Page 45 of Extraction Play
They reached the familiar sight of Pixie and Micah’s high-rise, and Eva guided them forward, out of the chill of San Francisco’s windynights. The bright light of the foyer grated too harshly tonight, maybe due to what had been uncovered. Eva kept her palm firmly against Pixie’s back, unwilling to break the contact between them. They got into the elevator and pressed the button for the way up. Eva slid her arm around Pixie’s waist and drew her in tight to her side.
The tears had stopped flowing, leaving trails on her cheeks, her mascara smudged, yet Pixie looked stunning. Something fragile but resilient remained in the wake of the discovery that lured Eva in stronger than ever. She understood this wasn’t something the woman shared easily. Whether or not Micah or the others at Whipped even knew was up for debate.
“Fuck.” Pixie scrubbed her face with one hand. She forced a grin. “Guaranteed way to scare someone off. Just vomit up all your trauma at them in one go.” Her voice trembled slightly, and Pixie forced her gaze away.
That wouldn’t do.
“Dove, look at me,” Eva said, her tone firm. Pixie responded, her instincts and their connection snapping into place. The vulnerable way she stared at her, the hint of fear in her eyes, made Eva even more aware of the responsibility on her shoulders. She’d been handed a precious gift that was far too easy to shatter. “What do you need from me tonight? Do you need a shoulder to cry on? Do you want to put on a shitty movie and cuddle on the couch?”
Before Pixie could answer, the elevator dinged. Eva guided her off, and together, they walked to the condo. Pixie’s shoulders formed a taut line as if she was waiting for rejection to descend.
It definitely wouldn’t come from her.
“Or do you need me to fuck you so hard you can’t thinkof anything else?”
Pixie’s nostrils flared. “I don’t see how you could find me attractive after all that.” Her tone was heartbreakingly small, something Eva needed to fix. She understood what speaking the truth cost, how terrifying that could feel. If she could offer a safety net tonight, she would.
Eva slid her hand down past the small of Pixie’s back and squeezed one of her rounded cheeks. Fuck, this woman had such a stellar ass. One of these days, she would fuck her there. Pixie let out a soft breath, her lips in a deliciouso.
Eva leaned in until her lips brushed Pixie’s ear. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I find a strong, resilient woman sexy as hell? I want to tie you up and make you come so hard you can’t feel your legs anymore.”
The full-body shiver rocking through Pixie was a reward unto itself. Even though hesitation still lingered with Eva—she didn’t want to push her while she was raw like this—she also couldn’t ignore Pixie’s responses.
Pixie fumbled for her keys when they stopped in front of the condo door. Once she got it open, she glanced back. “That. I want that.”
Eva’s lips curled into a grin, and she followed Pixie inside. She was nervous about playing with anything too in-depth after an emotional crash, but she trusted Pixie to speak up if anything wasn’t okay. Even though she was a new Domme, Pixie was an experienced sub.
When Pixie opened up about her past, this rush of helplessness had shot through her that she loathed. After everything that had happened with getting ousted from her relationship, her house, she was tired of feeling out of control.
Taking care of Pixie tonight, she could do.
And in taking care of her, she’d be able to collect little pieces of herself off the floor along the way.
“Let’s go to your bedroom, dove. I don’t want any interruptions tonight.”
Chapter Eighteen
Pixie’s chest ached like someone had just run a car straight through it.
Beyond her therapist, she hadn’t even told her closest friends as much as she’d confessed to Eva. But the sight of her mother at the bar had combined with the perfect storm of the loneliness that had been consuming her as of late, and Eva had been there. She’d been the steady presence Pixie had craved, and she’d been unable to help herself from spilling out truths she swore she’d keep locked up until she died.
Yet the world was still spinning. Her feet were still on the ground. And Eva wasn’t staring at her like she was a freak, like she was broken beyond repair.
No, instead Eva stared at her like she was sexy as fuck. Like she mattered. Like pouring her guts on the pavement hadn’t made a dent in the attraction flaring between them.
It was terrifying.
It was also everything she’d ever wanted.
Eva led the way to Pixie’s bedroom like she belonged there, and a shiver rolled down her spine. Somehow, between leaving the bar and pouring her guts out to Eva, the intense urge to crawl out of her skin had dissipated. Instead, tendrils of heat crept inside her, filling the empty spaces.
Tonight she wanted to feel owned. Even if she and Eva weren’t anything more. Even if it was just a fantasy to chase.
“We went over limits at the Play Night, but has anything changed? What’s your headspace like?” Eva perched on the edge of Pixie’s bed, seeming at ease.
Pixie remained standing as she took a moment to evaluate. Even though Eva was a new Domme, she got marks for being attentive and asking the right questions. Pixie had enough experience to understand when she shouldn’t be playing, but she felt surprisingly clear-minded despite the pouring out of her darkest secrets. “My headspace is fine right now—shocking, I know—but I’ll safeword out if anything changes.”
“Still using the stoplight system?” Eva’s slow perusal melted her insides like honey.