The Billionaire's Girlfriend (BDSM Erotic Romance) (His Submissive, Part Five)

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The Billionaire's Girlfriend (BDSM Erotic Romance) (His Submissive, Part Five) Page 5

by Ava Claire


  "Let me finish," Jacob interrupted forcefully, but without the anger he'd been holding onto since dinner. It was like he'd been clutching this burden and was just exhausted and eager to let it all go.

  He glanced at me, his eyes softened. "Please."

  I gave him a long look and nodded. "Alright."

  "The tweet said something like, 'met someone and felt like cade for the first time in a long time' and when I read it, I saw your face." He inhaled deep and released it. "Before I met you, there was always this hole, this missing piece. And then there was you."

  Warmth rushed all over me, the ache in my chest whenever he was near expanding.

  "That's sweet, Jacob." I cautioned a smile and the side of his mouth twitched with his own as we moved closer to uptown. "But why would that piss you off? Because of damage control? I still don't get what any of that has to do with me."

  "Because he tweeted it almost immediately after he left the Whitmore and Creighton building." Jacob's voice changed, something in it exposed and raw. "I think he was talking about you."

  ****

  The first tip off that something fishy was going on should have been that fact that Natasha was all smiles when in the past the very sight of me was enough to make her physically ill. Regardless, I'd taken a deep breath and rapped on Jacob's door, running over the speech I'd been practicing all weekend.

  After the bucketful of awkward with Cade's tweet and my mother's overshare at dinner, we both agreed to take a few days apart to get our heads right. Truth was even after taking the weekend, my head was anything but. Even though I thought my exchange with Cade was totally innocent, Jacob's reaction and Cade's tweet had me replaying the conversation, wondering if anything I said could have been misconstrued. At any rate, I'd come up with a list of reasons why Jacob had nothing to worry about.

  1.) He was, well, Jacob. No one else could rob me of the ability to function with just a look. No one could make everything else fade except for the drum of my heart and the ache between my legs. And no one else could make me want to simultaneously do them physical harm and kiss their lips off.

  I smiled when the door was pulled open with number two on the tip of my tongue and when Missy, one of the staff publicists and ringleader of Operation Leila Sucks, was the one glaring back at me instead of Jacob, I forgot what number two was.

  "Missy? What are you-"

  "Jacob wanted to see me bright and early so we could go over Wallace's plan of action." She made sure she said every word like they'd been up to a lot more than business. But when I spied Jacob over her shoulder, he gave me a smile that dashed right through her transparent efforts. As soon as his eyes glittered deliciously, I knew that he was mine.

  He tapped the bluetooth at his ear and rose to his feet. My mouth watered at the thought of running my fingers over the buttons of his slate blue shirt and diving to the muscled abs beneath. I was sure it must have been all over my face because his brow arched with interest.

  Missy turned back to him, ignoring me altogether. "So where were-"

  "That'll be all," Jacob said abruptly. "I'll see you in the conference room in a little bit."

  When she slowly turned on her heel, her brown eyes round with disdain, I just couldn't help myself. "Jacob and I have lots to discuss. I'm sure you understand."

  Once we were alone, Jacob shook his head even though he was still grinning. "Marking your territory?"

  "Damn right," I took a step toward him then hesitated, remembering our argument. "About Friday night-"

  He perched on the edge of his desk and beckoned me with a finger. "Come here."

  I closed the distance between us, standing in front of him. "I just want to apologize-"

  "You have nothing to apologize about, Leila," he interrupted. "I'm the one that owes you an apology."

  I cocked my head to the side, feigning shock. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. It sounded like you said you owe me an apology."

  "Haha," he said sarcastically. He reached out and locked his fingers with mine. "Am I really that callous that you think me incapable of apologizing?"

  I scratched my chin, pretending to think about it. "I guess stranger things have happened." I moved closer, looking up into his eyes. "Like, who knew Jacob Whitmore could get jealous?"

  He traced my jaw, sending tingles up and down my spine. "You seem to have forgotten Tall, Dark, and Italian."

