The Billionaire’s Passion (His Submissive #3)(6)
Author: Ava Claire

"Oh it was no trouble at all," she said flippantly. "Just a little call here, a little text there." She shrugged her shoulders. “You know how it goes.”

"You should watch it, Rachel," I said feeling anger grip my throat. "Jealousy isn’t a good color on you."

"Jealous of what?" she said with a snort. "From the picture I saw, who would be jealous of an ass with so much cellulite that it could be mistaken for the surface of the moon?"

My nostrils flared and holding my peace was getting harder by the minute. But I knew that was what she wanted. A reaction. "I just want to hear you say that it was you."

"What was me?" she said innocently, her false lashes fluttering around her olive eyes.

"The picture, Rachel."

"What picture?" She gave me a look full of contempt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

"What picture indeed."

Just the sound of the deep timbre of Jacob’s voice was enough to send shivers down my spine and almost make me forget the issue at hand. Almost.

Rachel’s face broke into the first genuine smile she’d worn all day. "Jacob!”

Before they even got into it, I squeezed from between the two of them. It was hard enough to stomach Rachel, but Rachel making googly eyes and Jacob pretending like nothing went down between them? Nope.

"I’ll let you guys play whatever game it is you’re playing," I said softly. "I think I’ve had all the fun I can take for one day." I tossed one last glare at Rachel. With her perfectly made up face and designer dress, she looked just like a mannequin in some department store. Beautiful on the outside, but hollow underneath. "You’re not worth it."

"Those pictures going live on every gossip blog in the world no doubt will be. Priceless even," Rachel snapped behind me. "I knew brushing shoulders with a photographer or two would come in handy."

My fingers hardened to ice around the door handle. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe out of fear it would come off in my hand. I knew she’d done it, but hearing her say it so carelessly was a whole other animal.

"Leila." Jacob was several feet away, but I felt his voice, soothing and firm, trying to keep me from losing it.

My breath caught and I swallowed before I breathed deep and let it go, letting the flow stop me from hulking out. "You are one classy broad, Rachel Laraby."

"It must be nice up there on that high horse," Rachel goaded me. "You should have a great view of the curve of your ass."

Breathe, Lay. Just breathe. I stepped out of the conference room and let the door thud closed behind me.

The small corridor outside the conference room got foggy, tears of frustration clouding my view. I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, clad in a designer blouse and skirt, sharing my bed with one of the hottest, wealthiest men in America, but when my eyes closed I was back at PS 91. I was huddled in the bathroom, crying because I didn’t feel as pretty as the other girls because of my wild, untameable curly hair. Because I wasn’t as thin.

I knew Rachel was bullying me, just like those girls in my class had. Relentlessly. Without regard of the long term effects.

“You’re an adult now,” I whispered, trying to get a handle on my shaking body. But there was no denying that Rachel’s words and actions cut as deep as the insults those bitches threw at me all those years ago.

"Are you okay?"

The husky voice was beside me and I gave my head a shake, forcing a smile as I held my tears fast. "I’m fine."

And I was. I would be. I just wanted her to admit it. To admit that even though she had more money than she could spend in several lifetimes, she was morally bankrupt.

And then there was Jacob. I looked into his face, the face I’d stared at in dozens of magazines and blog posts. Into the eyes I used to think were as deep and endless as the ocean. Lost in the lips I never imagined would kiss my own. I’d done things with him, the most intimate thing one could do with another person. But he was still a mystery.

"About the pictures," he began.

"Let’s don’t and say we did." I took a step away from him but he put his arm on the wall, blocking me in. "I get it, Jacob. She’s got megabucks and that’s what it would take to squash pictures. An all star client. X-rated pictures would bring a lot of drama. A lot of headache." I tried to move but he still didn’t budge. The proximity of him was muddying up all the reasons why I should walk away before I fell any harder. "Please just let me go, Jacob." I forced my eyes up and met his, biting my lip. "It’s okay."

"It’s not okay," he said adamantly. He moved his hand from the wall, gripping my shoulders instead. It wasn’t a thing of control, or trying to bend me to his will. I hadn’t even been sure there was an us until I looked at him in that moment. His expression, the fear that colored his eyes. Jacob was worried I would leave. He was asking me to stay.

I managed a nod and I felt him relax. His sure hands ran up and down my arms, his touch piercing through to my skin beneath. Piercing my soul.

"I’m…" The word trailed on forever and I knew another word was meant to be tacked onto the end. A word that I’m sure he’d never, ever said aloud.

This was a big deal for him–but I wasn’t letting him off that easy.

"You’re what?"

He gave me that stubborn look, his jaw locked, eyes narrowing to obsidian slits.

I waited.

He hung his head then stood up tall. "I’m sorry for this morning. I didn’t think about the implications of the pictures." He raked a hand through his hair. "I mean, in the past, some enjoyed the notoriety."

I pursed my lips. "Well if you think I’m the kind of girl that would-"

"I don’t," he interrupted gently. He brought his hands to my cheek, his touch sending electric jolts through my body. "When I said you were different. I meant it." He leaned in close and there was no longer personal space. The smell of mint and power cocooned me. There was nothing but Jacob. There was nothing but this moment.

He leaned in, hovering just before my lips and I breathed him in with a shudder before he pressed his mouth against mine. This was more than hunger, more than sex; I felt all the words that were too hard for a man like him to say and the fact that his lips were screaming how sorry he was. How much he needed me. Guarding my heart would be impossible now. When he pulled back, his eyes tinged with mischief, I knew he already had it.

"I took care of the pictures," he said after a moment, straightening his tie. "Every single one."