Page 47 of Mine

I find myself wondering what makes Sabine tick. What her favorite color is, her favorite flower, how she takes her coffee, how she likes to spend a Sunday morning. What I can do to make her so happy that she will never leave me.

Could it be possible?

Could Sabine be my soulmate, if there is such a thing? She makes me feel like there is such a thing.

The physical connection between us is undeniable, but that’s just sex. Even a blunt instrument like me understands that. What gets me is the way she stands up for herself, the way she doesn’t back down from me. The way she can see right through my bullshit.

Sabine is smart, witty, and fearless. And if all that isn’t enough, I admire her for accepting a shady job with Carlos. It takes courage, grit, and an occasional bending of the rules to get ahead in this life.

I lean back in my chair, focusing on the article in front of me. One word stands out, one that has been repeated in every article I’ve read.

Communication.

Communicate, Astor.

Communicate.

The thought is as appealing to me as walking into oncoming traffic.

What if she doesn’t like me after I communicate? What if she runs away, hands over her ears, and then dies on the electric fence because death is better than spending another second with me?

After all, darkness taints every story I have to tell.

Twenty-Eight

Sabine

He’s outside my bedroom door. I can feel him.

I’m now certain it was him the night before, watching me sleep.

He’s come back three times since Cillian sent me to my room with painkillers and an ice pack. Each time, Astor’s shadow darkens the crack of my open door. He stands there, unmoving and unspeaking, while I pretend not to see him. After a few minutes, he vanishes.

Now, however, he lingers.

The clock reads 11:37 p.m. I’m lying in bed. Moonlight streams through the windows, pooling on the hardwood floor and illuminating the room in a deep blue glow.

I want to scream for him to come to me. Lie with me. Be with me.

I don’t understand the power this man has over me, but I know that I don’t want it to go away. Astor’s presence alone lights me from the inside out. Our chemistry is undeniable, my need for him all-consuming. And it’s getting worse with each moment we’re together, each time we touch. The sexual tension between us is already unbearable. I’m wild with arousal just knowing he’s a few feet away, secretly watching me.

My gaze locked on his silhouette, I slide my naked body out from under the covers and sit up taller against the pillow.

He moves, ever so slightly.

Slowly, I spread open my knees, exposing myself to him.

My finger trails down my throat, between my breasts, down my stomach, settling between my legs. I’m already wet.

Opening wider, I dip a finger between my folds, slowly slide in and out, then add another finger.

My gaze never leaves his silhouette, thrilled with the knowledge he’s watching me from the shadows. It is the most erotic, thrilling moment of my life. I don’t know who this woman is, but I like her confidence, her unapologetic sensuality. I like the power she has over him.

Using my other hand, I begin massaging my breast, gently squeezing the erect nipple. Heat begins to build.

Watch me.

Watch me, my beautiful Astor.

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