A Pound of Flesh

by Jackson, Sophie

  She grabbed at his neck.

  “I need you so badly,” he continued, breathlessly. “I need us. I need to feel us like this, because I swear to God, my heart, it beats only for you.”

  She squeezed his hands and kissed his neck. Their foreheads fused together and he lost himself in her heavy lidded eyes. He continued to move, slow but firm, tilting his pelvis so he reached the spot inside of her that made her breath catch. A small tightening began deep in the depths of his stomach. He gave a sharp thrust and gripped her hip harder than he probably should have. He grunted when she licked his jaw, nibbling on his Adam’s apple in reply.

  She held him close, arms around shoulders, holding tight. Never had Carter been so close to her. She was all around him, and he was at her mercy, defeated but entirely victorious. But, above all, above his need to come and his slow descent into euphoric bliss, Carter felt totally and unequivocally loved. The sensation wrapped around him in the same way Kat was, warm and safe, and it crushed him in ways that were entirely fantastic and impossible to describe.

  It was the weirdest, most incredible thing.

  It was so much more than making love.

  It was erotic, passionate, naked, soul bearing—which ordinarily would have terrified Carter.

  But not now. Not with his woman in his arms. With Kat, he could take over the fucking world.

  Never had Carter been so exposed but so safe.

  Never had he given himself to someone so freely and expected nothing in return.

  His body lifted higher and higher. “I can’t get close enough,” he confessed with a frustrated growl. He pushed harder and harder, gritting his teeth and making sounds entirely alien to him, quickly being pulled under. He held on tighter. “I’m coming. Kat.”

  Carter’s neck snapped back and he shouted and cursed. His cock pulsed with blinding force, as his orgasm ricocheted through him—leaving flashes of white behind his eyes and thundering in his ears—pulsing, hot, and relentlessly hard, into her body. He snarled into her shoulder while his entire body throbbed, writhed, and twitched.

  He breathed easier. He felt free. He felt good. Could he dare to believe he was good enough?

  Carter clenched his eyes shut, fighting back the salt water threatening to fall, overwhelmed once again by the woman in his arms, overwhelmed by what he’d shared with her, what they’d shared together. He kissed her collarbone and breathed through it. Carter’s body shivered. He buried his face under her jaw and removed his sated cock from her warmth, cocooning himself within her arms and legs, the only sound being Kat’s heart echoing in his ear.

  His heart beat back in reply.

  I love you, it thrummed. I’m yours, but please, for the love of God, don’t break me.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for forgiving me. For loving me. I don’t deserve any of it, Peaches.” He held her close. “Thank you.”

  Kat murmured sleepily by his forehead, “I guess that makes us even.”

  Carter closed his eyes. He knew that wasn’t true. As hard as his time away from Kat had been, Carter had had a lot of time to consider his options, and the one option that was simply impossible to comprehend was the one that saw them separated permanently.

  He would not, could not walk away. He’d tried and it had crushed him.

  Which left only one option.

  He lifted his head and brushed her hair from her sleeping face. “Peaches.”

  “Mmm.”

  He drew an invisible circle under her lashes and across the flush of her cheek, considering his next words. There was no use in denying it anymore. He was responsible for the animosity between Kat and her mother. Of course, Eva hadn’t given him a chance and would no doubt laugh in his face should he try to explain his feelings for her daughter; nonetheless, Kat had already lost one parent, and he didn’t want her to lose another.

  “We have to do something—something important—before we fly back to New York tomorrow. I have to do something.”

  She snuggled into him. “Yeah?”

  Carter cleared his throat. “I need to talk to your mom.”

  ·  ·  ·

  Austin Ford paced like a caged lion in his office, gritting his teeth so hard Adam was convinced they would shatter. Hell, it would match the four-thousand-dollar vase that lay in a million pieces at their feet. Following Ben Thomas’s impromptu visit, the much-anticipated fax had come through from the WCS board. Its message was clear: Pack up your shit, boys. Your presence at WCS is no longer required.

