A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(14)

The group surrounding Kat slowly began to disperse when two officers appeared in the doorway. Kat took another shaky breath and rubbed her drenched palms down her trousers. She cleared her throat and turned to her boss.

“Nothing to worry about, Mr. Ward. Just a differing of opinion. As you can see, they’re all fine now. Aren’t you, Corey?” She leveled a look at him that demanded obedience.

He nodded sharply, still glaring at the back of Jason’s head.

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Ward eyed the room, throwing a pointed stare at each inmate until he was seemingly satisfied that they were under control. “I’d like to bring in your new student.” He turned his head toward the door. “Carter?”

*

Carter had been standing in the corridor with Officer West, grinning and listening to Ward try to assert what piss-ass authority he thought he had. He pushed from his place against the wall and wandered into the room, dragging his feet with every step.

The first thing he noticed was Riley across the room, acknowledging him with a nod and a smirk. He then glanced casually at the others in the class, trying to discern where he came in the pecking order. He was almost always at the top, but he made it a point to check first.

[page]In this case, Riley dominated. Just.

He sneered when he took in the other faces. Jason could be cocky, but he knew his place and Sam was as quiet as a mouse. No problems there. Corey Reed, however, was a pain in the ass. Carter glared and smiled when he slumped down into his seat. An annoyed feminine cough pulled him from his visual tormenting of the little bastard.

He turned toward the origin of the noise, finding the delectable Miss Lane, arms crossed over her ample chest, eyeing him in a way that made his hackles rise. She, like every other person not in coveralls, thought she was better than he was. He didn’t have to be a mind reader to know it. She may have hidden it well behind her sexy blouse and heels, but she was just like them. They were all the f*cking same.

He shifted his weight casually onto his right foot and stared right back at her.

“Carter, this is Miss Lane. Miss Lane, this is Wes Carter,” Ward explained.

“Just Carter,” he spat, keeping his glare firmly on his new tutor. Ward knew better than to use his first name, for Christ’s sake.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Carter,” Miss Lane offered.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You can take a seat.” She gestured to a desk and chair behind him.

Carter ignored her, surveying his surroundings.

“Take a seat, Carter,” she ordered.

His stare snapped to her. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line, almost daring him to defy her. Game on. His eyes wandered lazily down her body. Hot. Curvy in all the right places, with an ass that would look spectacular with his hands all over it. He smirked at that particular image.

Carter was tall, at least six-two, and broad-chested. He towered a good nine inches over her and carried at least seventy pounds more than was on her feminine frame, yet the feisty redhead stood firm, not moving an inch, meeting him glower to glare. If her stick-up-the-ass, bitchy attitude hadn’t riled him so much, he might have stopped to consider how turned on he was by it.

Damn.

“Here, Carter.” It was Rachel’s voice, which broke the strange electric mood enveloping the room. She motioned to the seat closest to him.

Carter, as loath as he was to break his gaze with his tutor, took a deep breath, and moved toward the seat. The air shuddered out of him when his blue irises dropped from Miss Lane’s wide green ones, which flickered with fire.