Venice Nights (The Billionaire's Girlfriend Prequel)

by Ava Claire

  Isabella stomped out her cigarette in vicious, shallow jabs. “Not even a baby could pry him away from his precious Allegra. Allegra and I didn’t talk again until I broke down and asked her to speak to him for my little girl. My Lucia.”

  “Lucia,” I murmured sadly. “It’s a beautiful name.”

  She flickered a look in my direction and nodded. “She was a beautiful child. Born too soon.” She swiped at her cheeks again. “Taken too soon.”

  I could not even begin to fathom her loss. “Did you love Carlton?”

  Isabella pulled down the brim of her hat. “Does it matter? He made his choice—and it was Allegra.”

  I guess in the grand scheme of things, it did not matter.

  “And you and Allegra?”

  “What about us?” she said with a snort. “How could a friendship survive that? There was nothing left to salvage.”

  She talked tough, like she could care less, but the truth was in her voice. She lost three things: her daughter, her heart, and her best friend.

  She brought her eyes to mine, her lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t pity me. I don’t need your pity.”

  I saw right through the facade. Saw the broken, lonely women underneath. She stormed inside without another word and I leaned back, replaying everything she told me. Would things have been different if she never introduced Carlton to Allegra? Would he have learned to love her?

  I guess we would never know. One chance meeting, one look...and everything changed.

  I narrowed my eyes, suddenly understanding why she hated me so much.

  Out of a string of guests, women that came and went out of Jacob’s life, I was the exception.

  I was Allegra.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blanka looked down at the envelope I held out, her eyes bulging from her skull.

  A flash of guilt rippled over me. Poor girl—she’s probably thinking I am about to get her in trouble. Again.

  “All you have to do is hand this to Jacob,” I assured her. “That’s it.”

  She peered up at me skeptically. “Why can’t you give it to him?”

  It was a good question. Honestly, I doubted he would accept it from me. Every time I tried to have a conversation involving more than a few words strung together, he bolted from the room.

  That morning he uttered a few clipped sentences, telling me had a meeting in Venice all day, but would be home around eight. The first step had been taken, and we were talking again, but my smile was met with him leaving the room without another word.

  I had slumped in my chair, pushing eggs around my plate, trying to figure out a way to bridge the distance between us when it hit me. I would get the muddled mess in my head down on paper, and wait for him downstairs. He would read my words and know that I was trying, as hard as that was.

  Ready to submit to the difficult feelings that I had been avoiding.

  But Blanka had an important role to play. He could give me the brush off, but a letter coming from her would be harder to push away without being rude. I knew it was putting her in an awkward position, but it was the best chance I had.

  And she looked like she was seconds from bolting herself.

  She gulped, a nervous knot rising and falling in her neck. The nerve beneath her eye ticked wildly as she gingerly accepted the envelope. She shifted it from hand to hand like the weight of it was too heavy to bear. “Just give him this...that’s it?”

  “That’s it,” I said simply, flashing her a shaky grin. Her nervousness was starting to rub off on me. I had hatched a plan to fix things with Jacob, and had been running on adrenaline ever since. Her hesitation was making me question myself; face to face with the fear that it would blow up in my face.

  Lights glittered across the window pane.

  Jacob’s car...which meant there was no time to cajole her.

  “You know the turning point in chick flicks when one of the lovers does something drastic to fix something that’s broken?” I gestured at the letter she held. “That’s what’s in your hand. I’m trying to make things right with the man I love.”

  I was taking a risk, betting that someone who was a fan of Taylor Swift was a hopeless romantic. Hopeless enough that she would help me, in the name of love.

  I crossed my fingers.

  “All you have to do is hand him that letter and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  The sound of car doors opening and closing were magnified by the silence following my last ditch effort.

  Blanka took a step backward. My heart sank—then shot back to its rightful place when I saw the conspiratorial gleam in her eye.

  “I’ll give him the letter.”

  “Thank you so much!” I spun toward the stairs. “Stall him until I get to his office!”

  Blood roared in my ears as my feet slapped against the hardwood floor. I threw open the door, rushing to his desk. I bent down behind it, clueless as to what I was looking for. If I expected some button marked ‘Jacob’s Secret Lair’, I was disappointed. There was no button, no lever that would make the bookcase morph into a door that lead down to his playroom. My ears perked as muffled speech flowed through the open door downstairs. He was inside—and I was supposed to be in the room, waiting.

  Frantic, I ran my hand along the desk, stopping when I hit a notch in the wood beneath the drawer.

  There was a latch.

  I pulled it, grinning when the bookcase shuddered, sliding outward. I slid into the darkened stairwell, flying down the stairs.

  The playroom was colder than I expected, even from the amber glow of the lights above. The chilly air tickled my skin, and when I took in the items that surrounded me, a shiver of delight rushed through me.

  The impressive mantle was lined with candles. The Saint Andrews cross was perched against the wall. The black chest in front of it was unlatched, filled with things that could make me scream out in pleasure and pain. My eyes rested on the bed, the four mahogany colored posts stretching to the ceiling. The iron chains attached to each of the limbs called to me; the swing draping to the pillow top mattress. Waiting.

