Chapter 4

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Sarah turns on her side, covering her head with a pillow as light spills in through the tatty curtains. Had something woken her? Fuck it, she thinks, it's early.

She hears an impatient knock on her door. Raising her head in confusion, she wonders who would be knocking at this time of the morning.

Before she has the chance to get one foot out of bed, a key turns in the lock, and her heartbeat suddenly quickens. There's only one person who has a key to every door in the sanctuary, and that's Negan. Generally, she'd be more than happy to have Negan in her bedroom, but the fact that she's wearing his t-shirt, his t-shirt that she'd taken without his permission, made her feel sickly.

She jumps back under the covers, lifting them almost to her chin just as he steps through the door, closing it behind himself.

"The fuck have you been doing? I've been knocking for five fucking minutes." Negan frowns.

"Really?" Sarah raises an eyebrow.

"Well.. no, not exactly five minutes, but close enough."

"Is there something wrong?"

"I wanna go out on a run. John said he saw a warehouse a few miles east of the satellite outpost, looks like one of those supply places they set up early on, fucking crawling with dead fucks."

"So, you're thinking it might be untouched?"

"Exactly." Negan smiles. His smile turns to a frown. "You fucking sick or some shit?"

"No.. why?"

"Because you've got those covers pulled up so damn high, like you've got a cold or something." Negan sits down beside her and tugs on the covers, his brows furrowed as he takes note of her t-shirt, or rather his t-shirt. "The fuck?" He frowns. "Where did you get that?"

"I'm sorry," she barely whispers, her cheeks crimson.

"Seriously though, where did you fucking get that?"

"I.. i snagged it off your bedroom floor.. when you weren't looking."

Negan stares at her, not sure whether to be flattered or creeped out. "You took my fucking t-shirt?"

"It.. it smells nice, and, it helps me sleep. I'm sorry, you can have it back if you want?"

Negan tugs the covers down a little more till the tops of her thighs are showing, and he wonders what she's wearing underneath. As his eyes catch sight of her erect nipples pressing against his t-shirt, he's convinced she's wearing nothing. He fights the urge to tell her he wants it back, that she should take it off right there and then, so he can see if she's completely naked beneath. It would be so easy to put her over his knee, show her what happens to naughty girls who take his shit. As he gazes up at her, it's as if she can read his mind, her eyes full of want.

"Do you want me to take it off?" She smiles.

Negan bites on his lip before rising to his feet. "No, you can keep it, sweetheart. Looks fucking good on you." He smirks. "Just, don't go taking anymore of my shit, okay?"

Sarah breathes a sigh of relief. "Yes, sir."

Negan's eyes darken a little. He leans over her, curling his fingers beneath her chin. "Don't do that," he growls lowly, sending a shiver straight through her entire body. "You better promise me you're gonna be a good girl, and do exactly what i fucking say."

"Yes, Negan," she almost whimpers, licking her lips. "I promise."

Negan presses his lips softly against hers with a smirk. "Good. Now get dressed, i wanna see you out front in twenty."

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