  Adam, for one, hadn’t been surprised, and, in many ways, it had come as a huge relief. For too long he had followed his brother through the valleys of aggressive mergers and bullying acquisitions. He’d stood back and watched in humiliated and embarrassed silence as Austin bartered and harassed people and businesses for his own gains.

  Yes, he was one hell of an executive and he had made himself and those around him exceedingly rich. But over the years, he’d grown cocky. His manner was less genteel and more arrogant, and the wry smile of disappointment had now become a sneer of disgust that anyone would dare to refuse or stand up to him.

  Nevertheless, Wes Carter had done just that.

  Despite it being Thanksgiving week, Austin had put every lawyer and favor he had at his disposal on the fax the minute it slid through the machine. He wanted to find a loophole, a lose end, a clause, a fuck-you. He needed to find one. Adam knew that Austin would rather die than let Carter take over WCS, but that was exactly what was happening. There was no way around it, and one of Austin’s cronies had delivered the news.

  The vase had been the first casualty.

  Adam watched his brother continue his furious journey around the office.

  “You’re telling me,” Austin growled, “that there is no way to stop this?” His index finger smacked against the desk, pressing down hard into the fax.

  Rick, his consultant, shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”

  Austin’s eyes grew impossibly wider. Adam had never seen his brother look so unkempt. His hair was ruffled and a light sheen of sweat covered his cheeks and forehead.

  “I don’t fucking believe this!” he bellowed. “How is this even possible?”

  “Well, sir—”

  “Don’t answer me when I ask rhetorical questions, Rick!” Austin snapped angrily. “I can fucking read!”

  Austin exhaled heavily and rubbed a palm over his mouth. “I thought we did everything in our power to cover this up.” He gestured toward the black-and-white photographs Ben Thomas had left. “I was told that things were in place to keep my company safe.”

  Adam’s anger surged. And not for the first time. Austin had always considered WCS his. In all the time he’d been in charge, Austin had never once acknowledged Adam’s help or the work he did to keep him clean of all the shit he got into. Of course, there were the obligatory raises and single-malt gestures that would show up on his desk every once in a while, but neither made up for the amount of times that Adam had paid or bartered with people in order to keep his brother’s indiscretion’s off the board’s radar, his dealings with Casari included. Adam had told him Casari was bad news, he knew he was watched by the Feds, but his brother hadn’t listened.

  Enough was enough.

  The crunch, for Adam, was when it became a pissing contest over Kat, with Carter on one side and Austin on the other. It was pathetic, and Adam had wanted no part of it. He genuinely couldn’t understand why Austin wouldn’t just let Carter have his share of the pie. It would simplify things, keep Carter quiet. But Austin had had other ideas.

  The photographs with Casari were all Austin’s doing, and Adam had reached his limit.

  Shit, everyone made mistakes, for Christ’s sake, and it wasn’t fair to keep Carter reliving his over and over. Kat was, as Beth had conceded, very much in love with Carter. The guy had a real chance at turning his life around and being happy.

  Adam couldn’t stop that from happening. And neither could
Austin.

  “Austin,” Adam muttered. The other five men in the room shuffled and fidgeted.

  “No, Adam,” Austin barked back. “We need to figure this out, work out the next step.”

  Adam blinked in confusion and caught Rick’s equally bewildered eye. Sighing, Adam took a cautious step toward his brother and clasped his hands at his front.

  “There is no next step,” he said quietly. “This is concrete. This is happening.”

  Austin’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is this?” he asked in disbelief. “Have you all lost your balls?” He eyed each man menacingly, finally coming back to Adam. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

  Adam rolled his eyes and pushed his hands into his pockets. “It is over. It’s been over for a long time. It’s time to move on.”

  The look of absolute fury on Austin’s face surprised even Adam. He tightened his fists at his side and dropped his chin. “Everyone out!”

