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I like mentally and physically stripping away your will. A pill is cheating.”
“I’m not afraid of sex. I’m afraid of being used and discarded,” I blurt.
Wow, what a cluster-fuck of bad decision-making.
“I used to be a perfectionist,” I announce, figuring I should probably explain my outburst. “Well, thank God you overcame that,” Carter shoots back wryly.
“You’re scared. I’m not gonna get mad at you for getting scared.”
I don’t know why, but his raging asshole side does things to me.
You might not want to admit it, but you liked all my fucking damage. You craved my depravity. You don’t want a good guy, Zoey. You want me.”
“Carter already told me to stay away from you. Turns out, Carter’s not my boss.” Looking at me more pointedly, he says, “Or yours. You broke up. Why does he have any say who you spend time with?”
I love being the place he puts his darkness. I love being the keeper of the secret of who Carter really is. I love him, dammit. I didn’t entirely mean it when the words slipped out that night in a post-orgasmic bliss bubble, but God help me, I do. I love Carter Mahoney, and that means I am well and truly fucked.
