Venice Nights (His Submissive #4.5)(10)
Author: Ava Claire

My lips worked, but no words came out. I was genuinely surprised he wasn’t giving me the ‘man up’ speech.

He leaned back in his seat. “My earliest memory of the paparazzi is going shopping with my mother.” He paused, eyes flitting to the tablecloth like he had second thoughts about a walk down Memory Lane before he focused back on me.

Always the pillar of strength. Ready to take anyone or anything on.

“The nanny was sick, and my father was out of the country, so she had no choice but to bring me along,” he continued. “I had my coloring books, so I was good to go. It was even a little fun, watching how happy it made her the more stops we made. The way her face brightened when she stood in front of the mirror and took her reflection in.

When we left the last store, there were a group for men with cameras, creating a barrier between us and the car. The driver was out, trying to make his way to us, but there were too many photographers. I gripped my mother’s hand just as a question rang out above the others: Where’s Carlton, Alicia? Is he with one of his whores?”

I shook my head with disgust. “I’m so sorry Jacob.” We were in the publicity business, and paps who went too far were part of the package—it still didn’t make those that forgot about the innocents on the other end of their harassment any less of an ass**le.

He shrugged a shoulder, almost selling the nonchalance, but I knew him. Despite his act of indifference, I saw that the experience scarred him.

“I was only six or seven, but I was afraid. It’s natural to be afraid that those flashes reveal things you don’t want to be revealed. They peer into dark places that you’d rather not bring to light.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And there are some photogs who would sell their kidney for a top dollar shot.” He reached for my hand. “I am truly sorry that you can’t enjoy your time here without wearing a disguise.”

“Well, eventually they’ll find something more interesting than me stuffing my face with food, right?” I said with a weak smile.

“Absolutely,” he said firmly. “It will get better, Leila.”

I clung to his hand, wanting to believe it. Needing to believe it.

Chapter Six

I stood at a safe distance from the windows, clutching my jacket tight around my body.

Jacob came back inside, locking the door behind him. “All’s clear.”

I eyeballed him skeptically. “There’s no photographers outside?”

He had abided my paranoia all afternoon, allowing me to squeeze his hand like a woman in labor and peeking over my shoulder every five seconds to ensure we did not have a tail.

It made conversation over lunch awkward to say the least. When he asked me if I just wanted to go home, I barely let him get it out before I said yes. Hurt darkened his gaze and he had said few words to me since, barely acknowledging my request for him to do a sweep of the property to make sure no one was hiding behind his perfectly landscaped hedges.

But his patience had limits.

He zeroed in on me, bright blue eyes narrowed and annoyed. “Generally, when someone says all clear, that means all is clear.”

I knew I should have apologized for second guessing him, especially considering he’d opened up to me, sharing a painful memory involving the paparazzi in an effort to let me know he understood where I was coming from. But he did not understand. Not really.

I bristled at his otherwise calm demeanor. He was completely unfazed…while I was quickly losing my mind.

I put a hand on my hip, glaring right back. “Maybe being stalked is business as usual for Jacob Whitmore, but I assure you it is maddening for a normal person.”

“Normal?” He arched an eyebrow, not saying a word for a long moment.

He snapped his fingers and I gasped at the unexpected sound, my heart skipping a beat.

“If you think it’s normal to be so on edge that you jump out of your skin when I snap my fingers, you are mistaken.”

I flipped my hair over my shoulder, masking my nervousness with a scoff. “You’ve been living with this your whole life. This is a whole new world for me.”

I turned in a circle, remembering the first time I walked through the door of the villa, doing the exact same spin. I had been in awe of the beauty of this place. The exposed wooden beams. The priceless vases and paintings. The effortless style that came easily to someone that had no budget.

Jacob’s villa was just as beautiful and breathtaking as before, but I was not wide eyed and innocent nor oblivious to what it all meant. Jacob and I were from totally different worlds.

“Tell me what’s going on in your head.” His deep voice roped me in, drawing me from my thoughts. Out of the clutches of fear. Face to face with the eyes I could not hide from.

“I’m just tired,” I said, walking past him toward the stairs. “I think I need a nap.”

“Do not mistake my tone for weakness.”

When I faced him, I knew I was in trouble.

His tie was balled in his fist, his kissable lips a brutal line of disapproval. He tilted his chin downward and dark hair swept across his forehead. His icy eyes held me in place.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

Indignation flared in my cheeks. Were we really doing this now? “Is this some BDSM thing? Because I can tell you right now—”

“You forget your place, Miss Montgomery,” he said coolly. “Don’t worry—that’s why I ‘m here. I know what you want. What you need.”

“What I need is…”

He released the hold on his tie, blood red silk dripping to the floor as he advanced. The look in his eye was one of carnal hunger. A look that rendered me unable to say anything but a single word.

“I…”

The smell of cloves, mint and his natural musk filled my nostrils. His eyes stripped me down and I quivered for him, brought alive and he had not even touched me. Oh, but he would—and he would make me regret crossing him…in the most delicious way.

“Turn around.”

His deep command went unchallenged, my heart quickening in my chest as I turned my back to him. The heat, the unbridled need he stoked in me, was enough to bring the fireplace before me cackling to life. He had an uncanny ability to make me moist with desire with a single look. To make me melt completely with the slightest touch.

Touch…I held my breath, waiting anxiously for him to touch me. To rake his fingers over my hot flesh. To spank me until the embers were flames that consumed me in equal parts pleasure and pain.