I don’t even trust myself to open my mouth at this point. I just nod my head as his smirk spreads a little further.
“And here I thought we had agreed to tell the truth.”
His hand around my throat suddenly slides up to grab my jaw, twisting my head to the side and forcing me to stare at the scene barely five feet away. My eyes go wide and I stare in shock at the girl on her knees in front of a man sitting in a leather armchair, her lips wrapped around his dick, her mouth slurping up and down.
Holy crap.
Wet, slobbering sounds fill my ears, making me cringe. Tension twists and claws at my chest and arms, my very toes curling in my high heels at the wave of anxiety that washes over me.
I try to look away, but Vaughn’s grip is unyielding. I strain harder, trying to twist my face away from the sight of the girl’s mouth swallowing the thick, rigidly hard penis, slick and glistening with her spit. But that’s not happening, not with his hand holding my jaw so firmly.
So I close my eyes.
I have to.
It’s…too much, right in front of my face like that.
Again, it’s not that I don’t like the idea of sex. It’s just…right freakingthere, and it’s so shockingly on display that it’s like the anxiety inside of me is turning to napalm through my veins. My eyes are still squeezed shut when I hear a soft, deep chucklecoming from Vaughn’s throat. He pulls my face back around, and I feel deeply, profoundly pathetic as I slowly open my eyes.
“I believe the expression isdon’t jump into the deep end when you can’t swim.” His voice rumbles through my body as his hand slides sensually down again, wrapping around my throat in that same firm, controlled, non-violent way.
“I…”
Comeon. Why theheckcan’t I make words right now?
Do you really need to ask that?
“This is the very last time I’m going to ask you this, Evelina,” Vaughn murmurs in his low baritone. “What thefuckare you doing here? And do not insult me by trying to sell me some bullshit about you justhappeningto be at this club andchancingto wander into this room using a password you have no reason to know. Because I promise you…”
I whimper—legitwhimper—when his hand squeezes my windpipe.
“I’m not in the market for bullshit tonight. So…” His eyes narrow, causing my pulse to spike. “Tell me why?—”
“I need a favor!”
The sentence explodes like one long uninterrupted word from my shaking lips. Bored amusement glides over his features.
“A favor.”
I nod. “Y-yeah.”
“I’m all ears.”
I swallow heavily, his powerful hand still around my throat. My legs shake.
“My father?—”
“No.”
There’s not a shred of humor in his tone when that single word stabs into me. His mouth thins, and he slowly shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
An icy chill rakes through my body.
He doesn’t even know what I was going to say.
“Please, if I could just?—”
“No, you couldnot,” he murmurs coldly. “I’m categorically not interested.”
