Текст книги "A Pound of Flesh"

Автор книги: Sophie Jackson

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

15

Carter’s entire apartment shook as he slammed the door shut behind him. He launched his keys and jacket against the wall, threw his helmet on the sofa, and collapsed against the breakfast bar of his loft. He’d been struggling to breathe properly since Peaches had walked away from him.

She’d walked away.

Christ, that had hurt.

When Carter had put his mouth to Peaches’, he’d lost himself. She felt so good pressed against him and yet, he could do nothing but handle her as though she would fracture under his fingertips. He’d never kissed a woman that way before. He’d surprised himself at his own tenderness. The hunger for her that resided deep within him was desperate to take her wild and hard against the tree, but the moment they touched he knew there was no way he could do that to her. He beat the hunger back and held her as gently as he could.

Their lips had moved together so slowly and tentatively. But Carter had wanted more.

With her pulse thrumming under his fingertips, he’d kissed her with everything he had. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel more of her. He wanted her to touch him.

He’d fucked up. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Peaches had even told him not to. But he’d done it regardless. He just didn’t have the fight left in him anymore.

He knew, now that he had experienced the feel of Peaches on his lips, he had to have it again. And he knew that was an impossibility, just as she had told him. Nevertheless, Carter couldn’t help but suspect her determined promise that it wouldn’t or couldn’t happen again was a carefully constructed front that hid her own desires for him. She’d kissed him back, for fuck’s sake. She wanted it, too. Didn’t she?

He rubbed his brow at the realization that the situation just wasn’t on their side.

Carter wasn’t stupid; he understood she had a lot more to lose than he did and that, should their kiss be found out, she could be in a whole heap of shit. But he didn’t have to like it. His temper and selfish side started to escalate.

He thought back to what he’d said to her. What-the-fuck-ever. Like I give a shit if it happens again.

He was a lying son of a bitch.

The fact was her words had hurt. He’d been hurt before, by many people in his life, but Peaches seemed to know how to cut him to the quick. He wasn’t so much of a dick that he couldn’t admit it. She’d hurt him and he was pissed.

He glanced at the clock, a bitch of a headache starting in his temples. It was just before five, and he needed something to help him chill out and cut loose. He needed to stop thinking about Miss Lane, with her soft lips and peach-flavored tongue.

He pulled out his cell and found his contacts list. The line rang three times.

“Yo, Carter! How was your date—I mean, session?”

“Eat a dick, Max,” Carter snarled, striding toward his bedroom.

“Whoa, such hostility! It didn’t go well, I take it?”

Carter pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped down onto the corner of his bed. “No. It didn’t,” he snapped. “Look, what have you got planned for tonight?”

“Not much. Why, you thinkin’ of something?”

Carter ran a hand down his face. “I need to get shitfaced, and quick. Where can we go?”

Max laughed. “I know just the place, my man. Come to the body shop in an hour.”

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

* * *

“Keep moving!” the stranger hissed from under his hood. “We have to get away from them. They’ll kill you! Move!”

“I can’t! My dad!”

The stranger didn’t stop to listen. Gunfire filled the air. Kat screamed. She began running but was wrestled to the ground. He was heavy on top of her back and smelled of cigarettes.

The sidewalk was so cold.

“Stay here,” he breathed into her hair as she wriggled beneath him. “You can’t go back. He told you to run, for Christ’s sake.”

Kat shot up from her bed, gasping and hoarse from the scream that died slowly in her throat. Her face was wet, as were her clothes, from the sweat pouring from her.

She leaned against the headboard, taking in a huge lungful of air when she remembered she was in her bed. It had been a while since she’d had such a dream, yet the effects of it were just the same. With a groggy head, she lifted herself from her bed and made her way to the bathroom, knowing a bath would relax the muscles in her neck and back that were still tense.

After her long soak, and a good hour of tears, she pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie and put on the DVD of School of Rock for some light Jack Black entertainment. A knock at the door had her glancing at the clock, wondering who would turn up at her door past eight on a Saturday night.

