A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(100)

Goddammit, he’d tried to be gentle.

She shook her head from side to side, her eyes remaining shut. “You’d never hurt me,” she murmured. “Would you, Carter? I know you’d never hurt me or lie to me. Would you?”

“Never,” he replied, his throat constricting in fear and confusion. “Please look at me.”

She remained quiet, keeping her eyes closed, but the lone tear trickling down her cheek spoke volumes.

“Christ, Katherine,” Carter begged in a voice even he didn’t recognize. “Please talk; you’re scaring the shit out of me.”

At his words, her eyes snapped open. The fire behind them was so fierce, Carter was momentarily dumbstruck.

“What did you call me?”

Carter stared at her, baffled. He shrugged. “I called you Katherine,” he answered in a calm voice. “Why?”

“You never call me that,” she retorted venomously.

“I know, I just … It just came out.”

“Get off me.”

Carter balked. “What?”

“Get. Off. Me!” She wrenched her hands free of his and pushed against him so hard, he landed on his back, bouncing as the bed took his weight.

“What the f*ck?”

But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she grabbed for her hoodie, her hands shaking and her face twisted in anger. Carter watched her, helpless.

“Peaches!” she yelled, pulling on her top. “You always, always, always call me Peaches!”

“I know, but—”

“Only my mother calls me Katherine! My mother. Why tonight, huh? Why did you call me Katherine tonight?” She wasn’t even looking at him while she struggled to fasten her zipper. She seemed close to losing her shit completely.

“I don’t know,” Carter yelled back. He rubbed his face in frustration. “Christ, would you just breathe for a second? What the f*ck is going on?”

Her eyes flew to his, huge and fierce. “What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. I came here for a good, hard f*ck that I thought was a sure thing, and all I get is your damn mouth. That’s what’s going on, Carter!”

Even though her words stung, the fury inside him outweighed any part that hurt. He launched himself off the bed, beating her to the bedroom door, blocking that shit with every inch of himself.

“Get out of my way!” she demanded, moving to his right and trying to push under his arm. She was strong, but Carter wasn’t giving in.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you,” he growled, knowing if he shouted the walls would crumble.

“You are what’s wrong with me.” She pushed again.

He stood firm and, for the first time since they’d entered the bedroom, Carter saw a glimmer of light shine behind her eyes. He’d surprised her.

“Talk to me.”

She moved to his left and pushed. “No!”

“Open your mouth and f*cking speak!”

“No!”

He searched her face, seeing only tears, anger, and a profound sadness. “Why are you here?” he asked with a shake of his head. “Why? Why are you at my apartment, looking like death, after you’ve ignored my ass for two days?”

The force of her pushing dropped and her fingers began to grip into his skin. That shit hurt, but Carter was determined. “Why are you here, wanting me to f*ck you, huh? Is this a game? Am I some sort of sick rehabilitation joke to you?”

She stood up straight and glared at him. “A joke,” she repeated. “My God, Carter. Do you think I find anything about this situation funny?”