Page 9 of Too Late

She grins and begins to lower her head when I hear the footsteps. Then the bedroom doorknob makes an unsuccessful turn.

Fuck.

“Asa, open the door!” Sloan says from outside the room.

“Fuck!” I shove Jess onto her back. I stand up and grab my pants, pulling them on as Jess looks back and forth between the door and me. I pick up her dress and throw it toward the closet, pointing for her to go hide.

She stands up and looks insulted, shaking her head.

If she thinks she’s about to walk out of this room with Sloan on the other side of the door, she’s delusional. I grab her by the shoulders and shove her toward the closet.

“Just for a few minutes,” I whisper. I try to sound sweet, but there’s nothing sweet about this moment. She knows that, so she starts to object by hissing my name.

If this bitch lets Sloan know she’s in here, she’ll ruin everything for me. I feel the rage beginning to bubble. I drop the sweet act and lean in closer, gripping her jaw. “If you make a noise, you’re going to regret it, sweetheart.” I squeeze her jaw until her eyes widen and she finally nods, just as Sloan beats on the door for a second time.

When I’m certain she understands, I force a fake smile. “Two minutes, Jess,” I whisper. “I’ll get rid of her.” I close the closet door, grab a T-shirt off the floor, and then I wipe the stench of Jess off my hands and mouth. I walk to the bedroom door and open it.

“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, why are you asleep?” Sloan shoves past me. She’s heading toward the closet, so I grab her by the waist and pull her down onto the bed. She sighs reluctantly when I smile down at her, silently begging for her forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I had class all day. I’m tired.” I can’t even remember the last time I went to class, but I’m hoping the lie will ease her resolve.

It does.

She relaxes and curls into my chest. “You actually went to class today?”

I nod and bring my hands to her face, wiping a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. I tuck it behind her ear and then roll her onto her back and hover over her. The distinct bruises on her arms catch my eye, and it reminds me that I never did apologize for that incident in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I went to class,” I lie, running my fingers down her arm, over the marks I left on her. “I’m taking it seriously, Sloan. Everything I’ve promised you. I want to make it better.” I bend down and kiss the fingertip bruises. “Sometimes I forget how fragile your skin is.”

She presses her lips into a thin line and swallows. I can tell she’s trying not to cry. This is going to take a little more work than I thought. She’s still upset with me.

“I swear to you, I’ll make it better. I’ll make it better for both of us, okay?” I take both of her cheeks between the palms of my hands and I kiss her deeply. I know a girl likes it when a guy holds her face while he kisses her; like kissing is his only intention.

It’s bullshit. If guys had their way, their hands would never venture above the tits.

“I love you,” I say again as I glide my hand down to her waist. My dick swells in my pants, getting a hell of a lot harder than Jon’s whore in the closet could get it.

As many girls as I’ve been with, I can honestly say Sloan turns me on more than any of them. I don’t know what it is about her that I find so much more attractive than the rest of them. Her tits aren’t that big and she’s not even that curvy.

I think it’s her innocence. I like knowing I’m the first and only guy who’s ever fucked her. I like knowing I’ll be the only guy who’lleverfuck her.

I slide my hand underneath Sloan’s shirt and pull the lace of her bra down. “Let me make it up to you,” I whisper. I press my mouth to the thin layer of shirt covering her nipple, and I take it between my lips. She moans and arches her back, but then she pushes against my chest.

“Asa, I just left the gym. I’m all sweaty. Let me take a shower first.”

I release her nipple from my mouth when she offers to leave the room. That’ll give me space to get rid of what’s-her-name. “Go shower. We’re going out tonight.”

She smiles. “We are? Like on a date?”

“Notlikea date. Itisa date.”

She grins and hops off me, heading toward the door.

“Lock it on your way out,” I say.

“Why?”

I grab the bulge in my pants. “I need to finish what you started.”

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