4. Hope
4
HOPE
M y knees ached, the collar chafed at my throat, and I’d lost all feeling in my toes. The only silver lining to sitting on the floor like an obedient pet dog was that I didn’t have to look into the faces of the abhorrent men at the table.
Vaughn hooked a knuckle under my chin and brought my eyes to his. “Come here, Gatita.”
What? I thought I was supposed to remain at his feet and stay out of trouble.
The immediate widening of my eyes must’ve conveyed my distress, because Vaughn added, “It’s okay. These men won’t bite. Not unless I let them.”
His words probably sounded like a warning for me to behave or I’d be passed around the room, but his eyes only confirmed his earlier words: He’d never let them touch me.
“Come.” Vaughn took my hand, urging me to stand. I winced as blood returned to my legs. Then he pulled me onto his lap, perching my ass upon one of his strong thighs.
What the hell was he doing? I was relieved to be freed from the painful kneeling pose but even more terrified to be seated at a table with la Mano Roja’s most powerful members .
Vaughn’s arm snaked around my waist, dragging me higher until my leg nudged his crotch. My hands flew to his shoulders to brace myself.
“Is that better?” he asked in an all-too-relaxed pose with the cigarette hanging from his lips. Lazily, he took another drag and tapped ash into a tray at the edge of the table.
I nodded because what else was I supposed to do? Growl at him to stop messing around? A slave would never get away with being so insolent.
“Remember our lessons,” Vaughn scolded as though talking to a naughty child. “Use your words when I ask a question.” Then he pinched my ass sharp enough to make me jump.
“Y-Yes. This is much better.”
He rubbed his temple and let out an exasperated sigh. “We really have a lot of work still to do, don’t we? Yes what , Gatita?”
Unfortunately, I knew what he wanted to hear.
Only Vaughn could see the way my eye twitched as I refrained from telling him he was being a monumental jerk, and calling out every asshole in this room on their horrid perversions.
I cleared my throat. “Yes…”
Vaughn raised his brows when I hesitated.
My throat tried to close over at the vulgarity of the word about to spill from my mouth. “Master.”
Sure, there were kinky folks who enjoyed using that term in the bedroom, and more power to them. But given my current situation and the fact that my family was responsible for destroying so many lives through human trafficking, I detested the power imbalance the word master implied.
For Christ’s sake, there was a naked woman in the corner locked in a cage just like the ones Dee and I transported large dogs in. These sons of bitches were messed up.
“There’s my good girl.” Vaughn beamed a shit-eating grin and patted my ass. “I do love hearing you say that. We’ll practice it some more later.”
I was going to murder him.
Vaughn returned his attention to Miguel. “Tell me about the job you have for me.”
El Capitán leaned back in his seat, but I felt his greedy eyes on my body like a coat of grime I’d have to scrub for hours to remove. “Espinoza needs us to move a larger than usual shipment. It’ll be a regular route. Once a month instead of a smaller one each week.”
Vaughn scratched his stubbly jaw. “I’m gonna need more details than that.”
“Pickup will be Colombia. Cali.”
“Destination?”
Miguel shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to tell you that yet.”
Vaughn butted out his smoke and took a sip of whiskey. “I need to know what fuel range I’m working with so I can select the most appropriate aircraft. A Globemaster will cost ten times what a Hercules does.”
Miguel hesitated a moment before answering. “Colima.”
“City or state?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m thorough.” Vaughn’s tight-lipped smile hinted at his dissatisfaction with Miguel’s reluctance to give a clear answer.
The pair spoke about airports and logistics, but I barely grasped a word, because Vaughn’s hand was steadily creeping up my leg. As his fingertips moved higher and higher, they made tantalizing swirling motions against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Another inch and he’d breach the hem of my already indecently short dress.
If Vaughn noticed my apprehension, he didn’t show it. His focus remained on the conversation with Miguel.
“What am I moving?” Vaughn asked .
Miguel shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I need to know what temperature to set the cargo compartments, so if there’s anything alive at the start of the trip and you want it to still be breathing by the end, then yeah, I need to know what I’m moving.”
Miguel took a puff on his cigar. “Women and drugs.”
“What’s my cut?”
“Five percent.”
“Twenty. There’ll be greedy palms I’ll have to grease in Cali.”
The negotiation continued, and Vaughn’s fingers drew ever closer to my panties. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, partly because I wasn’t sure how far he intended to take this, but also because—to my utter shame and embarrassment—I was turned on. No matter where we were and who we were with, Vaughn’s touch was more consuming than any external influence.
I flinched when the pad of his finger pressed against the damp scrap of silk between my thighs. My piercing stare bore into the side of Vaughn’s face. I wished I had telepathic powers so I could yell What in the actual fuck? But he only licked his bottom lip as though holding in one of his smug grins. The jerk knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“Fine. Ten,” agreed Miguel.