Her heart thumped hard when she peered through the peephole. She unlocked the dead bolt and pulled the door open, leaning on it with her hip. She stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to say.

“Can I come in?” Beth asked in a quiet but firm voice.

“Sure,” Kat answered, standing back to allow her to enter.

Beth stepped in and stood awkwardly while Kat shut the door behind her.

“Can I get you a drink?” Kat tucked her air-dried hair behind her ears. Beth nodded.

Kat shuffled to the kitchen. Once Kat had poured Beth’s drink and handed it to her, she walked, without a word, back toward the sofa and sat. Beth followed and sat at the far end of the couch, sipping her drink.

Kat placed the TV on pause as Jack Black started singing about straight As, then she turned to her friend. “How are you?”

Beth gave a small smile. “I’m okay.” She placed her glass on a coaster on the coffee table. “How are you?”

Kat crossed her arms, feeling weirdly defensive. “I’m fine. Tired.”

Beth clasped her hands in her lap. “Austin said you weren’t well. That’s why I came: to see if I could do anything for you.”

Kat sighed, thinking about the text that she’d sent Austin, the lie she’d written to get out of going for drinks with him, unable to see him after the kiss with Carter. “I don’t need anything.” She saw an uncomfortable shift in her friend. “So where’ve you been? You haven’t replied to any of my texts.”

“I know,” Beth conceded. “I’m sorry. There’s been some family stuff Adam’s been dealing with.” Her eyes darted to a pile of Carter’s work lying on Kat’s coffee table.

“Is everything okay? You should have called.” Kat blinked at the answering silence. “Have I upset you? You seem, I don’t know … off. And that whole performance at my birthday dinner—I just … get the feeling something’s wrong.”

Beth moved closer to Kat on the sofa. She sighed and pressed her lips together. “No.” She cleared her throat. “No, nothing’s wrong, I– I just worry about you. You know, working at Kill and with Carter one-to-one outside of the prison. I wanted—I want—to make sure you’re all right.”

Kat stared at Beth for a beat, wondering what it was that she wasn’t being told. Too tired to figure it out, she searched for the right words. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Kat barked out a laugh and shook her head while making a mumbled noise of words that made no sense. “Not really,” she answered, her throat closing up again. “I’m just a stupid, stupid idiot.”

Beth sat back. “Kat, what happened?” She paused before asking, “Did he hurt you?”

Kat’s head snapped up. “What?” she asked incredulously. “Why would– Who?”

“Carter,” Beth answered. “Did Carter hurt you? That’s who you’re talking about, right?”

The tears Kat had tried like hell to keep back dropped down her face. Her face scrunched up with despair and a sob broke from her throat.

“Oh God.” Beth pulled Kat into her side. “I knew it. Shhh, it’s okay. If he hurt you, we can send his ass back to Kill. Adam and Austin can—”

“No, Beth!” Kat sobbed. “I fucked up. Me.” Beth stayed quiet. “He didn’t hurt me. He would never hurt me.”

Kat didn’t know why, but she’d always known Carter would never do anything to cause her physical pain. She felt safe with him, even when he’d thrown a table across her classroom. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he moved around her, that made Kat feel secure and impervious to any danger.

She knew—deep in her soul—that he would protect her if she needed him to.

“Kat, what the hell happened?”

Kat sniffed. “He kissed me. And I kissed him back.”

16

“Well, shave my ass and call me Priscilla! It’s a motherfucking Kill reunion up in here!”

Riley’s booming bass voice smacked Carter and Jack around the head like a baseball bat before his mammoth body launched from Carter’s apartment doorway at the two of them and pulled them into a death squeeze.

“Oh, I’m so happy,” Riley chimed sarcastically as Carter grumbled and pushed his oafish ass away.

“Dammit, dude,” he said, stretching his back out of the concertina Riley had made of it. “Calm the hell down.”

