Page 30 of My Soul for Sale

It’s not like he can claim it was an accident or misunderstanding.

Oops, I slipped and my cock fell into her pussy.

“We had an argument, she slapped me, and I just snapped.”

“Wha—”

“I don’t know, Atlas!” He slams his hands on his desk. “She was in the kitchen and just seeing her there made me think of Ali and I was an asshole, okay? She slapped me. Which I deserved, and I lost control.”

“She’s not Ali. You can’t punish the daughter for the mother’s sins.”

Why am I the child in this situation but giving my dad life advice? Woman advice, the same woman who’s sleeping in my bed after I just fucked her… again.

“I’ll apologize. She didn’t deserve that,” he mumbles.

My eyebrow quirks. “Are you apologizing for the words or the sex?”

“Atlas,” he warns.

I don’t react, just lean back in the chair and watch him as he eyes me.

“Where is she now?”

“Said she was exhausted. She’s in my bed napping.”

“I’ll order dinner and we can eat together tonight. That work for you?” His head tilts slightly.

“Yup.” I stand, leaving the room and heading back up to my girl.

Little white takeout boxes cover the kitchen table, and I’m about to sit down to enjoy some Chinese with Sloane and my dad

"Think you ordered enough, Dad?" I quip, eyeing the table.

He chuckles, glancing at Sloane. "Well, I didn't know what Sloane liked, so I just got a bit of everything."

Sloane speaks up, her voice soft but confident, "Well, thank you. But I'm not picky."

It took some convincing to get her down here. After she woke up from her nap, we watched a movie and cuddled in bed. When I suggested dinner downstairs with all three of us, she hesitated at first.

It would be weird, she said, and she didn't want to cause any issues between my dad and me. I assured her that there wasn't anything weird between me and her or my dad and her, but that's not what she was worried about. No. It was about my dad and I’s relationship and how she may have strained it.

She's perfect.

Worrying more about everyone else instead of herself.

I dish her up some combination kow, egg rolls, shrimp toast, and crab rangoons, then fix my own plate. At first, there’s a heavy air of awkwardness as we silently eat. Finally, my dad breaks the ice.

"Sloane," he begins, catching her attention in the middle of lifting her fork to her mouth. "I owe you an apology," he continues. "I'm sorry for what I said this morning. It was wrong. I don't know the woman that you are now. But the Sloane I remember was nothing like her mom, and from your reaction, I'm willing to go out on a limb and say you're not now either."

Sloane smiles. "Thank you, Ripley. I'm not sorry I slapped you, though. You deserved it. I'm not a violence-first type of girl, but you pissed me off. I've spent a lot of time avoiding and trying to be nothing like Ali. I haven't even seen her in almost a year."

“So tell us then, Sloane, why were you there last night? Why auction yourself off?” I ask, wanting to know what drove her to sell herself for a weekend.

I’m not mad since it led us back to each other, but it definitely piques my interest.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she mumbles around a mouthful of shrimp toast.

“If you need money or, well, anything for that matter, you can always come to us,” my dad tells her.

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