Too Late

It’s dark enough outside and the property is encased with enough trees that I’m not worried about neighbors seeing us as we climb in my back seat. The only thing I’m worried about is the fact that her fiancé is inside the house and getting caught would mean...

I don’t even want to think about that right now. Dalton hasn’t texted me yet, so we’ve got time.

I shut the back door and reach over the front seat, grabbing a condom out of the glove box. When I fall back against the seat, she’s sliding on top of me, mouth on mine, hands on my chest.

Down my chest.

I lift her bra over her breasts and work my mouth over her at the same time she frees me from my jeans.

Once I get the condom on, I grab her hips and position her on top of me while she pulls her panties aside. I lean my head back against the seat so I can watch her face as I enter her.

We make eye contact and I begin to lower her on top of me, slowly. Everything grows much quieter in the car as we both hold our breaths. My eyes never leave hers the whole time she’s taking me in. When we’re finally skin to skin and I’m fully inside her, we simultaneously release a sharp exhale.

“My God,” I whisper.

It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt—finally being inside her.

It’s the guiltiest I’ve ever felt—knowing how much danger my lack of willpower is putting her in.

She leans forward and wraps her arms around my neck. “Luke,” she breathes against my lips.

I fucking die.

She called me Luke.

My mouth finds hers again and I kiss her the way she deserves to be kissed. With conviction. With respect. With feeling.

She begins to move on top of me and she’s all I see.

I close my eyes and she’s all I fucking see.





I had no idea it could feel like this.

That sounds so cliché, even as I’m thinking it. But his hands, his mouth, the way he touches me—it’s like my response is what he lives for.

And right now, the only thing I’m focused on is the way he’s moving his hand against me, touching me in just the right place that I’m afraid I might not only wake Asa up, but the entire neighborhood. As if he can sense this, he covers my mouth with his, stifling my moans as I crush myself against him. My legs begin to shake, my arms, my whole body, as the greatest sensation I’ve ever felt slams through me.

“Luke,” I moan against his lips.

As weak as I am in this moment, I find the strength to continue moving until I’m the one having to stifle his sounds. His mouth is incredible. He tastes like fruit. He tastes sweet.

Nothing like the bitterness I swallow when I kiss Asa.

When we’re both no longer shaking, and I’m still on top of him, he leans forward and feathers his lips across my shoulder.

I don’t know how I went from hating him two hours ago in the kitchen to feeling more for him in this moment than all the days before combined.

Knowing that he’s not like Asa...that’s he’s the complete opposite of Asa...it’s so...attractive.

He’s good. He’s a good guy. They actually exist.

It all came together like an epiphany while I was floating in the pool. Him calling himself by the wrong name. Him taking a Spanish class that is years beneath his ability, only to conveniently be in there with me. The way he continued to reassure me that I needed to trust him, but he would never say why. Using another girl as a decoy.

That was the kicker. I figured that one out before he even came clean at the pool.

When Dalton said Carter...or Luke, rather...was telling the truth, I knew there was more to it. More to her. More to him blatantly making out with someone else when he’s in the same house as me. I told myself that if he came outside and denied ever being with her that I would know then that he’s a liar. That he’s just like Asa.

But if he came outside and told me the truth—that he was using her to throw Asa off—then I knew I was right. I had him pegged.

I just didn’t know which one I preferred to hear. That he was just like Asa...or that he’d been using me this whole time.

As soon as he realized I had figured it out, I was expecting that to be the end of us. I thought he would fear for his job and try to cut some kind of deal with me to keep me quiet. Because guys like him...guys with careers, who are good and successful and kind...they don’t fall for girls like me.

Or at least that’s what I was raised to believe.

But I was wrong, because he’s not worried about his job. When he says all he sees is me, I believe him. Because all I see is him. And right now I want to soak up every second of him.

His arms are wrapped around me and we’re both just trying to catch our breath. This was stupid. We both know it, but right now I would say it was completely worth it.