Riley smirked. “I see freedom hasn’t chilled your uptight ass out any. I, on the other hand, have been free for forty-eight hours and everything is awesome!” He turned to Jack before Carter could respond. “How’s it hanging, J?”

Jack chuckled and straightened his jacket. “I’m hanging fine, Riley. Good to see you. I’ll see you on Thursday for our meeting.” He slipped past him and waved. “We’ll talk soon, Wesley.”

Carter nodded and closed the door behind him while Riley sauntered into the apartment and looked around the place like a prospective buyer or some shit. Carter sighed.

“What can I do for you, Moore?”

Riley patted his enormous chest with his palms and smiled. “You got any beer? I’m about parched.”

With two beers in hand, Riley dropped himself onto the couch while Carter fiddled with his cell phone, feeling disgruntled. It’d been two days since the kiss in Central Park, and he still hadn’t heard from Peaches. Not that he’d expected to, but it didn’t stop him from being fidgety as all hell. He had no idea what he was going to say to her when they met for their session.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Riley asked nonchalantly, sipping his beer.

Carter shook his head, threw his cell to the side, and lit a cigarette. “So how’s it feel being out? Forty-eight hours? I’m surprised I’ve not seen your ass sooner.”

Riley smiled. “You know me, Carter: places to see, people to do.”

Carter laughed and raised his eyebrows in agreement.

“Not that you’re not important to me or anything,” Riley added with a wry wink. “But I had to get some shit organized.”

Carter paused. “You getting involved with hot parts again?”

Riley frowned. “No. No, man. That was a mistake I will not be reliving. I just had a few deals to settle. Jack here for the usual?”

“Yeah,” Carter replied. “Diane was here earlier. She’d have loved to have seen you.” The two men snorted.

Riley and Diane hadn’t always had the best relationship. To say that she didn’t understand his foul-mouthed humor was an understatement.

“She wants me,” Riley answered coolly as he sat back and kicked his feet up. “What can I say?”

“Of course she does.” Carter chuckled but stopped abruptly when his cell beeped with an incoming text. Max. Dammit.

“That your new … female plaything?” Riley winked.

“No. It’s not my new ‘plaything,’” he barked before looking back at the cell screen.

“Okay, okay,” Riley retorted before he lit his own smoke. “Chill yourself, asshole. It was only a question.”

Carter exhaled and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “I know … just … It’s not like that.”

“Things are going well with Miss Lane, I assume,” Riley commented smoothly.

Carter extinguished his smoke and blew rings toward the ceiling. “Just swell” was his curt reply.

Riley hummed as though daydreaming. “Damn,” he said in a low voice that he saved for seduction and all things nasty. “I do miss her tight ass in those pencil skirts.” He licked his lips. “And those legs? I could have smooched on those bad boys for—”

“Shut the fuck up, Moore!” Carter bellowed. He snapped his arm up and pointed at Riley menacingly. “Watch your mouth about her.”

Riley lasted all of three seconds with Carter’s finger in his grill before his face creased into a smile the size of the Hoover Dam.

“Well, I’ll be goddamned.” He snickered with his hands up. “You and Miss L, huh? Nice.”

Carter’s arm dropped instantly and a groan of realization and frustration left him. He rubbed his palms down his face and mumbled into them.

“It’s not like that, okay? I mean, I want it– I want her to … fuck.” He snatched his beer from the table and fell back into his chair.

Riley chuckled and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, man, I’m not interested in the hows, whys, or what-the-fuck-ever. I’m just glad that I won the bet I had with myself.”

Carter narrowed his eyes. “Bet?”

“Yeah, I bet myself how long it would take for you two to bone once you were out.” He smacked his huge chest with both of his fists. “Guess I won, huh?”

Carter blinked in shock. “For Christ’s sake, Moore. We haven’t even– Shit, it’s not about boning.”

