Page 39 of His Red Carnation

Sloane and I fucked in the shower, using my cock to help her forget all about her shitty tour experience. After we dried off, she immediately crawled into bed naked, and I quickly followed, wrapping my arms around her. As I held her close, I glanced out the window, watching the sun set and transform the California sky into a swirl of orange and pink. I gently rubbed my hand up and down her soft arm, feeling content and sleepy.

The sudden loud vibration of her phone broke the silence, making both of us jump. She grabbed her phone with a lookof irritation, likely annoyed that it interrupted our peaceful moment.

I glanced over as she unlocked her phone, and my heart dropped—it was a zoomed-in photo of me from earlier at the college. I was crossing my arms, looking over my shoulder, seemingly at the camera.

“What the fuck?” I asked, almost in sync with Sloane.

She scrolled down, and I caught a glimpse of the text over her shoulder:UM, EXCUSE ME. Sloane Gabriela Martin. Who is this fucking babe following you around UCB? Your new bodyguard?

Sloane let out a snort, clearly amused.

“It’s my friend, Taylor,” she explained.

“Well, how the fuck did she get that picture?” I was too confused to feel amused or flattered.

Sloane began texting back:Yes, that’s Callan, my new bodyguard. How did you get this?!

We both waited quietly for a response as the text bubbles appeared. She sent back a link and then added:He’s more popular than your dad right now. BABE, he’s a babe.

Sloane tapped on the link, leading us to a series of threads on a social media site. She scrolled so fast I could barely keep up.

HOT NEW BODYGUARD ALERT. Sloane Martin seen touring UC Berkeley today with hot, tattooed DILF.

More fucking stalker photos of us from afar filled the screen. There were shots of me and Sloane standing a few feet apart, her beautiful smile directed at me; one of her with her hand on her hip, glancing at me while I spoke; and another where our elbows brushed as we both looked at something the tour guide was showing us.

If the focus had solely been on Sloane, I’d have been pissed. But in a strange way, I kinda liked seeing us together. I didn’t like that the attention made her uncomfortable, but I’d neverhad the chance to see us from the outside. From that distance, I didn’t look like an old man next to her—Ilikedhow we looked together.

“Hey, I have an idea,” I blurted out before I could change my mind.

Sloane glanced up at me, her phone still in hand.

“Let’s take a selfie.” I felt like a fucking idiot using the wordselfie, but we didn’t have any pictures of us together, and I wanted to see more.

A huge smile spread across her gorgeous lips, revealing that adorable dimple. She looked back down at her phone, opened the camera app, and aimed it at us.

My heart stung at how beautiful she looked on the screen. Then there was me, appearing like an old, washed-up asshole with a permanent scowl. The lines on my forehead seemed to have appeared overnight. But when Sloane pressed her lips against my cheek, all my self-doubt faded away, and by the time she hit the shutter, I had a genuine smile on my face. She glanced at the phone and scooted closer, my arm instinctively wrapping around her. She laid her head on my chest and snapped another picture.

It was starting to sink in deeper that this girl was too good for me. She made me feel good, and why the fuck did she owe me that? She would soon find out what a piece of shit I really was. The sad truth was, I never tried to be an asshole—it just happened. Everything good in my life always seemed to run away screaming in the end. Yet, even knowing that, I couldn’t help myself with Sloane. I was addicted to her. I couldn’t give her up. I tried, but she didn’t let me. And I was so fucking thankful for that.

Sloane lowered the phone and looked up at me with her wide, brown eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Is my face that obvious?

I sighed and shook my head. “Baby, you’re too good for me,” I admitted quietly.

She rolled her eyes and sat up. “I don’t know why you keep saying that, Callan. Why am I too good for you?”

“Because you’re this fucking pure eighteen-year-old babe who hasn’t done anything bad in your life. I’m a hardened thirty-eight-year-old asshole who shouldn’t even be alive because of all the stupid decisions I’ve made.” I sat up, wringing my hands together.

Sloane was quiet for a moment, staring down at her hands. Then she looked back up at me, fire igniting in her eyes. “Please stop calling me so fucking ‘pure.’ Would you call an eighteen-year-old guy with the same history as me pure? It’s misogynistic to glorify a woman just because of her age or sexual history. Would I still be pure or ‘too good’ for you if I were twenty-five or thirty? If I’d slept with ten other guys? Callan, you need to cut this bullshit. Stop trying to make yourself feel bad about this situation, because you have nothing to be ashamed of.Iinitiated this, remember? I’m choosing to be in this relationship with you. I want you foryou. I don’t care about your age or whatever bad decisions you think you’ve made in the past.”

Her passion was palpable, and tears welled in her eyes. Fuck, she was incredibly smart. I decided to keep my mouth shut and let her win this one.

“Alright, fine. Why don’t you show me how fucking unpure you are by getting on your knees and sucking my cock?”

A smile flickered across her face. “It’simpure, babe.” She was fucking correcting me and I loved it. “And let’s double up and film it.”

My cock instantly hardened. I knew she wasn’t a sweet little angel—my dirty girl was meant for me. I had to stop letting myself forget that.

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