Page 21 of Extraction Play

“Seven and already showing some dangerous tendencies,” Eva said, waggling her brows. “Slashing apart my platypus in a fit of pique.”

“Maybe if you had let me play games with you and your friends, I wouldn’t have needed to unleash on Gerald.”

Pixie’s lips quirked as the two went back and forth, and she tried to ignore the twinge in her chest. Sibling dynamics were something she’d always been envious of—steady families in general were—but siblings had never been in the cards for her. It was a miracle she’d survived her childhood in the first place.

“Trust me when I tell you I didn’t enjoy the games with those bitches either.” Eva wrapped her elegant fingers around her mug, her pink manicure standing out against the cream of the ceramic. “Mom and Dad were choosy with who I spent time with.”

“The fucking worst.” Micah lifted his coffee in salute.

Pixie’s throat tightened. They had each other, even though they’d experienced a garbage situation with their parents. She wanted that so damn badly, someone who understood. Who shared in the hell lived as Maisie went through her ups and downs, good moments Pixie learned to hold close and the bad ones Pixie had survived by the skin of her teeth.

“We should get ready to go,” Pixie said, placing her empty cup on the counter. “The Conservatory will be opening soon, so we can get in early.” If she stayed around them any longer, she’d be tempted to open her mouth and contribute her own angst to the equation, and no one wanted that.

On rare moments, she’d dropped bombs of her childhood around friends back in college. And every time, they’d immediately put distance between them. She’d understood the truth—she was too fucked up, too damaged to stick around.

She’d come close with Micah and the others at Whipped, letting out little bits here and there. However, she’d swallowed back the worst of what she’d been through. She couldn’t bear if they looked at her differently, if they started to distance themselves like all the others had. Only seeing poor, broken Pixie rather than a fucking survivor.

“Sounds good to me,” Micah said with a yawn. “Think I have time for a shower?”

“You need one.” Eva wrinkled her nose. “You reek of spunk.”

“Bet you can’t guess why.”

Eva thwacked him on the shoulder. “Go, shower now.”

Hearing Eva’s commanding tone had Pixie paying closer attention on instinct.

Micah scampered down the hallway to the bathroom. Pixie should be moving, but she didn’t want to budge, not when Eva stood right next to her, looking hot as sin.

Eva grinned. “I wonder whose idea the Conservatory was.”

The space between them seemed like miles and nothing at the same time. Pixie clutched her mug a little tighter as the sound of the shower spray hit her ears. Eva’s auburn hair was wet from her shower but neatly combed and tucked into a ponytail. The spark in her eyes, thecleverly arched brow, the curve of her lush lips, fuck, she could spend days drawing this woman’s features and not get tired of them.

“I may have mentioned something,” she said, running her thumb along the rim of the mug. Eva’s eyes tracked the movement, then returned to her face and pinned her in place. All too easily, her throaty, low voice when delivering commands echoed in Pixie’s head. How she’d called herdoveadded the perfect amount of humiliation to make her soaked.

“How are you feeling?” Eva asked, casting a glance to the hallway. The water was still running, though, so Micah wouldn’t overhear.

“I’ll have you know that wasn’t my first rodeo at being fucked and filled by an assortment of Doms.”

Eva snorted. “What are we, a box of chocolates?”

“Great for sampling.” Pixie winked.

Eva placed her hands on her hips, which were highlighted by the cute-as-fuck skimpy pajama set she wore. “I’m well aware of what you’re doing, Pixie Monroe. Meg trusted me, and I don’t take that lightly.”

Pixie’s chest tightened. Right, an obligation. The stupid part of her that had preened under the woman’s attention wilted.

Eva brushed her fingertips over Pixie’s jaw. “None of that. Even if she hadn’t, I’d want to make sure you’re okay.”

“None of what?” Pixie said, fluttering her lashes. What was this woman, a mind reader?

“You realize you’ve got tells, right?” Eva let her fingertips rest along her jawline. Electricity coursed through her from the touch alone. “Not only are your eyes expressive, but your lower lip juts out a bit when something trips you up.”

Her heart did a somersault. Eva had observed details about her she hadn’t even been aware of herself. The realization she’d paid that close attention to her wasn’t helping tamp down the flames of her crush.

“So answer me, dove.” Eva’s voice was soft but firm, and the pet name did her in.

“I’m feeling good. I got a little detached in the aftermath last night, but our time on the couch helped.”

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