A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(31)



Kat laughed. “Thank you.”

“Would you give a … a character reference in front of the board? You know, help me get some extra points by telling them how awesome a f*cker I really am?”

Kat had received a request for a written character reference that morning from a very agitated Anthony Ward. It seemed he still got all sorts of uppity when his inmates were granted their freedom. Asshole.

Kat squeezed Riley’s forearm. “I’d be honored to.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” she replied before he clutched her to his mammoth chest, almost suffocating her .

“Fucking A, Miss L!” he cried, hugging her hard.

*

Kat hurried down the corridor toward the session room, late but excited. She was more than a little eager to get stuck in Carter’s mind again. She’d been struck dumb by the knowledge Carter had shown in their first session. She’d known he was intelligent. She’d read it in his file, but Christ. He was something else. The man was intelligent and educated in an extraordinarily seductive way.

She smiled at the guard on the door and walked in, seeing Carter standing in the far corner of the room, fisting his hands together with a droopy, almost finished cigarette dangling from his lips. His face was hard and became even harder when he looked at her. He yanked the cigarette from his lips, causing ash to fall to the floor.

“Oh,” he sneered. “And here was me, thinking you were too f*cking busy to keep an appointment.”

Kat slowly placed her bag on the table. She held her tongue, remembering Rachel’s words about routine being vitally important to the inmates.

“I’m sorry,” she said. He strode across the room from one side to the other, his long legs eating up the small space over and over. “I was talking to Riley after class and then I met Jack on the way here and—”

“What?” Carter yelled, making the guard by the door reach a hand to the baton on his waistband.

“What?” she echoed calmly.

“And what the f*ck did he say to you, huh?” Carter bellowed, taking a giant step toward her.

Kat crossed her arms, standing firm against the untamed wrath on his face.

“We just talked about your parole officer coming next week,” she replied. “He wants me to talk to her about our sessions. He thinks it’ll help your application if I’m involved directly.”

She watched the ire in his eyes dim and his strong, large chest began to slow. He swallowed hard and Kat stared at his Adam’s apple bobbing at the front of his throat. She shook her head free of the inappropriate thoughts entering it. Not least, the one where her tongue traveled the length of the black neck tattoo that was teasing her mercilessly. She wondered how far down his body it went …

[page]She refocused. “Carter, I apologize. I’m here now, so we can get to work.” She dropped her arms to her sides, trying to appear nondefensive, and gestured to the chair by the table.

Carter ran a hand down his face and finally moved to his chair, where he sat slowly and extinguished his cigarette. “So, what exciting shit have you got for me today, Miss Lane? Because, I have to tell you, I’m on the edge of my seat in anticipation.”

“We’re staying with Tichborne for now,” she replied, ignoring his sarcasm. “I wanted to go over the work you did for me yesterday.”

“Great,” Carter responded dryly, pulling another smoke from his pocket.

While Kat moved her chair to his side of the table, he clicked at the guard to bring him a match, which he did. Carter inhaled the smoke deeply before starting to exhale but stopped abruptly when he noticed she was so close. He stared at her as she sat down, crossed her legs, and began sorting through papers.

Sophie Jackson's Books