TOO LATE : CHAPTER 21 – 30
Chapter 22
ASA POV CON’TD
I’m still thirsty.
I stretch out my arms and accidentally h!t Sloan in the shoulder. I glance over at her, but my head is too groggy to focus. She rustles a little, but she doesn’t wake up. I look at the alarm clock and squint. It’s 4:30am. She still has two hours before she has to get up and get ready for school.
I give myself a minute to adjust to the darkness until I can see her really well. Then I roll onto my side and watch her sleep.
She sleeps on her back now. Never on her side, never on her stomach. When I was a kid, my dad always slept on his back, even when he’d pass out on the couch from whatever substance he was abusing that day.
I asked him why he slept like that once and he said, “When you’re on your back, you’re prepared for anything. It’s easier to wake up and protect yourself. If you get too comfortable, you’re left off guard.”
It makes me wonder if Sloan sleeps on her back as a protective method. Then it makes me wonder if she sleeps on her back to protect herself from me.
No. She doesn’t fear me like that. She worships me.
She used to sleep on her stomach, though. Maybe I just need to buy a new mattress. Maybe she just doesn’t like this bed.
She also used to sleep nked, but she hasn’t done that in over a year. She claims it’s because there are too many people in this house and she doesn’t feel comfortable.
It used to bother me when I’d crawl on top of her at night, only to find she was wearing pajamas and I couldn’t slide inside of her until after I got them off of her.
After complaining enough, she finally compromised and only sleeps in a t-shirt now. Easier access, but I’d still rather her be nked.
I pull the covers down, careful not to wake her. Sometimes I just like to look at her while she sleeps. I like to think she’s dreaming about me. Sometimes I touch her, just soft enough not to wake her, but enough to make her m©an in her sleep.
Her t-shirt is bunched up around her waist. I lift it, slowly, inch by inch until her bbs are exposed.
She’s so beautiful. All that long dark hair. Those lashes. That mouth. I’ve honestly never seen another girl as beautiful as her in real life.
I knew she’d be mine the first time I laid eyes on her. I couldn’t allow something this perfect to be with anyone else.
But I wouldn’t allow myself to pursue her right away, because I liked the way she looked at me. I could see the innocence in her eyes as she would stare at me in class.
I made her curious. And even though I pretended not to notice her, she made me curious. I could tell she was different from any girl I’d ever been with.
Nothing scares me-not since I was a kid. But the way I obsessed over the thought of her came pretty damn close to scary. The thought of being able to corrupt something that sweet made me think about her more than anything else in my life.
Before Sloan, I wasn’t the type of guy that loved girls. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. I used them for what the majority of them are good for. A quick late night fk, sometimes a pre-breakfast fk, but never anything after 8am or before 8pm. Guys who allow girls in their life between the hours of 8am and 8pm have sht for brains.
That’s a direct quote from my father.
I used to remind myself of this every time I’d look at Sloan, before she was mine. Every time I’d catch her staring at me in class. Every time my dick would jerk in my pants when I thought about her.
Sht for brains.
The more I observed her, the more I started to question my father and whether or not he even knew what the hell he was talking about when I was younger.
He probably never experienced a girl like Sloan. A girl who had yet to be corrupted by another man. A girl who was too timid to know how to flirt with a guy. A girl who hadn’t had the chance to become a wh’re yet.
I told myself I’d test her out. See if she was the exception to the rule. I caught up with her after class one day and asked her if she wanted to go to lunch. It was the first time I’d ever asked a girl on a date, come to think of it. I expected her to smile and shyly agree, but instead she looked me over, turned away and kept walking.
That’s when I realized I was wrong about her. She wasn’t shy. She wasn’t unfamiliar with how cruel people could be. She knew exactly how cruel the world was and that’s why she kept her distance from everyone.
Little did she know, her fake disinterest made me want her even more. It made me want to pursue her until she wanted every part of me…even the cruelty. It made me want her to beg for it.
It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. It’s amazing how far good looks and humor can get you.
And…manners. Who knew?
You hold a door open for a girl, she automatically thinks you’re a gentlemen. She thinks you’re the type of guy who would treat his mother like a queen. Girls see guys with manners and think there’s no way they could be dangerous.
I held every door open for Sloan that I could find.
I even held an umbrella for her once.
That was a long time ago, though. That was back when she used to sleep on her stomach. Naked.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s not as happy as she used to be. She left me once and I hated it. Every second she was gone, I felt like I had turned into every single thing my father feared I’d grow up to be. A love-sick fool. Sht for brains.
But I do love her. Fk him and his bllsht philosophies on love. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and when she left me, I knew that.