  Adam watched the staff scuttle out, closing the door firmly behind them. The room was oppressively silent for the thirty seconds it took Austin to reign himself in. He was furious, Adam knew, but honestly, he couldn’t have cared less.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Austin murmured through tight lips.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing standing there shrugging? Do you not understand what this means?” He held up the fax and shook it.

  “I know exactly what it means,” he answered calmly. He took another step toward his brother. “It means that you and I each get a settlement that will ensure we never have to worry about money again, and Carter gets what’s rightfully his.”

  Austin blanched. “I beg your pardon?”

  Adam shook his head. “Oh, come on, Austin. Let it go. This is how it’s meant to be! He’s the rightful owner; it was written in black and white all those years ago. He deserves to have it back and not coveted by you!”

  Austin lunged at Adam, but Adam was faster. It wasn’t always so, but age brought a strength that he didn’t have when they were kids. He pushed Austin away until his back was against the wall.

  “Back the fuck off, Austin,” Adam growled with a pointed finger in his face. “I am not six, and this company is not your goddamn G.I. Joe. Face the fact that, this time, your dirty little bastards couldn’t get you out of this and move on with your dignity and name intact.” He pulled back and adjusted his jacket. “Jesus, man, get a grip. You’re losing it.”

  Austin swallowed. His face was beet red, his eyes wild.

  Adam shook his head. “What happened, Austin?” he asked sadly. “I fucking defended you. I turned Beth against her best friend for you! I’ll never forgive myself for that. Christ, man. I mean, this isn’t you.”

  “This is me,” he countered. “This is me keeping this company alive before some coke-headed fuckup drags it back to the gutter he came from.”

  Adam glared in disgust. “Like you’re so fucking perfect.” He chuckled without humor. “How can you be so self-righteous when you do the things you do?”

  Austin’s back straightened and a glimmer of caution appeared in his eye.

  “Yeah,” Adam whispered, glancing down at the photographs. “I’m sure the board would be interested to know who else you do business with. I don’t need photographs to prove the shit I know.”

  Austin gave a wry smile. “You son of a bitch.”

  “Maybe,” Adam countered darkly. “But I’m telling you: let this go, Austin. Walk away with your head held high. Forget Carter, forget Kat; take your stocks, buy a house, or go on a long vacation to butt-fuck nowhere, but walk away, or so help me.”

  Adam turned slowly from his brother, adjusting his tie as he did.

  “Well, hell, Ads,” Austin said. “That sounds like a threat.”

  Stopping, Adam looked back over his shoulder. “No threat,” he answered before he walked toward the office door. With his fingers on the handle he continued, “It’s a promise.”

  ·  ·  ·

  The tension in the car as Kat drove it back to Nana Boo’s was thick, much like the snow that lay like a blanket all over the city. Carter stopped tapping his foot against the car floor and cracked his knuckles, in hopes that the tension that had set his spine poker straight would somehow ease. He was utterly exhausted. It hadn’t been helped by the fact that he was running on seven hours of sleep over the past forty-eight hours. He closed his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  Carter kept his eyes closed, quirking an eyebrow in sardonic response. Like an asshole, he had no words of comfort for her even though he knew that Kat needed them from him badly. She silently craved assurance and support. He simply didn’t know how to give it to her. He settled for placing his hand on her leg.

  Contact was good.

  He could tell from the tremor in her voice she was as nervous as he was about the upcoming conversation with Eva, and rightly so. Even though he had gone over and over in his head what he wanted to say, Carter knew he was walking straight into the lion’s den, vulnerable and scared shitless.

  He just had to make sure he didn’t let Kat’s mother control the discussion—if that was the appropriate word for it. Hell, it would be a heated one at the very least. He had to keep his head and allow her to have her say. That shit was vitally important. Carter was under no illusions; he understood why Eva behaved the way she did.

  It was all about convincing Eva he loved Kat with his whole heart, that he would do anything for her, be anything for her. She was safe with him. He would protect her and cherish her until his last breath.