“Oh yeah, I know, but you get my drift.” Riley smiled and put his smoke in the ashtray. “Hey, talking of fucking hot women, a few of us are going to hit a couple of bars tonight. You in?”

Carter shook his head. “Nah, man, I’ve got stuff to do.”

Riley waggled his eyebrows. “Or someone …”

Despite himself, Carter couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

At the end of Kat’s class at Kill the following Tuesday afternoon, she found herself walking toward Jack’s office. Her feet and legs became sluggish, almost willing her not to keep going. But she had to. She needed answers and direction. And, truthfully, even with talking with Beth about her anguish from hurting Carter, there was no one else.

Gathering herself, she knocked lightly against the door.

“Come in.”

Jack smiled when he saw Kat peer around the doorframe. “Miss Lane,” he said, standing from his seat. “Good to see you. What can I do for you?”

Kat bit her lip and allowed her body to slide gradually into the room. She closed the door, grasping the handle as if her life depended on it.

Jack looked concerned. “Are you all right?”

Kat tried to smile back, to reassure him, but it fell flat. She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “I need to ask you a hypothetical question,” she muttered.

Jack frowned. “Hypothetical.” Kat nodded. “Well,” Jack continued, “I’ll certainly do my best.”

He gestured for Kat to take a seat before he sat back down and placed the papers he’d been reading back into a folder. Kat slinked over to a chair and sat down. This was hell. She fisted her hands in her lap and averted her eyes. She never behaved like this. She was usually so sure and steadfast.

“Miss Lane,” Jack said, sitting forward. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” she rasped through a dry throat. “I was just– I was—”

“Did Carter do something wrong?”

Kat shook her head. No. Everything Carter had done had been oh so right.

“I saw him yesterday,” Jack continued. “He seemed anxious about something. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, of course—”

“Who do I speak to about quitting as his tutor?”

The words tumbled from her mouth with such speed, she was amazed they came out in the correct order. As the words settled around them, all she felt was pain. Not physically, but emotionally. She was angry at herself for asking the question she never thought she would. Her eyes became blurry, but she swallowed the tears. She’d done enough crying to last her a lifetime.

“Why would you want that?” Jack asked in a soft voice. “Are you sure he didn’t do something?”

The smile that tugged at Kat’s lips was weak but reassuring. “I’m sure,” she murmured. “Who do I speak to and what are the procedures?”

“Kat,” he said, “why do you want this?” He held his hand up when she started to jump in with an answer. “What I mean is if he hasn’t done anything wrong, or violated the conditions of his parole, how are you going to justify quitting as his tutor?”

Kat closed her mouth, defeat skating down her neck.

“The fact is,” Jack continued, “if you want to quit as his tutor—and you have every right to, if you so wish—you have to give just cause to the board.”

“Really?” she asked in a voice that was quiet and beaten.

Jack rested his elbows on the desk. “It will cause questions, and I’m not sure you’d want to answer them.”

Well. That was that.

“Kat, if I may?” Jack made to stand and gestured toward the chair at Kat’s side.

“Sure,” she replied, watching him come around his desk and sit down next to her.

“I don’t want to upset you with what I want to say.”

“It’s okay, Jack. I’m willing to listen to just about anything right now.”

Jack cleared his throat and fiddled with his tie clasp. “It’s clear that you two are … fond of each other. But if you and Carter are involved in a relationship that is more than simply teacher/student, then I have to warn you. I have to tell you that, even with Carter on parole, you’re still working for the prison, and, as such, you’re contravening the teacher code of the facility, including the non-fraternization policy you agreed to and signed, as well as placing yourself at risk of prosecution.”

Kat’s face crumpled. That all sounded horrifically scary. “Jack, Carter and I aren’t—”

“But,” Jack interrupted with a hand on Kat’s forearm, “if you aren’t together until the probationary period of his parole is over, then there would be no problem.”

Kat knew this already. She knew she’d have to wait until her contracted time with Carter was over before they could be together. If she wanted them to be together.

