t even explain what just happened, because the truth is, I have no fucking clue. All I know is the minute she latched onto my cock and started to stroke me, sheer panic ran through me. Maybe it’s because of the guilt at what I’ve gone and done behind her back. I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. I’ve fucked up. In my heart I know it.