Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Can you even see to do that?” Corey asked.
“I’m fine.”
Corey growled, and the sound seemed to rumble through my body. If I’d been capable of being turned on feeling like I did, I would have been. “Stop saying that. You look like you’re dying.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You want me to get a mirror?”
I finished my text before I responded. “Don’t you dare. Lucien will send someone.”
“That’s who you texted, not Valentino or Vito?”
“Do not tell them.”
“Dom, they want to help.”
“Promise me.” My head pounded with each word I spoke, and I commanded my stomach to settle, but I had to get this message across. I did not need Corey and my sons all trying to fix me.
“I promise.” I didn’t like how little conviction was behind those words, but I didn’t ask again. I wanted him to go away and leave me to curl up and die on my own.
21
COREY
Dom closed his eyes, and I sat on the edge of the bed, running my hand over his hair.
“Go,” he ordered.
“Don’t you have some medicine you can take or something you can do to lessen the pain?”
“I’m—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re fine.” I shouldn’t be arguing with someone who obviously felt like shit, but he was so stubborn, so unwilling to let me or anyone else help him. How could he not tell his sons? Did they even know he got headaches like this?
He sat partway up and slid open his nightstand drawer.
“I can get it for you.”
But before I could stop him, Dom had extracted a pill bottle. He opened it, poured two pills into his hand, and popped them into his mouth.
“Don’t you want water?” He set the bottle down without saying anything.
Damn, could he be any more infuriating? I walked into his bathroom and filled a cup he had sitting by the sink and brought it to him. “Drink this.”
He waved a hand as if to tell me to take it away, but I didn’t budge. “Even though you got the pills down, you need water. Dehydration is only going to make your headache worse.”
“And you say I’m controlling.”
I could tell that talking made him feel worse. “Hush and drink this.”
He took the water from me, drank several sips, then set it down.
He started to say something else, and I shook my head. “Talking hurts, so stop doing it.” His lips quirked up just a touch, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was—that it was incredibly ironic that I was now telling him to stop talking.
“Roll over onto your stomach and relax. I’m going to give you a massage. It’ll help loosen up your muscles.”
I could tell he wanted to protest, but after a moment, he did as I’d asked. I hated seeing him in pain like this. “Do you get headaches like this a lot? Just squeeze my hand if the answer is yes.” He did.
“I want you to tell me about it later, but right now, I just want you to relax.”
I was sure he hated being told what to do, but he wasn’t in much of a position to argue. Though I was sure if he were really determined, he’d put up a fight. He could probably kill someone more easily like this than I could at my best.
I straddled his hips so I could better reach his neck and shoulders. It would be easy for me to get turned on—I could fit my cock right in the crack of his ass, work my hips back and forth—but it wasn’t the time for that. I’d have to try that out later. Right now, he needed comfort.
He tensed when I leaned forward and pressed my palms against his shoulders, but as I began to work deep into the muscles, he slowly relaxed into the mattress.
I worked the thick, corded muscles of his neck, his shoulders, his upper back, then worked my way down. He sighed with contentment as I pressed my thumbs into his lower back, running up the sides of his spine.
Then I switched my focus, moving myself to his side. I worked his injured leg. I wished he’d let me undress him. Surely he’d be more comfortable resting without his suit on, but I didn’t ask.
I reached for his arm, wanting to work on it too, but I realized that his breaths were coming in a steady rhythm. His body was relaxed. He’d fallen asleep, and that was the best thing for him.
I would work on his arm later; I didn’t want to wake him. I pressed a kiss to his temple.
I hoped the medication and some sleep would help him feel better. I’d kept the lights dim, but now I turned them off and pulled the curtains shut, knowing he probably wanted it dark.
I didn’t really want to leave him, but it was much too early in the day for me to crawl into bed. If I lay with him now, I’d be up most of the night.