Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,62

ignoring whatever pressing thought was running through her mind. “And I know a lot, you knows. I know everything. I don’t know that. Don’t know why I want you”

“I think I should get you to bed.”

Her blush deepens. She wags her index finger at me. “Nah uh. No no. Just because you’re handsome, and I like the way your abs do the muscle thing they do. It doesn’t mean I’ll go to bed with you. And you can’t force me because hashtag me too and twenty-twenty and all that.”

She staggers back over to me and I grab her finger, and she gasps. I understand her reaction at the simple touch because I feel it, too. Like a bolt of current shooting straight through my chest and much further south. My cock pulses beneath my jeans, and my entire body warms in a way I’ve never felt and do not understand.

Maybe, I’m secondhand drunk.

I take the bottle from her hands and take a swig. She whines like I’ve stolen her puppy. “That’s miiiiyyyne.”

I hold her gaze. “If it’s in my apartment, it’s mine.”

Her eyes widen in both fear and desire, and I find myself tracing the outline of her jaw with my thumb. “Finders keepers does not apply here,” she mutters. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch. “That’s nice. It makes me feel tingly.” Her eyes open. “All over.”

“I think you need to lay down,” I say, clearing my throat.

She nods and stumbles over to the couch where she falls face down onto the cushions.

I laugh. “That was graceful. Did you learn that move while you were getting your doctorate?”

The only answer I get is a soft snore, because Mickey has passed the fuck out.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mickey

I’m having the dream again.

The one where I’m drowning in murky dark water.

Only this time, it feels more real. I can taste the salty water, feel the gritty texture of the thick mud on my tongue. It runs down my throat as I will my burning lungs not breathe it in. My eyes still as I open them, but it’s no use, I can’t see anything but blackness before me. As if I’m floating in the vast emptiness of space.

I’m scared. More scared than I’ve ever been before. My pulse races and terror sweeps through my body like an invasion of hornets stinging me into action. I’m swimming, forcing my arms and legs to move even though I’m not sure which way is up because I have to do something, and that something right now is to fight for my life, even though it seems like the outcome has already been written and the fates are laughing at me for even bothering my survival attempt.

When my hand touches the soft mud and seagrass of the river floor, I realize that hope is lost. I can’t make it back the other direction. My burning lungs force my mouth open, and I inhale the thick salty water. I’m panicking when I’m suddenly ripped from the river. Not by someone coming to my rescue, but by a sound. A loud bang.

I wake up with a start, clutching my throat and gasping for air as if I’ve finally broken through the surface. It’s still dark, and I can’t see anything in front of my face, but reality calms me as I realize that I’m not in the water at all. It was just a dream. I’m in bed.

After a few seconds, I’m able to calm my breathing. I run my hands over the mattress around me, and the ebbing fear roars back to life.

I’m in a bed, but it isn’t mine.

A large masculine body stirs beside me, rinsing away the grogginess of sleep and reminding me of where I am and who I’m with.

Pike.

A large bang against the window makes me jump. My head pounds with a reminder of how much I drank last night. Or this morning. I don’t know what time it is because there’s no light shining through the windows, now covered with what looks like corrugated metal hurricane shutters.

The shutters rattle on the window as the sound of the apocalypse rages outside. I begin to shiver. I’ve never been scared of storms before. Logically, there’s no reason to be scared of wind and rain if you’re inside, but this is a massive hurricane, and although Thorne explained that we’re safe and prepared, I can’t help but feel the opposite.

I raise my knees to my chest and try to calm my breathing.

“It’s about time