Home > Too Late(60)

Too Late(60)
Author: Colleen Hoover

I sigh. “She’s just a friend, Sloan. Sometimes she does favors for me.”

Sloan’s whole body sinks under the water. She sinks all the way to the bottom. When she emerges, she’s shooting daggers at me. It isn’t until I see the look on her face that I realize what I just implied.

I bring my hands up behind my head. “Not those kinds of favors, Sloan. Jesus.”

She pushes her wet hair off her forehead and I try not to look at any other part of her other than her face, but it’s really fucking difficult when she’s soaking wet.

“What favor was she doing for you Friday night that required you to have your hands all over her?”

I hate how calm she is because I know she’s raging on the inside. Which mean she’s likely to explode any minute now. I feel like the edge of this pool is the edge of a volcano.

“Answer me. What favor was she doing for you Friday night?” she repeats.

I answer honestly. “She was helping me to try and convince Asa that I’m not interested in fucking you.”

I don’t have to be staring at her chest to notice her gasp. She tries to hide it, though. She stares at me for a moment and then dips under the water again. She swims to the shallow end and then stands up and walks out of the pool. Both her bra and underwear are nude colors, completely see-through, and making me paranoid as fuck. I’m half-afraid Asa will be able to hear my pulse from his room.

Sloan continues walking around the pool until she’s standing right in front of me. Even then, she steps closer. So close, I can feel the wetness from her bra pressing against my chest.

“Are you? Interested in fucking me?”

Jesus Christ. What is she doing?

I fight my own hands as they slide to her hips. “Not really,” I say, my voice rough. “I’m much more interested in making love to you.”

She’s breathing heavily now, but nothing compared to me. I want to fucking kiss her so bad, but it would definitely be the kiss of death, because I would never stop.

That, or she’d kill me if I tried. I can’t tell if she’s still angry with me or not. She acts like she wants me to touch her-to kiss her. But she’s looking at me like she wants to throw me in the pool and hold my head underwater.

She slides her hand to her hip, covering my hand with hers. She wraps her fingers around mine and then drags my hand slowly across her stomach and up to her breast.

I swallow hard and glance up at her bedroom window. “What are you doing, Sloan?”

She leans in and stands on her toes until her breasts are pressed against me. I close my eyes and slip one of my hands around to her lower back. My fingertips dip into the back of her underwear and I pull her to me.

Her lips meet my ear, and she whispers, “Do you get a promotion if you make it to third base with your subject’s fiancé?”

My eyes pop open.

I carefully thread my fingers through her hair, tugging her head back so I can look down at her. “You aren’t making any sense, Sloan.”

She smiles, but the betrayal in her eyes is volumes louder. “I know what you are,” she says. “I know what you’re doing here. And now it all makes sense why you’re so interested in me.”

She pulls away from me, stepping back until my hands are no longer on her. She’s shooting daggers at me with her eyes. “Don’t fucking speak to me ever again or I’ll tell every last one of them you’re undercover. Luke.”

She tries to walk past me, but I immediately step in front of her and cover her mouth with my hand. She tries to scream and my eyes flick to the backdoor. No one has seen us yet, but I need to get her somewhere more private before she does something to get us both killed.

She tries to pull my hand away, clawing at it with her fingernails. I wrap my arms around her and force her to walk to the side of the house with me. She gets even angrier when she realizes what I’m doing, so she starts fighting me with all her strength. I hate having to use this much force on her, but it’s for her own protection. When I finally get her to the side of the house, behind the protective shield of trees, I push her against the wall and keep my hand over her mouth.

“Stop, it Sloan,” I say, looking her dead in the eyes. “Listen to me. Be quiet and listen to me. Please.”

She’s breathing heavily against my hand, gripping my wrist with both of hers. When she finally stops struggling, I press one hand against the house beside her head and I slowly begin to remove the other from her mouth.

She’s panting with fear by the time I put my other hand beside her head. I press my forehead to hers. “Everything I’ve ever said to you. Every look I’ve given you. Every time I’ve touched you. It was never for the job, Sloan. Not one fucking time. Do you understand that?”

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