  Hopefully, it would be enough. Jesus Christ, he hoped it would be enough.

  If he could make Kat’s mother see he wasn’t all about the length of his criminal record, and that mistakes don’t define a man, then he would be on the home stretch. Goddammit, he was a wreck. He wondered fleetingly if he would have time to have a smoke before battle commenced.

  “We’re here,” Kat murmured, turning off the car engine.

  Apparently not.

  Carter swallowed and opened his eyes. “Peaches.”

  “Carter.”

  They spoke at the same time, nervous and quiet. Carter turned to her with a wry smile.

  “Go on,” he offered.

  “No,” she insisted with a shake of her head. “Please, what were you going to say?”

  What was he going to say? He had no idea whether her name had escaped him simply because the sound of it and the knowledge she was close by comforted him more than he could express. Carter picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a courtly kiss in her palm.

  He sighed. “Whatever she says, whatever she calls me or accuses me of. Whatever happens, I want you to promise me that you won’t say anything.”

  Kat’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  If he was going to do this, he had to do it alone. What kind of mother wanted to see the man who loved her daughter as a weak, incapable prick? The last thing he wanted was for Kat to defend him. He was determined to fight this one on his own.

  “I can’t promise that, Carter.”

  “Please. I need you to do this for me.”

  Fire sparked in her eyes. “If she says—”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Carter said firmly, interrupting her. “Look at me. I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed the back of his fingers down the side of her face. “I swear to you. Do you trust me?”

  She nodded. “But I’m terrified.”

  “I know,” Carter whispered. He kissed her fingertips.

  “I’ll try and keep my mouth shut,” she said with conviction. “But if she starts, so will I.”

  It was as much as he could hope for.

  Standing on Nana Boo’s porch waiting for someone to open the damned door, Carter clutched Kat’s hand like a drowning man. He knew he was drawing all of his strength from her, but that was fine. When her small fingers tightened
around his, he knew she was doing the same thing.

  The sound of a dead bolt sliding home made his neck tingle and his throat dry.

  Go big or go home, right?

  Trevor opened the door with a wide, gracious smile as Reggie wagged his tail heartily at his side. “Miss Katherine. Mr. Carter. How nice to see you again. Please come in.”

  Kat smiled, but Carter could do little more than grimace. He literally had to pull his feet from the floor so he could walk forward. It was just his luck: the confidence and determination that had filled his body the day before had all but disappeared now that he needed it. With a jolt he suddenly felt very, very foolish.

  Kat pulled both of his hands to hers. He pursed his lips and blew a breath of relief, so grateful for her, standing with him, on his side, ready to back him up in any way she could.

  “Happy Thanksgiving!” Nana Boo smiled warmly at Carter and kissed his cheek. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving.” He stood back and fixed her with an apologetic stare. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” Kat’s hand pressed into the small of his back. “I’m an idiot and the last thing I wanted to do was to upset Kat. I mean, I know she’d have been upset,” he mumbled. “I just— I wanted— I’m sorry I left, okay, and . . . yeah.”

  Nana Boo’s face lit with an admiring smile, despite Carter wanting nothing more than the floor to swallow his ass whole. She placed her palm on his arm and rubbed it, coaxing his eyes back to hers. The warmth of her gaze and the tenderness in her touch filled Carter with nostalgic hope and love. For one split second, he was seven years old again.

  “Thank you for the apology. But there really is no need. As long as you and Kat are fine, then I’m happy.”

  “We are fine,” Kat said, moving closer to Carter’s side.

  He could have easily lost himself in Kat’s gorgeous eyes, and he would have done so quite happily had it not been for the unexpected sound of a clearing throat that reverberated around the cavernous lobby like a vicious snarl. Kat’s stare snapped instantly to her right, but Carter kept his front and center, tracing the delicate curve of his Peaches’ face. He didn’t need to look; he knew who it was and what to expect when he did.