Was that what she wanted?

She wanted to see what was between them, of course; she couldn’t deny that. But it was useless. The odds were stacked against them both.

“And to be totally clear,” Jack said, “if you and Carter are together and nobody knows until the end of his probationary period, then there would be no problem.”

Kat lifted her head. Was he being serious? She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see through his bullshit but came up wanting. He was being totally serious.

“Are you saying that—”

“All I’m saying is that what people don’t know can’t hurt ’em.”

Why was he willing to be discreet about her relationship with Carter? He had nothing to gain from it. “Why are you saying this?”

Jack squeezed her hand. “He needs you, Kat. Even if he hasn’t truly realized it yet, he needs you.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”

Jack smiled. “Kat, you’re the only person who can. You put him in his place, you don’t take his bullshit, you’ve reached out to him in a way no one else ever has. Take your time, and try not to panic or worry. What more can you do?”

Kat thanked Jack for his time and understanding. She trusted him to keep what had been said between them. Despite the fears she had about her friends and family and their reactions toward her and Carter’s relationship, it made her heart feel less heavy, knowing there were people who saw it as something positive.

She decided that she’d start to do the same.

17

Kat shifted in her seat while Carter read Hemingway in the library that afternoon. He was sitting with his ankle resting on his knee. Black jeans, boots, gray AC/DC T-shirt, tattoos, rings, and a black beanie covering his buzz cut.

Their greetings at the beginning of the session had been torturous at best, with Kat wanting nothing more than to hightail it home and lose herself in a couple of stiff drinks. Never had she felt more chaotic, more off balance. Her mind whirred unrelentingly with question after question, punctuated with words from her conversation with Jack and her talk with Beth, before it would go back to the kiss.

Oh God, the kiss.

Throughout their session, her gaze landed unapologetically on Carter’s mouth. She cleared her throat when he glanced up at her, as if sensing her staring, and halted in his reading. Her cheeks warmed. She averted her eyes back to the page.

Carter frowned before he continued: “‘I had treated seeing Catherine very lightly, I had gotten somewhat drunk and had nearly forgotten to come, but when I could not see her there I was feeling lonely and hollow.’”

“Okay, stop there.” Kat laid her copy of the text facedown on the desk between them, alongside the Oreos and can of Coke Carter had brought. “In regard to the last few pages, what do you notice about the change in Henry’s attitude toward Catherine?”

Carter fidgeted and his fingers became wedged under the edge of his beanie while he scratched his head. His eyes flickered to hers nervously.

“He’s, um, he’s confused by his feelings.” He picked up his can of Coke and took a long sip.

“How do you know that?” She watched his Adam’s apple dip and rise in his throat.

“Because he misses her, you know, when, um, when she’s not there.”

His eyes met Kat’s for a split second, but that was enough time to send a burning-hot dagger of desire straight through her center.

“How do you know he’s confused?”

Carter smiled with the right corner of his mouth. A knowing look shimmered across his high cheekbones. “A hunch.” He looked at the text. He scratched at his jaw. “He’s … ‘hollow.’ He’s empty without her.”

His blue gaze lifted from Hemingway’s words. What Kat saw there made her heart almost stop.

Usually, when Carter’s eyes were on her, Kat saw raw sex and desire. It always tinged his irises, making them a cloudless blue. That was still there, but more prevalent than that was a remorseful haze surrounding every inch of his pupils. It was so clear, Kat knew without his saying a word how he was feeling. He was sorry. And she felt the exact same way.

She had no idea how long they sat—looking at each other, lost in each other—and only returned to where she was when Carter touched her. His palm was warm and comfortable on the back of her hand, and the hot fizz of energy that was always present between them breathed a sigh of relief.

It seemed like forever since he’d touched her.

Carter edged forward. “Peaches,” he said, allowing his thumb to smooth its way across her skin. He kept his eyes on the table where their hands joined. His hands felt so good. Fleetingly, her mind began to imagine how they would feel on other parts of her.