  I moved to the bed with slow, methodical strides, taking off the hoodie and pants that covered my slinky chemise. I gripped a post, leaning mg head against the cool steel as I remembered the words I wrote in the letter. Words Jacob was probably reading at that very moment.

  Jacob,

  You’d think that someone who carried a 4.0 GPA in every public relations course would know the right things to say. That’s our business, isn’t it? Always saying the right thing. Avoiding scandal..or if we’re dealing with the fallout, using words and actions to dig ourselves out of the hole.

  But when I’m around you, words come out wrong. I forget how to speak, how to string sounds together to make any real sense because I’m so in awe of you. So amazed that I’m yours, and you’re mine. So terrified that I’ll do or say the wrong thing and screw everything up.

  You asked me if I knew what I signed up for when I said I loved you. I said yes, but that wasn’t true. I had no idea that my whole life would become a headline. That privacy was no longer an option. I know that’s ridiculous. You’re Jacob Whitmore. I’ve seen proof with my own eyes that anyone linked with you has their faces plastered all over blogs and magazines. Hunted and hounded.

  But the fact that this could be my life, photographers following me around, asking me questions about you are in bed—I don’t think there is a way to prepare for that.

  But I do know that I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. I know that I’ve never felt so challenged, so much like my true self, as when I’m in your arms.

  As scary as the press and a life lived in the spotlight is to me, it doesn’t compare to how scary I know life without you would be. I don’t think saying yes to you was a mistake. I was made to love you, Jacob.

  I’m sure I’ll do and say things I don’t mean, but never doubt my love.

  Be patient.

  The door beside me creaked open.

/>   I stepped back. My heart lurched to my throat as I came face to face with the man I loved.

  Would he be patient? Was I worth the headache?

  His hair was windswept; the dark locks were tousled and shimmered against his golden skin. His eyes were the color of the brightest sky and when he opened his mouth and closed it, so moved with emotion that he was speechless, I saw the words of the letter swirling across his face.

  His face was unreadable as he folded the letter and strode to the bed, placing it on the nightstand. He did not look at me as he loosened his tie.

  "Be patient?" he said softly, pulling the silk from his neck and dropping it onto the bed.

  I swallowed hard, taking a hesitant step toward him. "Someone asked that of me once."

  He turned his head to the right, blue eyes soft as they landed on me. "Sounds like a smart guy."

  I grinned, reaching toward him and taking his hand. He did not pull away.

  "He has his moments," I wisecracked.

  "Funny thing, moments.” He brought a hand to my cheek, his fingertips stroking the line of my jaw. "I knew you were special the moment I saw you."

  I closed my eyes, relishing his touch.

  "And what about this moment?" I whispered, the gravity between us electric.

  "This moment is different," he answered, stepping closer. The heat in his body fanned the desire in mine. "Now, I know that special wasn't even close. You're everything to me, Leila."

  His fingers tangled in my hair; drawing me to my toes, bringing my lips to his. But he did not kiss me. His lips hovered mere inches from mine, achingly close, and painfully far away. His grip on my hair tightened, sending an echo of sensation along my scalp.

  “Say it again.”

  “S-Say what?” I was breathless, my eyes on the contours of his lips, needing to kiss him. Starving for his taste.

  “That you were made to love me.”

  His cock stirred against me, adding an erotic edge to the word. Love and lust collided, crashed into me in a beautiful crescendo.

  “I was made to love you.” Saying the words aloud turned my skin into gooseflesh. “I love you, Jacob.”

  He claimed my mouth. His lips, his hands, breathed into me, clutching my body to his. I tasted his need, his love, as his tongue thrust into my mouth. I moaned, the sound radiating through me as I locked my hands around his neck, arching my back. This kiss was the culmination of every word I wrote. A promise that I swore to keep. His hands cupped the sides of my face as his tongue slowed the rhythm of our mouths. It flicked over my bottom lip playfully and he slowly pulled back.

  Lust burned hot in his gaze as he looked down at me. “Why did you ask me to meet you down here?”

  I grinned mischievously, turning back to the four poster bed. I swung on one of the posts, my curls whipping around me before I stopped, standing before him. I loved the way he drank up my body in the chemise he picked out for me, the material like dark chocolate against my skin. His eyes were like his tongue, savoring the taste of my body.

  “Honestly?” I said finally. “I missed this room.”

  His lips curled into a devastating smirk. “The girl who couldn’t touch herself in front of me is willingly offering her body to me in a room filled with chains, whips, and a Saint Andrews cross?”

  “Mhm.” The warmth in my belly simmered lower. My core trembled, drenched with lust. “If it pleases you, I want to show you just how much I’ve changed.”

  His eyebrows quirked with interest. “By all means—show me.”

  I kept my eyes locked on him as I took a step backward, brushing against the edge of the mattress. I glanced to my right, gripping one of the chains. I wrapped it around my wrist and slid onto the bed. I spread my thighs, the cool air stroking my exposed flesh as his eyes drank me in.

