Page 74 of Captive Omega

Vaughn promptly pulls me into his lap.

“What are you doing?” I ask tightly, not sure where to put my hands.

“What does it look like?”

It’s the middle of the night. I’m dressed for bed and I’m sitting in his lap. He doesn’t want to know what I think it looks like.

“You said we were friends.” And friends do not sit in each other’s laps like this.

“We are,” he assures me. “Friends care. You’ve been on your feet all day. I figure you need to rest.”

“In your lap?” I raise my brow.

“It’s the only place to sit.” His expression is innocent. Too innocent.

I look at the padded office chair in front of the computer.

“Can’t drum from over there.” He offers me the sticks. “And you are here to drum.”

Am I?

“You could stand up.”

A slow smile stretches his lips, turning an already handsome man into a gorgeous one. “I could, but then I’d be missing out big time.”

I’m fumbling for a response when Vaughn presses the sticks into my hands. “Here.”

“I don’t drum.” I tell myself I should get up or ask him to get up. There’s really no need for me to be sitting in his lap for this.

He clasps my hips and squeezes. It’s so distracting I nearly drop the sticks. “Go for it.”

His expression is patient, and he still has his large hands on me. Firm, but breakable.

I hit the drums. The vibrations work up my arms, and it’s actually kind of fun. So I hit them again. Another one this time.

He doesn’t make a sound, but his body is shaking. “Fuck me, you’re terrible.”

“I’ve never done it before.” Glaring into his grinning face, I move to get up.

“Not so fast.” His hand tightens around my waist. “I was joking. You should’ve heard me the first time.” He strokes his hands down my arms and I shiver. His fingers circle my wrists and his grip is still easily breakable as he lifts my hands back to the drums. “You can do it.”

This is not friendly behavior.

I look at him. “You’re trying to seduce me.”

“I am trying to introduce you to a little something called fun. Ever heard of it?”

“Maybe.” A long time ago. Before going to the wrong free heat clinic ruined my life.

“Well, there’s plenty of it to be had with a couple of sticks in your hands.” He manipulates the sticks in my hand, changing the position of my wrists. “You hold them like that. Go on.”

When he takes his hands off me, a teeny tiny part of me wishes he hadn’t. “How did you learn?”

“Practice. Needed something to take my mind off of Violet.”

I smirk to hide the tiny pang of jealousy his words provoke. I guess I’m not the first girl he pulled into his lap and asked her to play the drums. “Old girlfriend dumped you?”

His brief smile is sad. “My twin. She died.”

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