Page 140 of Captive Omega

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “If you want me to.”

“And if I don’t?” I do, but I’m not sure I should be jumping into bed with anyone in this house when I’m not planning on staying. This isn’t home.

“Then I won’t.” He gathers me in his arms, and I yelp in surprise when he stands. “I said three men would wait forever for you, beautiful. You need to learn to listen.”

“I can walk.”

“But you don’t always have to. You have me.”

I look away, pretending that soft admission didn’t just arrow right into my heart. “I don’t need you to function as my legs, Vaughn.”

He hums as he walks out of the gym, his hold on me secure. “Are you sure? I see a happy future as your?—”

I kiss him because he makes it impossible not to.

His steps slow as he returns the kiss.

Breaking it far sooner than I want to, I meet his gaze. He looks at me like someone just gave him the thing he wanted for Christmas. Not spoilt kid on Christmas morning. This is something else.

“Okay,” I say softly. “You can carry me up to my room. This time.”

“I won’t drop you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he promises. “I told you I’m good with my hands and what I’m carrying is priceless.”

This man…

It would be far too easy to fall for a man like Vaughn.

“I know you won’t.”

That isn’t why I’m against it. It’s about not wanting to look weak. And it’s about not wanting to get used to this treatment when it won’t last.

Chapter 40

Resa

Istare into space as hot water sluices over me.

Vaughn carried me up to my room, left after a kiss, and said nothing about his erection, which I could not help but feel as he carried me up in his arms.

He just adjusted the front of his pants and walked away like it was no big deal, leaving me with the same thoughts that chased me into the shower after I wasted an hour staring out of the window.

How the hell am I supposed to look Garrison in the eye after today?

I don’t regret what happened between me and Vaughn. But I should. I should be grieving Henry. Instead, I let Vaughn eat me out on his drum kit while Garrison listened on the phone.

I lean my hot face against the marble. “What were you thinking, Resa? What happened to staying focused on finding Dexter Pieter and just going home?”

My rumbling belly reminds me it’s been a while since I ate. Guilt reminds me I’m not doing a thing to find Jerome Walker. I rest my hand on my rounded stomach, a visible reminder I need to be doing all I can to make this world a better one for my baby.

I flick the faucet off and get out of the shower. I’ve wasted more than enough time today.

My clothes have multiplied again.

I dig through my dresser, realize there’s a closet I never bothered opening, and get another shock of my life. More clothes. A whole closet full. Brand new, probably ridiculously expensive, and I didn’t ask for any of it.

I pull on a loose navy linen pants and a soft, cream angora sweater, brushing my hair before I head downstairs, on a mission to silence my growling belly before I get to work figuring out what message to send to Dexter Pieter.

Who is responsible for adding to my wardrobe on a near-daily basis? Lex, undoubtedly. But is he doing it, or is someone telling him to? Someone like Garrison Brewster who heard me climax down the phone and who I can never, ever look in the eye again.

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