Venice Nights (His Submissive #4.5)(2)
Author: Ava Claire

Images of our car wrapped around one of theirs, a ball of unrecognizable metal and glass, made me sick to the stomach. I scrambled for my seatbelt, panic rendering my trembling fingers useless.

“Jacob,” I said, buckling my seatbelt. “You should do yours too.”

“Look at me, Leila!”

His roar filled the cabin of the car. I was surprised the driver did not slam on the brakes, giving Jacob his full attention too.

I faced Jacob, expecting fury to consume every inch of his face. Skin pulled tight in displeasure, darkened blue eyes narrowed; irritated shadowing of his perfect cheekbones, lips curled with displeasure as he bared clenched teeth. But he was as calm as he had been a few moments before, when he tried to convince me that everything was going to be okay.

He cradled my cheek, his touch warm and calming. “Breathe.”

My gasps were shallow and rapid, my head swimming. He held me, eyes urging me to copy the in and out of his relaxed breaths.

I gulped and tried, eyes locked on him and nothing else. My breaths slowed and the fears that drowned everything else dissipated. After a painful moment, my head rose above the water.

“Good,” he said gently, his thumb stroking my jaw. “Now, repeat after me—everything is fine.”

I licked my chapped lips. “Everything is fine.”

The driver made a hard right, confirming that everything was not fine. But we did not crash into another car.

We had stopped.

The lights that flooded the car dimmed and I looked out the back window. Traffic zoomed past and for a second, I thought we had lost them—until I recognized one of the paparazzo’s sedans shuddering at the curb a few feet away.

I turned back to the front, eyes shooting to the left and the right, taking in our dark surroundings. We were in the parking garage.

After the driver swiped his card and security validated his credentials, we pulled further into the structure, putting more distance between us and the cameras. My heart still raced, but I let out a sigh of relief as we drove upward. Each level slowly ticked by until I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

A helicopter was perched on the roof, waiting in the middle of the parking lot. A beefy looking man stood beside it. The driver parked the car a few feet from the helicopter.

“Ready to go?” It was a rhetorical question because Jacob had already climbed out of the car. I had no choice but to follow.

I followed him, my heart rising in my throat when I met the eye of the driver. He waited for me to straighten myself, then dutifully extended my purse. I wanted to hug his neck, but he looked as rattled as me. I just thanked him, looping the purse strap over my shoulder. Jacob shook the driver’s hand and paid him a tip that I hoped made up for our near death experience.

The burly man beside the helicopter wore a black t-shirt and matching slacks. Wind gusted around us and whipped his long, ink black hair in front of his chiseled face. It didn’t hide dark eyes. They were piercing and bottomless. I had a feeling he could more than handle any paparazzo who might have followed us.

“Mr. Whitmore,” he said gruffly. He nodded at me. “Signorina.”

“How long until we arrive at the villa?” Jacob asked, tugging his tie loose.

“Thirty minutes, Mr. Whitmore. Unless there are other stops to be made.”

“No,” I said quickly, drawing surprised looks from both of them. My cheeks warmed as I pulled my jacket tighter around my body. “I just want to go home.”

Jacob’s lips curved into an approving smile. He knew I did not mean back home in the United States. Home was wherever he was.

He nodded at our escort. “No stops.”

The dark haired man went to the front of the helicopter where the pilot was waiting.

Jacob extended his hand to me. “Ready?”

I took it, but my steps were hesitant. “I-I’ve never been in a helicopter.”

“I’ll be right beside you.”

I put aside the nerves and gripped his hand as I followed him inside the helicopter. I ducked my head as I squeezed into the confined space. I listened intently as the pilot explained safety and illustrated how to buckle up properly. He handed Jacob and I headsets. I gingerly put mine on, reclaiming Jacob’s hand immediately.

The entire helicopter vibrated, the propellers whirring. I could still hold a conversation with Jacob or one of the others, but I was too busy taking it all in. We flew over the city, the buildings like toys beneath us, the roads and cars microscopic. I could not pinpoint Rachel’s hotel.

Ground zero, I thought glumly.

Maybe that was a good thing. This helicopter ride was one of the reasons I had been jittery with excitement when I first learned I was going to Italy. I was finally seeing the country from a view that photographs would not do justice. I was taking a step outside my comfort zone.

I squeezed Jacob’s hand excitedly as the crystal water stretched on before us, the helicopter kissing the edge where historic buildings looked out into the blue. Sun sparkled like diamonds on the surface of the water.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, finally relaxing and remembering the beauty of this place instead of focusing on my colossal screw-up in front of the press.

“You’re beautiful,” Jacob said, looking at me like I gazed at the scenery. Like nothing on Earth was as beautiful or as precious to him.

Tears started in my chest, my heart filling with so much love for him. They pricked my eyes, and my nostrils flared as I tried to keep it together.

His face darkened with worry, misreading my reaction. “Are you all right?”

I leaned in, knowing the only way to calm his worries. My lips gripped his, tongue diving into his mouth with a hunger only he could sate. When I pulled back, lust swirled in his eyes.

“Kisses like that may get you in trouble,” he said, need darkening every word. Promising me toe curling things.

I brought my hand to the erection tenting the crotch of his pants. “I’m counting on it.”

Chapter Two

We touched down in knee high grass, Jacob’s villa standing massive and beautiful on the lush Italian countryside. Once the helicopter powered down I could hear myself think, I sent Jacob a message with my eyes. The propellers and electronic whirring could no longer quiet the need that screamed in my head.

I wanted him.

The word ‘want’ did not do the desires inside me justice. I wanted to put my feet on solid ground. After five minutes in the air, oohing and aahing over architecture, I made the mistake of thinking about how far up we were. How far I had to fall if something terrible happened.