Her attraction to Carter was slowly turning into something more, something scary and irrevocable. She was tired of denying it, of course, but she still had to tread a careful path.

Carter’s hand squeezed hers. “About Saturday—”

“It’s fine.”

“No,” he retorted firmly. “It’s not. It was– I mean, yeah, the kiss was …” He raised his eyebrows. “Look, whatever you think of me, I didn’t kiss you to be a dick. Honestly.”

“I know, I—”

“The thing is.” He paused, his brows almost meeting in the middle. “The thing is, I might not have flowery fucking words or anything, but I’m … I’m serious about you.”

Dizziness accosted Kat, making her grip on Carter’s hand tighten.

“I know it’s not the perfect situation.” He pointed to himself. “I’m just a … and you’re … but, fuck, I’m happy to have anything you’re willing to give me at this point. Just sitting here with you would be enough.”

The sincerity of his words made Kat want to fall into his arms and never leave them. Unable to articulate how hard her heart was beating, she simply uttered, “Okay.”

Carter appeared satisfied with her answer. “Okay?”

She smiled.

“Are we good?” he asked quietly, watching her carefully.

Kat cleared her throat. “We’re good.”

Carter exhaled, seemingly torn. “I’m glad, but I need you to understand something, Peaches.” He licked his lips. “I’m not sorry, and I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.”

Oh God.

Realizing she was staring and barely breathing, Kat dragged her eyes from Carter and quickly pulled a folder full of papers from her bag. Change the subject. Change the subject …

“Do you want these now?” She placed them on the table.

Carter scowled. “And what are ‘these’?” He slid the folder toward himself.

“Your resources for next week.”

Carter blinked, confused.

“I’m going away,” Kat clarified. “With my family, to Washington, DC.” She let her fingertips dance along the edging of the table. “It’s the anniversary of my father’s … We do it every year. I’ll be out of town from Sunday to Sunday.”

Carter’s face changed imperceptibly. He didn’t look happy. After scratching the back of his neck, he slid his hands into his pockets. “Um, yeah, okay.” The frown was tight above the bridge of his nose.

“Just do what you can,” Kat encouraged. “I’ve assigned you some more reading and questions, and we need to talk about an assessment paper …”

She trailed off when Carter’s dark, somber gaze met hers.

“Text me,” she said without thinking. “Or call me if you need any help. Don’t hesitate. I– Yeah, just, just call me.”

“I will.”

Kat tried to smile but it was harder work than she expected. Leaving to be with her family at this time of the year was one thing; leaving Carter for a whole week was another. She was suddenly very hollow indeed.

* * *

Carter was edgy: edgy and fucking miserable, to be quite honest, despite it being Saturday night.

He took a huge gulp from the fifth bottle of Corona placed in his hand by Max and rubbed a finger along his eyebrow. Seriously, seven days. How hard could it be? He only saw his Peaches three times a week anyway, so technically it was only six hours he’d be missing.

Big. Deal.

He sighed. Yeah, it was a big deal. They’d had their last session a day ago and already he could feel an uncomfortable sensation of wanting and emptiness curl within his stomach at the thought of not seeing her.

Dammit.

Paul, Max’s head mechanic from the body shop, knocked Carter’s elbow, which was resting on the bar.

“What’s up?” he asked above the music. “You look like someone pissed on Kala.”

Carter stood from his hunched position. “Nothin’. I’m good.”

“Don’t lie,” Paul smirked. “You hate this club, don’t you? It’s all right to admit it to me. Max loves it, but I don’t see the appeal.”

Two statuesque blondes sauntered past, causing the two men to stare at their minimal clothing and flirtatious smiles.

Carter chuckled. He clinked his bottle against Paul’s. “Where is Max?” he asked, narrowing his eyes toward the dance floor in the hopes of spotting his friend.

“Outside having a smoke,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “With his new friend Laura. He’s shitfaced already, high as a damned kite, yammering on about some deal he’s doing tonight.”