“As much as I wish you could stay right where you are forever, you should go back inside,” he says.

I know he’s right, but I wish he wasn’t. Inside is the last place I want to be after this. I run my fingers through his hair and can smell the fresh scent of shampoo. I bend forward and sniff his hair. “You showered? Before you came back to the house?”

He smiles, I can see it even in the dark.

“So you showered and you had condoms in your car? Were you expecting to get laid tonight?”

He drops his head against the headrest and a slow, satisfied grin stretches across his lips. “I showered because I like to look good for you. I have a condom in my car because I like to be prepared. And it’s been there for six months, in case you’re curious.”

I was, but I don’t have a right to be. He knows what still happens between Asa and me at night. If I could stop it I would, but it’s just not an option right now. Not until I’m no longer in this house.

But we don’t talk about that. About the fact that I’m still with Asa, and about how what just happened between Luke and me wasn’t right, no matter how right it felt. But I honestly don’t care that I just cheated on Asa. I should feel guilty, but I don’t.

Karma’s a bitch, Asa Jackson.

Luke runs his thumb over my arm and pushes down my bra strap. He dips his thumb under it, rubbing back and forth. “Sloan?”

I’m tracing his jaw. He has a great face. Masculine in all the right places, but a hint of soft femininity to his lips. “Yeah?”

“How did you figure it out?”

I grin. “You’re all I see, Luke. And I’m really smart.”

He nods. “Yes, you are.” He presses his palms against my back and pulls me against him, but before his lips meet mine, my back hits the seat and he’s hovering over me, covering my mouth with his hand. “Be still,” he whispers, looking out the front window.

My heart feels like it climbs up my throat.

We’re dead. We’re dead.

We. Are. Dead.

I hear a heavy pounding against the window, but I’m not so sure it isn’t just my heart. “Open the fucking door!”

I close my eyes, but feel Luke’s mouth press against my ear. “It’s just Dalton,” he whispers. “Stay down.”

I nod and cover myself with my arms as Luke sits up and opens the door. Something comes flying into the back seat, and Luke catches it in his arms. “What the fuck!” Luke says, gathering whatever Dalton just threw at him.

Dalton leans in through the door and looks at me. “Next time you two decide to sneak off and fuck, make sure you take your clothes with you.”

Luke hands me my shirt and jeans that Dalton just threw at him. I frantically pull my shirt over my head, embarrassed that we were so careless.

“Is he awake?” Luke asks Dalton.

Dalton eyes him hard, saying so many things with that look that I don’t even begin to understand. “No. But you need to leave before you get us both killed.” Then Dalton turns and looks at me. “And you need to get back in the house before Carter gets you killed.”

He stands up, and right before he slams the car door, he says, “We need to talk before you leave, Carter.”

I’m struggling into my jeans and Luke reaches over to help me. I really should keep calling him Carter in my head, otherwise I’ll likely slip up and call him Luke around Asa.

“Are you in trouble?” I ask him. I button my jeans and then straighten out my shirt. He slides a hand around to the nape of my neck.

“I’m always in trouble, Sloan. I wish I could tell you I’m good at my job, but I think this has proven that my priorities are a little out of line.”

I laugh. “I personally think your priorities for the past half hour were spot-on.”

He kisses me and says, “Go. Be careful.”

I kiss him back, hard. And when I walk away from him this time, it doesn’t hurt quite as much. Because now I have hope. Hope that he has a plan to get us out of this mess.





I smile the entire time I’m in the shower, because when I opened the back door and walked into a spotless kitchen, I knew without a doubt it had been Carter who cleaned it.

No one—and I mean no one—has ever lifted a finger to help me around this house. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that cleaning is the way to a girl’s heart, but based on my reaction, I’d say it’s the way to mine. Because I nearly cried when I heard the dishwasher running.

That’s really sad. Loading a dishwasher means more to me than an engagement ring? From the outside looking in, it would seem my priorities are way out of line, too.