  I laughed, remembering taking Allegra's drop dead gorgeous to dinner and seeing Jacob's eyes boil with anger. This was different though, and we both knew it.

  "I was a dick," he said softly. "Just the thought of any man thinking about you, touching you..." His jaw flexed. "It's still no excuse."

  I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. I pulled back, fingering his buttons demurely. "Apology accepted."

  He murmured with approval and I was close enough that I could feel the stir of his arousal. "And I plan on calling your parents and apologizing for my behavior as well."

  "Not so fast," I said as I unbuttoned the first one. "You're still apologizing to me."

  He took my face between his massive hands and brought my lips back to his. I dropped my hand to his fly, but he ended our kiss and gently unhitched his belt from my fingers.

  “Make no mistake—I want you,” he said huskily. “But we have a meeting.”

  I pouted, not wanting to rein it in even though I knew he had a point. "After the meeting then?"

  He stood up and buttoned his shirt. "It's a date."

  I gave Natasha the biggest shit eating grin I could manage as I walked out at Jacob's side and she returned it with her own. I let go of it once we got to the elevator, instead, focusing on my game face. I'd never admit it out loud, but hearing that I had an impact on someone I'd pretty much idolized was confusing. The action loving fan in me wanted to shout it from the rooftops but my heart felt like a rag being wrung and twisted in my chest. Jacob was giving me sidelong glances and I looked down and realized I'd been tapping my foot.

  "Everything alright?"

  "Of course," I swallowed the golf ball sized knot in my throat. "Why wouldn't it be?"

  I followed him out the elevator, feeling the sweat explode at my temple and trying to regulate my labored breathing. Jacob pushed in the conference room first and I followed him, pulling on a brave face.

  When Cade's eyes met mine and his mouth broke into a grin, I felt ill. I stole a look at Jacob and watched every muscle in him tighten.

  Cade wore a red and black checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a tribal tattoo peeking out at the arm cuffs. When he completely ignored Jacob and shook my hand, I could have died right then and there.

  "Miss Montgomery," Cade’s voice rumbled, deep and smoky. "It's good to see you again."

  I just stood there, my lips parted but nothing coming out. The rational part of me screamed that it wasn't confirmation and meant nothing; he was just being friendly since we'd already met. But the other traitorous part of me was jumping about, staring at this celebrity who was looking at me like he was star struck.

  Jacob cleared his throat and I pulled my hand away. "Uh, Mr. Wallace, this is Jacob Whitmore."

  The two men exchanged a hearty handshake and then Cade pivoted back to me, winking. "I thought we decided you'd call me Cade."

  I felt the fire blazing from Jacob's eyes, turning both of us to ash and I looked down at the floor, feeling warmth rush to my cheeks.

  "I'm surprised that you fit me into your busy schedule Mr. Whitmore," Cade said, the bite in his voice ringing through the tension filled air. "Being CEO and all."

  "While I'd prefer to jump out of planes and fire blanks into stuntmen, my company won't run itself," Jacob said coolly still wearing a tight smile.

  I saw the anger flicker over Cade's face and I let out a weak chuckle and vaulted away from both of them.

  Missy and her assistant, Portia, were watching the whole thing with interest. I didn't need super hearing to pick up on the gist of what they were whis
pering because it was splashed all over their shocked faces. They didn't get what all the fuss was about.

  I swatted away that tiny voice that agreed. After all, both men had been photographed with beautiful women with modelesque frames and ridiculously perfect bone structure; women that I looked nothing like. But then I saw Jacob, staring intensely at a document. I knew that gaze. Those eyes held the same power I'd seen when he looked at me and told me that I was beautiful. His certainty was contagious and it reminded me of the indisputable truth I knew with every fiber: other women's attractiveness didn't make me any less so.

  I gripped two coffees from the Keurig and sat down beside Jacob, handing him one. He glanced up and said thank you. When I squeezed his thigh beneath the table, I saw one side of his mouth tug upward.

