Page 77 of You Owe Me

“The kind that makes me forget why I ever thought having self-control was important.”

His hands skim down my sides, thumbs brushing over my hip bones as his mouth continues its slow descent. I close my eyes and let myself fall into it. Into him. Into the way he touches me like I’m something precious instead of something that’s been keeping secrets.

When his mouth finally finds me, warm and certain, I gasp and arch into him. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there, and for these few minutes, I let myself forget about everything else. About Carter. About the plans forming in my head. About what I’m going to do today.

Because today, I stop playing defense.

He knows exactly what he’s doing—knows exactly how to make me come undone with that perfect combination of pressure and rhythm that drives me absolutely insane. I bite my lip to keep from being too loud, but he lifts his head just enough to say, “Don’t.”

“The neighbors?—”

“Fuck the neighbors,” he growls against me. “I want to hear you.”

So, I let go. Let myself make the sounds he pulls from me, let myself be loud and desperate and completely at his mercy. My back arches off the bed as the heat builds low in my stomach, spreading outward like wildfire.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves through me. “Let go for me.”

And I do. I fall apart under his mouth with a cry that’s half his name, half prayer, my whole body trembling as the orgasm crashes over me in waves. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, just works me through it until I’m gasping and oversensitive and pulling at his hair.

When he finally crawls back up my body and settles beside me, pulling me against his chest, I feel boneless and warm and temporarily free from the weight of everything I’m carrying.

“I love you,” I whisper into his neck, and I mean it with every fiber of my being.

His arms tighten around me. “I love you, too.”

We lie there in the morning light, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. The room is quiet except for our breathing and the distant hum of traffic outside. For a moment, I let myself pretend this is just a normal Saturday morning. That we’re just a regular couple having lazy morning sex and planning to spend the day in bed.

But my mind won’t stay quiet for long.

I think about the conversation I had with Sebastian and Rowan last night after my kiddie pool meltdown.

“We need to go on the offensive,” Sebastian said, voice low and urgent. “This waiting around for Carter to make his next move is bullshit.”

“Agreed,” Rowan nodded. “But what can we do? His phone was a bust, and we can’t exactly break into his apartment.”

That’s when Sebastian interrupted. “Jin Chen.”

“Who?”

“Computer science major. Lives in Hartwell—same building as Carter. Kid’s a genius with anything digital, and he owes Maverick big time.”

“How big?” I asked.

Rowan laughed. “Maverick got him out of academic probation sophomore year when Jin got caught selling test answers. Should’ve been expelled, but Maverick worked some magic with the academic integrity board.”

“Jin’s been trying to pay that debt ever since,” Sebastian continued. “Maverick won’t let him because he says the kid learned his lesson. But if we go to him—if we explain the situation—he’d probably help us out of gratitude alone.”

“What kind of help?” I pressed.

“The kind that can crack into Carter’s laptop, his email accounts, his cloud storage—anything digital that he’s got locked down. And from what I hear, Jin’s got access to the whole building’s network. Security cameras, key card logs, you name it.”

The plan started forming then, crystallizing into something that actually felt doable. Carter might keep his real secrets off his phone, but everyone has a computer. Everyone has a digital footprint. And Jin Chen has fingers that can trace those footprints anywhere they lead.

Now, lying here in Maverick’s arms, I feel my resolve solidifying. I know what I have to do today.

“You okay?” Maverick probably feels the tension that’s creeping back into my shoulders. “You seem distracted.”

“Just thinking about some research I need to do today.” Which isn’t exactly a lie. “For my thesis.”

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