“I can work with that,” Vaughn replied.
Then a finger pushed my panties aside and slid across the drenched seam of my pussy.
I made a startled, high-pitched sound and clamped my thighs together, trapping Vaughn’s movements.
Suddenly, the room turned silent. My gaze landed on the other men. Each of them stared at where the table concealed my lower half as if willing it to become transparent.
With his free hand, Vaughn turned my face toward his. In a firm tone, he said, “You focus on me. You don’t look at anyone else in this room. Got it?”
I nodded, then remembered what was expected of me. “Yes, master.”
“Good,” he said with a disarming smile. “Now open your legs for me.”
A chair creaked when one of the men fidgeted. Someone refilled the whiskey glasses, but no one uttered a single word.
Chest heaving and heart pounding, I stared into Vaughn’s dark eyes, trying to understand why he’d ask this of me. Yes, he could be an ass, but I never imagined he’d be cruel to me in front of these men. Not without good reason.
Then it dawned on me. Maybe Vaughn was doing this because he wanted them distracted. My deer-in-headlights expression seemed only to build their excitement. This must be part of his plan.
He’d warned me I’d need to do things outside my comfort zone. He’d also told me I’d need to do exactly as he said. All things considered, a blow job under the table would’ve been far more degrading, so I figured I was getting off lightly.
Here goes nothing.
On a shaky breath, I relaxed and let my legs part a little.
Vaughn’s grin was positively predatory, and something about it sent tingles straight to my core. Judging by the hard rod pressing into the side of my thigh, he wasn’t unaffected, either.
Then his lips were at my ear. “Let them hear you,” he whispered only for me, then nipped my ear, making me flinch again.
Vaughn needed me to let go of my inhibitions. Could I really do that seated at a table with strange men? Maybe if I concentrated on Vaughn, I could pretend it was only the two of us in the room. Besides, the others couldn’t see anything going on below the table, only my reactions.
After sliding a finger through my wetness, Vaughn circled my clit with just enough pressure to make me squirm .
His gaze lingered on me for a moment before returning to Miguel. “Where were we?”
I tuned out their conversation and focused all my awareness on Vaughn. On his full lips, his strong jaw, and the macabre tattoos extending up his corded neck. On the broad, powerful shoulders I clung to and the taut muscles beneath his shirt. On the way each brush of his thumb against my clit made my hips roll, seeking a little more.
I gasped when one of Vaughn’s thick fingers entered me, plunging in well past his knuckle. He added a second and repeated the movement, in and out, curling his fingertips in a way that turned me to jelly. If the others had been in any doubt before, Vaughn’s thrusting motions coupled with my soft whimpering left no question about what was going on under the table.
But in my head, it was just the two of us. There was no one else in the room. And I was so lost to each sweet sensation that I couldn’t have stopped the deep, blissful moan I made when I tipped over the edge of oblivion. My forehead fell into the crook of Vaughn’s neck, and I panted against his warm skin, boneless and weary.
“Impressive,” Miguel said with a note of astonishment. “She responds to you well.”
“Yours doesn’t?” Vaughn asked as if it weren’t a rhetorical question.
El Capitán only grunted in response.
Vaughn clasped my jaw firmly and stared into my eyes. “My greedy little whore. You loved that, didn’t you?”
“Yes, master.”
His heated gaze shifted to my mouth. It was the way he usually looked at me right before pressing his lips to mine, but a gesture as intimate as kissing would give away the true nature of our feelings for one another.
“I’m too good to you.” He removed his hand from between my thighs and traced wet fingertips across my bottom lip. “Open.” When I did, Vaughn sank his middle two fingers inside. “Suck them clean. Don’t leave a drop.”
It was dirty. It was wrong, especially with these strangers watching. But the spark of excitement in Vaughn’s dark eyes forced another needy sound out of me as I followed his orders eagerly.
Vaughn groaned. “That’s a good fucking girl.”
“How much?” asked Miguel, and Vaughn glanced at him with one brow raised. “One night with her. What will it cost me?”
“I don’t rent out my property, and I don’t share.”
“Everything’s for sale for the right price.”
Vaughn removed a silver lighter from his pocket and flicked the lid back and forth as though he were giving serious consideration to Miguel’s offer. “Tell you what. Get me that meeting with Espinoza, and I’ll set you up with my sweet little Gatita here.” Vaughn shifted his thigh, sending me off-balance so I had to cling to him for support.
Miguel leered at me, and when his tongue traced his upper lip, I quickly looked away. Vaughn was bluffing, but it didn’t stop my stomach from churning at all the vile things this cretin might try if I were his for a night.
Miguel chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain, my friend. Once you deliver the cargo, stick around. Maybe I can arrange that introduction with the boss after all.”