  The meeting was a brief one, with Missy doing most of the talking. While in town they'd set him up at the Today Show and the late night circuit, being interviewed about the film. Once we received any pertinent talking points from the studio, we'd include it in a press docket for him to review before he went live. Missy and Cade's assistant met for a moment, calling Jacob over for a question. Even several seats away I could feel Cade watching me. I pulled out my cell and tried to pretend I was the busiest person on the planet, keeping my eyes on the screen.

  "Leila, wait up!"

  I was a few feet from the door so I decided to pretend I didn't hear him and pushed into the hall. Unluckily for me, he followed.

  "Leila!"

  I stopped moving, my heart tap dancing in my chest as I slowly turned around. "Mr. Wallace! S-sorry, I just have a lot of things I have-"

  The man had tree trunk for legs and spanned the feet between us in two strides. He was close enough that I could see that all those muscles weren't photoshopped. I couldn't escape the alluring scent of soap and sweat and sandalwood and god, he was all man. I wasn't brave enough to look at him eye to eye and I still felt more vulnerable than I liked.

  I took a few steps in the opposite direction as goose bumps race up and down my arms. "If you have any questions, Missy would probably be a lot more helpful than me."

  "My question is for you."

  "Me?" My eyes snapped upward and I regretted it instantly because I couldn't look away from his olive gaze.

  "Yeah." He ran a hand through his sandy hair. "You wanna grab a cup of coffee sometime?"

  "A cup of coffee?" I parroted back, dread clinging to every word.

  "Or tea or ice cream or something else if that's not your thing." He scanned my face. "Are you ok? You look kind of green."

  I tried to smile and reassure him, but I was sick with worry and guilt. I still didn't know for sure if he was coming on to me and if I dropped the BF bomb and he wasn't, then I risked looking silly and possibly insulting him. But if I said yes, I had Jacob to deal with.

  So I lied.

  "We're not allowed to uh, fraternize with clients..."

  "I wasn't offering a moonlit walk on the beach," he joked. "I just..." His face went serious and he shut down, just like he had when talking about his history in the military. "Nevermind. I'll see you later."

  He walked around me and I watched him stalk toward the exit. He looked like a man marching to execution.

  My heels clacked on the floor as I raced to catch him. He was just as surprised as I was when I asked him a question.

  "Just a cup of coffee as friends?"

  ****

  I slipped out of the office a little early, being as vague as possible about my departure when Natasha grilled me like a warden. Jacob had been a meeting so I didn't have to face his questions, thank God. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be a fan of me grabbing a coffee with Cade, even if we’d both agreed it was strictly platonic. It would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?

  That's what I kept repeating over and over like a mantra as I stepped into The Roast. As soon as I smelled the fragrant aroma of coffee beans, it was like pulling on my favorite old t-shirt. The Roast was in a touch and go part of town and definitely qualified as 'hole in the wall'. Somehow they made it work, the peeling wall paint mixing with works of local artists and scuffed tables and armchairs barely holding onto their threads. I'd pretty much lived in the tiny shop during the months before I got the job at Whitmore and Creighton since they had free refills on large coffees and I could drain the well dry and use the wifi.

  I saw Cade tucked at a table near the back. Even though he was clearly packing in the muscle department, his slightly wrinkled chambray shirt and shaggy blond hair blended in with the surroundings. With gold strands of hair spilling into his eyes as he leafed through a paperback book, he looked like a bodybuilding hipster. I was the one that looked out of place in my silk blouse, couture slacks, and blood red pumps. It was only magnified by my slicked, bobby pinned hair. I debated ducking back to the bathroom near the door and at least taking my hair down. But Cade glanced up when he took a sip from his coffee mug and spotted me.

  I clutched my latte and walked over, trying to smooth out the nerves that had me close to spilling the contents all over the floor. I managed to sit down without making a mess or a fool of myself and swiped a hand over my forehead. "Hi! How are you?"

  "Glad that you showed up," he said, a teasing smirk on his lips. When I gaped at him with surprise he added, "I know you're dating Jacob. And even if I didn't know you were the 'secretary turned Cinderella' all over the rags, Jacob's territorial glares did the trick."

