Page 2 of Carry Your Debt

My need to compulsively second-guess each and every move on the board before I make it.

My one andonlyexploitable weakness.

My Achilles heel.

Which, of course, is why my father’s strategy had involved plucking her directly out of my sphere of protection, and why giving into these darker desires of mine would only paint an even bigger target on both our heads.

Why right now, loving Sabine Winters—inallthe ways I crave—would be nothing short of mutually assured destruction.

But that self-restraint I love to extol is dancing on a fucking knife’s edge, and my thoughts are quickly turning intrusive once more. I groan inwardly as my cock kicks enthusiastically against the pleated front of my tailored pants.

Depraved images of all the ways Icouldhave her, if I dared.

Consumeher.

Admittedly, it’d be nothing but a half-life for either of us—but at least I’d have access tosomepart of her.

Despite the hunger that’s now burning a path down my abdomen, at this very moment, I find myself needing to know how she’s feeling.Whatshe’s feeling.

Because Sabine Winters is a fucking iceberg, and I don’t think there’s a single person in existence who knows exactly what lays beneath that severe, outer mask.

So, in place of mauling her, I grit my teeth and silently will my dick to back the fuck down, initiating an assessing sweep across her sharp features instead. I'm not sure what it is I’mhoping to find; reading micro-expressions and postural tells isn’t exactly an option when it comes to Sabine.

But I’ll work with what I’ve got.

What Icansee is those mesmerizing eyes of hers are still a little glossy, a little dazed. Her skin’s definitely more pale than usual, which I suppose is to be expected, given her recent shock. I do notice that the apples of her cheeks are flushed a light pink, though.

Curious.I didn't know Sabine evencouldblush.

My focus pulls down to that naturally pouty mouth before reluctantly continuing a clinical path down the front of a wrinkled shirt—one that’s been haphazardly tucked into an equally creased skirt—all the way down to a pair of bare, sandy feet.My gaze returns along the lithe length of her, up past those subtly reddened cheeks, before ending on tousled, platinum blonde hair.

I stiffen then, clenched teeth grinding.

Jesus Christ.

Shelooksfreshly fucked.

I inhale, my nostrils flaring.

Not a blush.

Freshly fucked.

The beast lowers its head, claws digging painfully into my chest wall.

Almost as if she can hear my thoughts, Sabine’s lips part on a soft intake of breath. She leans back, the slightly scattered look in her eyes sharpening as she absorbs the latent hostility in my own expression. A host of stilted emotions plays out across her face: desire, then confusion...no, wait—fear?

But no sooner do those feelings breach the usually calm surface of Sabine’s mask than they slip back under, her expression immediately cooling in their wake. All that remainsthen is that all too familiar apathy, and I can’t help the heavy pall of disappointment that settles over my shoulders in response.

That blink-and-you’ll-miss-it spark I’d glimpsed in her eyes?I need more.

I also need the identity ofwhoever the fuckshe was just out with.

Chewing onthatparticular mystery has my pulse ratcheting right back up and my slacks tightening even further. So I stand abruptly, twisting my hips so Sabine doesn’t take direct evidence of my runaway thoughts to the face.

Yet, the beast hisses, lowly.Yet.

Pushing an aggrieved hand through my hair, I tug on the strands in frustration. With my back still to her, I manage to pull in a single, settling breath before biting out, “Go take a shower, Sabe. We’ll discuss our next movements after you’ve freshened up.”

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