A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(124)

She shook her head. “No,” she replied. “It was exactly like that.” She reopened her eyes.

Carter let his gaze wander from her forehead to her chin, taking in every line and soft edge. He realized that her smile had widened.

“It’s rude to stare,” she chided.

He chuckled at her using his words from earlier that day and rubbed the tip of her nose with his own. “I’m not sorry.” He watched her carefully for a while, looking for any signs of regret. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, about what I told you? About who I am.”

“I’m more than okay.” She pulled his lips to hers and kissed him.

Carter’s eyes closed and he exhaled in contentment. Their tongues touched briefly, tenderly, and Carter’s lips were still moving when she pulled away. His eyes fluttered open to see her gazing adoringly at him. His heart halted for one beat.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, Carter shifted down Kat’s body and rested his ear against her damp chest, smiling when he heard her heart thumping behind her ribs. Her fingers moved leisurely from his shoulders to his scalp. He was almost asleep when he heard her whisper his name.

“Carter?”

“Yeah?”

Her hands stilled. “Thank you.”

He frowned. “What for?”

She didn’t reply or move.

He lifted his head and rested his chin on her sternum. “Sweetheart, what are you thanking me for?”

A lone tear slipped down her temple. She swallowed hard before answering. “For saving my life.”





23


Carter froze, his rough chin resting on her smooth, soft skin. His lips twitched with a response, but, for the life of him, he had no clue what to say. With a soft sigh, he moved back up her body and cupped her face in his hands, resting his weight on his forearms at either side of her head.

“Kat,” he whispered with his nose inches from hers. He waited for her to look at him. “You’re here.” He let his thumb trace her pink cheek and watched the color deepen under his touch. “That’s all that matters.”

There was conflict in her eyes: fear, affection, hurt. Carter felt a sharp twist of unease. He knew she didn’t regret what they’d done. The way she’d held him, ridden him, whispered delicious words into his ear assured him of that. But he was hopelessly aware of the dangers surrounding her because of their actions.

The fact that he cared for Kat would make no difference to how people, her mother specifically, regarded him. He was an ex-con and, as such, was an untrustworthy bottom-feeder. No pretty words or fancy declarations could change that shit. She would never see him as anything else. Her fear and narrow-mindedness would blind her to what he truly felt for her daughter.

Carter’s heart squeezed. He had to pray that whatever the two of them had found together was enough to keep Kat with him for as long as possible. He wanted more with her, from her, and he was willing to step up to get it. She was worth all of the shit that would come his way, and he would be there to protect her as best he could.

Once Kat had been to the bathroom, giving them both a chance to clean up, she crawled back into bed, allowing him to wrap his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She held him snugly around the waist. His palm rubbed across her back in comforting circles while her fingertips danced around his nipple. As new as the sensation was of cuddling a woman in his bed, the familiarity of it with Kat was as warm as the blankets around them.

Carter pressed his lips to her scalp. “Where did you go tonight?”