  I sat back in the seat, suddenly feeling a little less like Judas. "For the record, I'm a personal assistant, not a secretary."

  "My bad,” he said with a grin that said he was anything but. He gestured at my cup. "What's your poison?"

  "Mocha," I answered, bringing the rim to my nose and inhaling deep. "Extra shot."

  "White chocolate mocha here," he said, nodding with approval. "Two extra shots." He took a long sip of his coffee, swallowing hard before speaking. "You'll be a double shot-er before you know it."

  "Is that right?" I said, highly doubting it. My extra shot was pushing it--I’d be bouncing off the walls all night.

  I watched the jovial nature drain from his face like air from a balloon, replaced by a solemnity that reminded me of the quiet moments when he withdrew inside himself. Like when he was talking about filming A Soldier’s Creed and how he felt like a fake. Or when I first declined to get coffee.

  "This life isn’t easy,” he said after a moment. “It's hard being on the receiving end of those flashing lights. It drains pieces of you that you never get back."

  "It can't be all that bad, Cade,” I said. “Look at all the opportunities you get because you are Cade Wallace." I said his name in that movie preview guy's voice, trying to lighten things a bit. The tight line of his jaw did relax a little.

  "I guess you have a point. I have seen things and worked with actors and directors I idolized." He steered the conversation back to me. "How about you? Met anyone interesting while you’ve been in the biz?"

  "Besides you?" I thought about Rachel, remembering all the drama fit for a movie screen. "Nah."

  "And I'm sure I'm a disappointment."

  "Well, you're certainly more emo than I thought you'd be," I said, mixing equal measures of joking with truth.

  He laughed at that and it pushed away the rest of the storm clouds on his face. "Emo, huh? I've been called a lot of things, but that is definitely a first. Though god only knows what I'd find if I was brave enough to read comments section online."

  "Do not read the comment section online," I said after gulping down chocolatey goodness. "Like, ever."

  He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "I take it you found that out the hard way?"

  "It was definitely enlightening to find that complete strangers could call me ugly, uninteresting, and a waste of oxygen in one breath." Anger reignited in my gut as I remembered going further and further down the rabbit hole, my eyes glazing over as the list of reasons I wasn't worthy of Jacob lengthened.
Even though my sanity told me to step away from the keyboard, I just kept clicking through pages and pages of people who thought I was so out of Jacob’s league it was ridiculous.

  "Well that's the thing about the public; most of them are complete idiots." He shook his head. "On what planet are you ugly, uninteresting, or a waste of anything?"

  The heat of anger changed to a kind of shame. I didn't want him to think I was some weakling that stayed up at nights stressing over it. It hurt because duh, I'm human...but I was trying to not let their bullshit impact my identity or my relationship with Jacob. "You don't have to do that."

  "Do what?"

  I remembered my mother's sweet, slightly patronizing voice ringing in my ears after someone said something mean about my appearance when I was younger. “The whole, ‘You are beautiful in your own way’ thing."

  "In your own way?" He repeated, his mouth creasing into a frown. "You're beautiful in every way."

  I froze, my cup hovering inches from my lips. I didn't know what to say to that--or what to do with the feeling his words sent scattering over me. Either way, I had to make the lines clear as day.

  "Just so we’re on the same page-" I began.

  "It's just an observation." He held up both hands in defense. "Please don't sic Jacob Whitmore on me."

  I tossed my coffee stirrer at him with a laugh. "Jacob's about to be the least of your worries."

  His own laughter tapered off and he gave me a strange look before he picked up his drink and polished it off. “I’d be lying if I said I understand it though.”

  “Understand what?”

  “The female obsession with Jacob Whitmore.”

  I discreetly glanced to the right, then the left, then gestured for Cade to come close. I lowered my volume like I was about to share some top secret information. “Honestly? It’s the dreamy blue eyes.”

  “And what about my eyes?” He said it playfully, but his face was mere inches from mine and I could tell he was asking me a serious question. His warm, minty breath washed over me, fanning the heat in my cheeks.

 

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