Page 32 of Carved Obsession

I rise, taking in his clenched jaw, one tensely raised brow, and the feral look in his eyes. My gaze flickers toward the terrace, and I take a small step back, turning to address the whole table.

“Oh, it looks like my food just arrived.” I enthusiastically rub my palms together. “Apologies for interrupting your lunch. It was nice meeting you all. Mr. Pierce...maybe we’ll meet again.”

Without waiting for an answer, I spin on my heels and walk away, a little bounce of glee in my step. A mad giddiness runs rampant through my nerves, and I have to suppress a screech of adrenaline.

A soft gasp leaves my throat as a cool hand wraps around my right wrist. I stop next to a wooden column, shells and dried flower garlands falling in waves around it, as a distinct shadow looms over me. His body feathers against mine, and deep notes of bergamot, lavender, and something different...fresh, but spicy...envelop me. Drown me.

“Pepper . . .” I whisper to myself.

I shove down the little voice inside my head that begs me to lean into him again.

“Good girls don’t make a scene like you just did, kitten.” His growly whisper turns my nerves to bolts of lightning. “There’s no doubt about it and zero choice for you—we will meet again.”

And just as quickly as he appeared behind me, he’s gone. His scent evaporates, but his heat already penetrated my soul.

I’m rather shocked at the amount of words he spoke to me.

I don’t turn to look at him. I’d rather not humor him or feed into his ego. Instead, I hold on to the electrifying sensation peppered over my skin and walk toward the terrace.

I may have a problem—his threats are becoming addictive. Enticingly so.

Chapter 9

Carter

All afternoon and most of the evening, I tried and failed to get Scarlet’s breathy, annoyingly sexy voice out of my head. Her whisper haunts me now. An ethereal chant playing on repeat.

I was a good girl for you . . .

Did she have any fucking clue what those words would do to me? How they would stroke that cold part of me that wants to spread her open, tie her up, and make her beg to become the exact opposite—a very, very bad girl? Just. For. Me.

I must be going mad.

Because even now, as I stare into the distance, unfocused on my surroundings, I’m utterly distracted by her scent. I can’t pry it out of my mind or my senses—roses and lemon. Sweet and aromatically sour.

The soft, fair-skinned woman with eyes the color of dark chocolate isn’t just getting under my skin. She’s tearing her way through. And I’m not putting up enough resistance.

Even when I force my thoughts in a different direction, my mind reels back to the way she looked in that restaurant. Fresh out of the ocean, salty hair falling in beach waves around her shoulders, sun-kissed cheeks with a soft dusting of freckles, not an ounce of makeup covering the soft lines around her eyes.

And that dress . . .

That damn dress that allowed everyone to see her slight curves beneath it, her toned legs that kept fucking going for miles, and lean arms that would look perfect when stretched high above her head, tied at the wrists.

“Boss? Boss?”

Fuck.I return my focus to the room, the sound of the evening clientele at Midnight assaulting my ears all at once.

“Yes, Tina,” I say as she stands by my table, waiting.

“It’s all done. All cars have been checked, history cleaned, and a program was written to never record any similar data in the future.”

“Yours too?”

“Every single person associated with The Sanctum, Midnight, The Fightclub, our army, security, everyone. That includes personal cars,” Tina confirms.

“You’ve done great work on it. That was really fast.”

“With all due respect, your whole team was afraid you were gonna cut us open if we didn’t get this done asap. It was incentive for them all.” She snickers.