Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,55

A secret that might not be yours to tell.”

“He’s not wrong,” I say, wrapping my arms over my mid-section.

Thorne points to the new accessory on my ankle. “For right now? For you?” She smiles. “It means you’ve leveled up.”

I tilt my head. “Thorne, it’s a bomb.” I raise my foot and slap my heel down on the table. “On. My. Body.” I pull it down. “What, exactly, have I leveled up to?”

She holds up two fingers. “Captive. Level two.”

PIKE

Mickey looks around the pawn shop like she’s taking a mental inventory. “Trying to figure out what else you can steal?” I ask. It’s meant to be a tease but comes out harsher than I wanted. So far, this gaining her trust thing is going swell.

Her back jumps. I grin, taking great pleasure in being able to startle her so easily.

She runs her hands down the spine of a cello propped up on a stand at the end of one of the aisles. “No, I’m still trying figuring out something else. ”

“And what, exactly, would that be?” I step down the aisle and meet her at the end.

“Who you really are. Sure, I picked up on some things in your apartment, but you’re right, those were the obvious things. Stuff you don’t try to hide.” She plucks at one of the cello strings. “I’ve realized that I don’t want to be quick to judge someone because people are a lot more complicated than they appear. Even you.”

“Uh, thanks?” For a moment, I feel like I’m going to choke. “You don’t have to try and analyze me. I’ll tell you right now who I am. Someone you don’t fuck with. That’s all you need to know.” I take a calming breath and try again. This time with less rage in my voice. “You already know enough,” I say, sincerely.

She crosses her arms over her chest. The movement pushes up her tits and makes them jiggle, calling my attention to the perfectly round mounds peeking out from the neckline of her shirt. I’m beginning to recognize when the timid side of her shifts to the confident side. I enjoy that almost as much as startling her.

The tits thing ain’t so bad either.

“I call bullshit,” she replies.

I walk past her, brushing her shoulder. “Call it whatever you want. You know enough.” I make a big fuss out of straightening the already straight cello as if she’s knocked it to the ground. I glance at her over my shoulder. “You can try all you want, Mic.” I stand again, looming over her. She doesn’t waiver or back down. I rake my gaze over her mouth-watering tits and back up to her big grey eyes. She blushes and I lick my lips, liking how I can turn her face from pale white to pink with a simple look. “I’m not an experiment or a hypothesis that can be answered or solved. Don’t go looking for shit that’s not there, or shit you don’t want to find.”

My words are meant to be honest, but Mickey takes it as a challenge, straightening her even more and jutting out her chin.

I suck in my bottom lip to prevent myself from doing something stupid. What the fuck is with this girl that makes me want to kiss her? I felt it that night, and I’m feeling it now. And I’m not just talking about the low vibration I fell humming on my lips, compelling me to press them against hers. I’m also talking about the pulsing of my cock straining to break free of my jeans at the mere thought of kissing her. I reach up and hold her face in my hand, rubbing my thumb over her jaw. Her lips part. Her pupils dilate. I know she feels this too. We’re so close I can practically taste her. I slide my hand around to her neck.

Mickey bends at the knees and ducks under my arm, turning around to face me in the center aisle. She clears her throat. “I understand why you have the pawn shop now.”

I huff in annoyance, more at myself than at her. I should be grateful she pulled away when she did, but I’m not. Trying to fuck her is not trust gaining.

Call the Baker twins tonight. You need to fuck this chick from your thoughts. I remind myself. “You know why I have the pawn shop?” I ask. “Because I bought it from an old lady. It was an antique store. I sling dope out