Page 121 of Debts and Desires
“Carter, stop! Stop, you’ll kill him!”
“Good.” He snorted, then spit on Jed, making him flinch beneath all that blood.
All that blood… Oh God, please. Please forgive Carter. Don’t let him be a murderer.
“No. Not good. Just like I said at the bar, Carter. I can’t lose you. Please. Please, he’s not worth it.” Carter wasn’t listening. He went to reach for the semi-conscious man again. I pushed on him once more.
“Take me home,” I pleaded. “Please take me home, Carter.” Finally, his eyes met mine, the fire slowly snuffing out, reigniting with something else. The rise and fall of his chest began to even out. “Please, baby. I wanna go home.” Carter swallowed, then nodded. I made the mistake of letting up. I couldn’t stop Carter as he grabbed Jed by the collar.
“Youevercome ‘round my girl again. I’ll make sure you eatyour meals through a fuckin’ straw. You hear me? Better yet, I really will just fuckin’ kill ya.” He let Jed fall with a hardthud.
Then Carter turned his still smoldering gaze on me. He walked toward me, grabbing me by the elbow. His grasp was rough, not enough to hurt, but enough to get my attention.
“Why don’t you ever fuckin’ listen?” He gritted at me, his chest still heaving as he pretty much dragged me out to the truck. Mac poked his head up at seeing us, but quickly laid back down as if he knew his master was on a warpath.
“If I didn’t stop you, you would have killed him,” I said as he picked me up like I was weightless, all but throwing me in my seat.
“And you should’ve let me!” he shouted, shutting the door with force, then walking around the front of the vehicle. When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he slammed his door, too. The impact shaking the whole vehicle. I sunk into myself a little, scared. Carter drove off without buckling himself, driving just as crazy as he had before.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it since I realized he had a lot of anger toward Jed, anger that I didn’t understand. What else was behind it? About a trillion thoughts swarmed me, making connections.
“How do you know Jed?” I asked. Carter didn’t answer for a long while, his jaw clenching as he turned down Main Street. I didn’t think he heard me and decided to just let it go. Finally he spoke, and the words sending adrenaline throughout me again.
“The Reverend Black is my father.”
47. NOT GOING ANYWHERE
November 8
Day Seventy-Three
“Are you okay?” I asked softly. Carter didn’t respond. I could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. His now bloodied knuckles gripped the steering wheel tight again. Mac was sitting between us, his head resting on my thigh. I reached over, carefully touching Carter’s arm. “Carter?” He jerked away from my touch.
As we passed his garage, I swallowed. Would he make me pack and leave, anyway?
I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t.
The midday sun beat down on us as we drove in silence. The gravel crunched beneath the tires as we turned onto the long driveway leading to the farmhouse. It was a beautiful old house that I had come to love. I didn’t want to go.
Carter parked the truck. His expression was hard to read. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and got out, slamming the door behind him. He then came to my side of the truck, opening my door like normal. He still looked angry. I slid out of the seat carefully, standing in front of him. Carter held the door as he barked out, “Mac, porch.”
Mac wasted no time putting distance between us, taking his place on the porch.
I didn’t move from where I was standing, looking up at Carter. He slammed the truck door shut, making me gasp and jump again. My lip wobbled.
“I don’t want to leave,” I whispered. His eyes met mine. The sun hit the whiskey color just enough that it looked like hellfire. The browns, golds, and oranges dancing in the light.
Carter pushed me up against the side of his truck, his mouth on mine. He kissed me like a man starved, and despite being confused, I couldn’t get enough. His hands were everywhere, my ass, my neck, my tits, all while he kept grinding against me. His touch, much like his eyes, was pure heat. He pulled away from laying claim to my mouth just long enough to say, “I need to be in you. Now,” before going back in for more.
I moaned into his mouth as he lifted me up, wrapping my legs around him. He held me with one arm under my thighs, the other hand undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans. He then grabbed my underwear, pulling them aside until they snapped against my skin. The discarded fabric floated to our feet.
Carter grabbed his dick, stroking himself once before guiding it to my entrance. I arched my hips forward, desperate to feel him inside me.
“Fuck, Buttercup,” he breathed out when he slid home. “Already so wet.” I tightened my legs around him, digging my heels into his ass. Carter groaned at the sensation, thrusting deeper into me. We both needed this, it seemed.
“Harder,” I pleaded. He growled in response, fucking me harder and faster. My head fell back against the window of the truck, hitting it hard. The pain didn’t register, though; all I felt was pleasure. His grip was bruising, burning. I felt his touch, his kisses, his bites all over.
If Carter was the devil, I’d gladly burn in hell.