I knew if she left for good, she’d eventually find someone else. I couldn’t bear the thought of another man’s mouth on hers. His hands on her.
And I did what I needed to do to get her back-even if she doesn’t realize it had anything to do with me. I did it for her benefit-because I love her. And I know she loves me.
When she came back to me and asked for my help, it was the proudest I’ve ever been of myself. Because I knew at that point it was a done deal. She was mine forever.
But there’s still that one tiny flaw in our relationship that makes me question the permanence of it. She refuses to accept my lifestyle-always makes me promise her I’ll get out someday. We both know that’ll never happen, though. I’m good at what I do. But I guess maybe I need to prove to her that I can do both. Be what she needs without it compromising my lifestyle.
I need to ensure she never goes anywhere. I need to make her part of my life permanently.
I could marry her. I could buy her a house-one where just the two of us lived. Of course I’d be in this house between the hours of 8am and 8pm, since I seem to be the only one who knows how to properly operate things around here.
But Sloan could be at the home we would share together, growing babies. When I came home at night, she could feed me, we’d make love, I’d sleep with her by my side. And she’d sleep on her stomach.
I’ve never thought about marriage before. I wonder why this brilliant idea is just now coming to me?
She’s never brought up marriage, though. I’m not even sure she’d agree to it. But if she got pregnant, she wouldn’t have a choice. Unfortunately, she uses birth control with more routine than I get my dick sucked.
Not that her birth control isn’t something I couldn’t tamper with. But on top of that, she also forces me to use a gddmn cd every time I have sx with her.
But cd are something else I could tamper with.
I wonder what it would feel like to be inside her without a cd. She’s let me inside of her for a few seconds before-just to prep her before putting on the cd. But I’ve never finished.
“Mmm,” she m®ans, her sleepy voice breathless. “Carter.”
What did she just say?
I immediately pull away from her
What?
What.
The.
Fk?
My chest hurts. It feels like someone just crushed it. Dropped a brick on it. Dropped a whole building on it.
Somewhere between m®aning his name and regaining consciousness, Sloan pulled her shirt down
Somewhere between maning his name and regaining consciousness, I wrapped my hand around her throat.
TOO LATE : CHAPTER 21 – 30
******
She’s staring at me. Her eyes are wide with fear. I’m sure it’s a scary thing to wake up to your boyfriend’s hand around your throat, but she should be lucky she’s not feeling what I’m feeling right now.
“Are you fking him?”
It takes all the effort I have not to scream those words at her. Instead, my voice is calm and collected, unlike every other part of me. I’m not squeezing her throat with any significant force.
Yet.
I simply have my hand around it, so she should be answering me right now. She’s able to speak, but she’s not. The wh’re is just staring at me like she just got caught.
“Sloan? Are you fking Carter? Has he been inside you?”
Sloan immediately begins to shake her head. She presses her palms into the mattress and pushes herself up against the headboard. My hand doesn’t leave her throat.
“What are you talking about?” she says. “No. Of course not. God, no.”
She’s looking at me like I’m ¢razy. She’s very convincing.
My mother was convincing, too. Look where that landed her.
I tighten my grip, watching her face as it slowly turns a shade pinker. She winces and fists the sheet at her sides. Her eyes begin to fill with tears.
Good thing my father taught me not to let a woman’s tears fool me.
I lean in toward her until I’m a mere two inches from her. I scroll over her eyes, her mouth, every lying part of her gddmn face. “You just said his name, Sloan, when I was trying to please you. You whispered his fking name. You said Carter.”
Sloan shakes her head. She’s so adamant about it, shaking it with such intensity, I ease my grip around her throat so she can speak.
After inhaling a gasp of air, she blurts out, “I didn’t say Carter, you dipsht. I said harder. I was awake and could feel you kssing me. I wanted you to do it harder.”
I stare at her.
I let her words sink in.
I let her explanation massage the ache in my chest until I can breathe again.
I slowly slide my hand away from her throat, down her nck.
Fk.
I’m being paranoid.
Why would I ever think she’d dream about another guy when she sleeps next to me? She wouldn’t cheat on me. She can’t. She has no one else. It would be the worst mistake she ever made and she knows it.
I need to get her out of this house. Away from all these people. I’m more certain now than I was ten minutes ago that I need to make her a mother. Make her a wife. Give her a place of our own where other men are never around to make me this paranoid.
Sloan leans forward and reaches to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She tosses it on the floor and then pushes me back against the headboard, sliding onto my lap.
And just like that, I’m hard again.
TOO LATE : CHAPTER 21 – 30
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