  I drew a steadying breath, holding onto my climax, fluttering dangerously close.

  Not yet...not without his permission.

  Biting my lip, I plunged a finger inside. The sound of my flesh and juices filled my ears. Jacob’s face was awash with pleasure as he watched me pump my fingers in and out of my body.

  I was alight with sensation; the audience of his gaze forcing my fingers deeper, spreading my legs wider so I could take him with me. I wanted to feel him inside every part of me. Leave no secret unshared, no part of me untouched by him.

  When I strained, adding a third finger, he came close, hand at his belt. I stopped, worried I had been too bold and broke some unspoken rule, but the look on his face was not one of disapproval.

  “Don’t stop,” he said huskily.

  I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip, thrusting wildly. My hand that was bound by the chain sparked with slices of discomfort. It added to the intensity of the pleasure.

  He unbuckled his belt, the controlled movements of his hands contradicting the wild gleam in his eyes. His fingers said that he was composed and in no hurry; that he could watch me touch myself for hours and restrain himself. His eyes told a different story. They said he could not wait one more second to be inside me.

  I saw him in all his glory. His cock was swollen; rock hard, the personification of the feral look in his eyes.

  He blazed toward me, gripping my ankle and yanking me until both feet landed on the floor. The look in his eyes had spread across his face, lust changing the perfect marble structure into something fluid and sensual.

  He unhooked the chain from my arm, but he was not freeing me. His cock pierced my lower abdomen as he bound me properly, taking the chains from the post behind me, and wrapping them around my wrists. He stretched my arms above my head; my body laid out for him.

  He ran his hand down my thighs, yanking them open. He gazed at my core with such desire that I felt my bliss coming. I clenched my leg muscles tight, trying to maintain control.

  “Don’t hold back.” His voice was a whip; a beautiful lash across my body. “Understood?”

  “Yes sir,” I said hoarsely.

  He came forward, steering himself between my thighs. The head of his cock was poised at my entrance; his eyes shut like he was savoring the feel of my juices on him.

  He rolled his hips and filled me in a single, powerful thrust. I wanted to hold on to how he felt inside me. The feel of everything finally making sense. The desire. The safety. The passion. But his moans pulled me into the arms of my first climax. His thrusts grew savage and wild and he growled, “Mine” into my ear.

  I hurtled toward my second.

  Panting and nowhere close to done, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper inside me. His body tensed. He was close to his own release.

  “Come for me,” I whispered, looking up at him like he was my salvation.

  He threw his head back with a roar and my body clutched him, not letting go as we came together. Our bodies, our souls, connected.

  He pulled from me, unroping the chains from around my wrists. His eyes narrowed in concern as he stroked the indents left on my skin. In the heat of the moment, I had pulled at the restraints, causing the metal to cut into my wrists.

  He went to the nightstand, pulling a small container from the drawer. The smell of mint wafted around me as he gently stroked the cream on my aching flesh.

  “You should have used your color.”

  I smiled up at him, chest still heaving up and down. “I would have if I needed it.”

  Not exactly true. A runaway train could have crashed into the room, and I would not have said the word red.

  His eyes sparkled playfully. “You forget—I know you, Leila Montgomery.” He pulled me into his arms, close enough that I synced our heartbeats. Everything was as it was supposed to be...until the floor above us creaked.

  It reminded me that there was still something that needed to be fixed.

  A wary voice cautioned me. Isabella can’t even stand you—what can you do that Jacob hasn’t already tried?

  I propped my head on my palm, searching his face.

  He frowned. “Is everything all rig
ht?”

  I nibbled on my bottom lip as an idea popped in my head; an idea that was maybe bold enough to work. “With your help, maybe it will be.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Allegra waved wildly from the backseat of the cab, barely letting the driver pull to a stop before she lurched from the car.

  Jacob walked ahead of me, scooping her in his arms. I watched him with a smile on my face. He was different with her. Laughing with eyes crinkled at the corners, the ferocity usually found in the intense pools of blue a whisper. He spun her in a circle, his lips split into a boyish grin that made me want to take a picture. No one would believe the billionaire had a sense of humor developed enough to smile, let alone laugh, like whatever Allegra was saying was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

  Allegra gave him one last squeeze and met my eyes, waving me over. "I owe you one too!"

  She might be singing a different tune in a minute. Ignoring the stifling nervousness that this whole thing could go sideways, I focused on getting a good hug in. Either way, we were headed back to the States, and I had no idea when we would see her again.

  I squeezed tight, closing my eyes for good measure.

  Forgetting Jacob for a moment, she held my face in her hands, her olive eyes colored with concern. "How are you?"

  "I'm fine," I said with a wink.

  She glanced at Jacob over my shoulder, then steered me away from him, dropping her voice confidentially. "How are you really?"

  "I'm really fine," I assured her with a chuckle. I tugged at the scarf around my neck, feeling like my plan was scrawled all over my face from the way she had zeroed in on me.

  I cleared my throat, casting a look at Jacob. He nodded, coming forward.

  "You trash talking me, Al?" he joked.