Page 175 of Captive Omega

I sigh again, making no move to slip out of his warm embrace. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Whatever happened—or nearly happened—with you and Blaine.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.

Vaughn looks at me.

I focus on the pink flamingo in the pool. “I think he was going to kiss me.”

“And you didn’t want him to?”

“No.”

He snorts a laugh. “Want to try again?”

“Not really.” I glare at him. “I don’t want to talk about this, Vaughn.”

“But maybe you need to.”

I don’t respond. He’s probably right about that. My focus should be on my baby and figuring out what to say in this trial. I’m running out of names to add to my list, which means that soon, I’ll have to do something with that list.

And why, now that it’s time to act, am I so reluctant to do anything?

Vaughn nods at my hands. “What happened to the gloves?”

“I got them off.” They’re in the corner of my nest, under a throw, where I won’t have to look at them.

“How? Those things are a bitch to get off without help.”

“With my teeth.” He’s silent, but I glare at his expressionless face anyway, suspecting a great deal of silent laughing is going on right now. “I didn’t realize how hard they were going to be to get off until I was down here.”

“What was stopping you from going back to the person who put them on you and getting that person to take them off?” he asks with perfect seriousness.

“You’re here to annoy me on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he echoes my lie.

I dig my elbow into his side. Not hard, but he topples over like I just took an axe to him. All that’s missing is for someone to yell “timber” as he falls. Grinning, I tug him back into an upright position.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“It was agony. I think I need you to kiss it better.” He lifts his arm, wincing as he points. “Right there. Under my nipple.”

I snort a laugh and watch the hot pink flamingo I’m dying to know everything about.

“I ran away from Garrison as well,” I quietly admit.

I’m not sure why, but talking to Vaughn feels easy. He’ll laugh at me, but he won’t ever judge me or make me feel stupid. And he listens. Truly listens, even hearing the things I’m only brave enough to hint at.

Vaughn leans his shoulder against mine and I inhale his clean lemon scent. “Why?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know.”

He draws in a breath as he wraps his arm around me again, gently squeezing. “You do.”

“I might have wanted him to kiss me. But it was just for a second.” I glare at him like he accused me of murder. “It means nothing.”

He snorts. “Is it such a bad thing to want to kiss Garrison and Blaine?”

---