A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(129)

But then, where would that leave him? Where would that leave Kat? His ass would be sent back to prison quicker than he could say, Fuck you, Ford. Parole would be a thing of the past. He and Kat would be a thing of the past.

With Herculean effort, and with the image of his Peaches the night before, writhing and begging for him as he f*cked her in his bed, Carter took a huge breath.

“Well, Austin,” he said through clenched teeth, “I’ll be sure to let Kat know you were asking about her.”

Austin was instantly perplexed. Carter turned back toward the door.

“But I wouldn’t hold your breath for that phone call,” Carter added, glaring over his shoulder at his cousin.

“Oh, really?” Austin spat, no longer hiding the aggressive jealousy in his voice. “And why’s that?”

“Well, as you pointed out, she’s busy with her students. And with me”—he glanced down at his own crotch before looking back at Austin with a smug-ass grin on his face—“her hands are always full.”

Without waiting for a response, Carter yanked the office door open, causing the hinges to squeal in protest. The inevitable slam behind him was all that Carter heard as he stormed through the lobby, past the raven-haired bitch at her desk, while lighting a cigarette and flipping a finger at the No Smoking sign above the WCS exit.

*

[page]As the clock struck five after four, Kat found herself alone in the reading room of the library, playing on her newly purchased iPhone. She’d had a free couple of hours between leaving Arthur Kill and her session with Carter, and had managed to make it home to upload all that she needed onto it. She couldn’t live without her music. Not for another day.

She’d been more than a little hesitant about putting the rescued SIM card from her old phone into it, and as the phone began to beep incessantly with missed calls, voice mail messages, e-mails, and texts, she suddenly realized why. She scrolled through them slowly. Beth’s name, her mother’s, Ben’s, Adam’s, Austin’s, and Carter’s all made appearances. After listening to the fifth voice mail from her mother, she deleted the remaining six, not wanting or needing to hear her abhorrence one more time.

The one name she did pause at was Carter’s. He’d sent a number of texts on the days she’d been driving from Chicago back to New York, and each one seemed more frantic than the last. The texts from Beth, on the other hand, were short and succinct:

Call me.

We need to talk.

I’m so sorry.

Kat didn’t allow herself to get mad. Beth wasn’t worth it, and besides, anything she had to say was worth shit at this point.

Austin’s messages, as always, were charming and concerned:

Hey, Kat, hope you’re well. Give me a call.

Kat, Adam called. He and Beth are worried about you. I am, too. Regardless of what they’ve told me, I’m here if you need a friend. X

Thinking of you. Austin. X

“Fuck,” Kat muttered, deleting every one before throwing her cell into her bag.

Despite his omitting his link to Carter, Austin was a polite, handsome, charismatic guy. She’d enjoyed his company and enjoyed the kiss they’d shared. It was … pleasant.

In retrospect, Kat realized that there was never the burning passion with him that she felt every time she was in Carter’s presence. The small flickers of attraction she had for Austin were nothing compared to the all-out inferno that occurred each time Carter touched her, kissed her, f*cked her.

Her insides clenched at the memory of his large, solid body between her thighs, his heavy breaths and moans of more in her ear, his unrelenting hold on her hips, and his exquisite face as he chased and rode every orgasm. God, he was glorious. He’d obliterated every past lover she’d had, leaving her feverish with her want and hungry for more. The aches of pleasure he’d left in the muscles she hadn’t known existed were luscious.