Carter rolled his eyes in frustration. From the snippets he’d heard from the other boys at the shop, since Lizzie had left, Max had lost himself in many women. As much as Max played that he was okay and lived for bedding the females he did, Carter knew he was simply trying to fuck the pain away. With the amount of coke Max was doing, it was clear that the one-night stands weren’t working. Asshole was on a slippery slope.

“He needs to get out of that shit,” Carter muttered.

“No doubt,” Paul agreed. “But he’s not going to listen to either of us, you know that. He’s in too deep. When that bitch left, she took the best parts of him with her.”

Carter knew that Max had hit the blow hard as soon as she’d left. It had been so difficult for Carter stuck in Kill, unable to be there for his friend. “Was it really bad?”

Paul sighed. “Yeah. Tried to act as if he wasn’t dying on the inside after losing his woman so soon after losing the baby. Pretended he was all right while he shoved that shit up his nose.” Paul sipped from his beer. “I’m just waiting for something to happen, for shit to hit the fan and—”

“I won’t let anything happen,” Carter snapped.

Paul smiled knowingly. “I know, man.” He clapped Carter’s shoulder. “I know. But you and I can’t always be there for him. He’s a grown man and a law unto himself. I worry.”

Carter knew what Paul meant. Despite their friendship of nearly twenty years, Max would do what he wanted, no matter the consequences. His stubbornness was what the two men argued about most. His best friend was broken, that shit was clear as day, but Carter had no idea how to fix him, or even if he could.

Carter and Paul stood watching the dance floor writhe and bounce. “Sidebar: it’s about time we found you a woman, Carter.” Paul nodded toward a group of women grinding and dipping to the beat.

“Come on, man.” Carter sighed. “I don’t need a woman.”

“Why?”

“Because women are hard work and fucking trouble. I have enough of that with Max.”

Besides, he didn’t want just any woman. He wanted one very specific woman.

Laughing in agreement, Paul set down another two drinks on the bar. Carter grabbed eagerly at the Jack and Coke and took half of that shit down in one. Yep. That was what he needed. He needed to stop thinking about his Peaches and nut up. He needed to stop obsessing, worrying, fantasizing—

Carter paused with the glass at his lips and blinked twice. Jesus. Was he hallucinating now? He almost broke his neck trying to see—over and around the writhing rhythmic bodies—the auburn-haired woman dancing about thirty feet away from him.

Holy. Mother. Of. God.

It was Peaches.

And fuck him running if she wasn’t wearing the sexiest dress he’d ever seen. It was black and silk and dipped so low at the back he could almost see the dimples above her ass. Shit. And a bare back meant only one thing.

No bra.

His cock, immediately hard, started biting through the buttons on his fly to get at her, while his heart thumped like a damn hammer. Her body moved like water: graceful and flowing effortlessly. Her hair was up in a twist that was sexy and elegant and the heels she wore would have looked amazing … on Carter’s shoulders.

He swallowed and smiled as she dipped and mimed the words to the song. Her hands moved against her hips, causing jealousy to burst through Carter’s body. It should have been his hands, his fingers gripping her tightly. He managed to drag his eyes from her to see she was ostensibly dancing with a small blonde girl who was wrapped around some dude with a mohawk. She was cute, but Peaches was sex. No, scratch that. More like hot, raw, up-against-the-wall fucking, and Carter immediately wanted all over that shit.

And apparently so did the guy standing five feet to Peaches’ left.

A growl built somewhere deep and dark within Carter’s chest and his hands balled into fists when the asswipe walked toward her, fiddling with his hair as he did.

Before he could consider his actions, Carter was pushing away from the bar, leaving Paul shouting at his back. He shoved his way through the crowd toward Peaches and the prick who clearly didn’t like his head on his goddamn shoulders. Carter had never been so protective about anything in his life, and the adrenaline that coursed through him was a thing of beauty.