The Billionaire's Secret (BDSM Erotic Romance) (His Submissive, Part Six) (7 page)

“Canceled?” His blond eyebrows drew together in confusion, but it only lasted for a minute. “Is this Lisa? Because I told her--”

“This isn’t Lisa, this is me,” I said firmly. “And as a representative of Whitmore and Creighton--”

“A representative?” he scoffed. “That’s all you are to me, huh?”

“Yes, that’s all I am.” My filter must have been on a mojito fueled vacation because I gave it to him straight. “Once upon a time, back when you were just a hot guy in movies where things went boom, I fantasized about you. I wondered what it would be like to meet you. To know you. But this?” My face creased in disappointment as I gestured at the mess. “I’d give anything to go back to the fantasy. I’d give anything to go back to you just being an amazing actor that I put on a pedestal. Because the guy standing in front of me is pretty pathetic.”

He was quiet, his face drawn and blank.

I let out a hiss of frustration. Of course he was too trashed to comprehend what I was saying, so I needed to keep stuff short and straight to the point.

“Interview is canceled.”

I gave the room another glance then stepped toward the door. “We’ll have to apologize to the staff some other time.”
With one hell of a swag bag
, I thought, making a mental note. “Let’s get you in a cab and--”

“Today’s the anniversary.”

I looked back at him and froze when I saw his eyes were filled with tears.

“I killed her. Seven years ago today.”

I had to have misheard him. Even if I hadn’t, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear more. That privilege stuff was for lawyers and priests.

I pretended that I didn’t hear him, maintaining a safe distance. “Let’s get you home, Cade.”

“I was everything to her,” he trailed on, trudging back to the mirror, gazing into it like he hated who was reflected back at him. “She was just a pretty face to me. I didn’t love her. I mean, if I loved her, I would have written her more when I was in the sandbox instead of putting my dick in every piece of pussy I could find.” He punched the top of the vanity, making me jump. “I didn’t care about the mission or making a goddamn difference. I just cared about myself.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat, thinking, knowing he was about to tell me something horrible. “Cade--”

“She used to say that she couldn’t live without me, that she’d rather die than be alone. Some guy in my platoon with a conscience told her about what happened.” He shook his head. “I thought I was the shit. Like she should have been honored that I decided to stick it out with her. And the other girls? That was just the price she had to pay to be Mrs. Cade Wallace.

When I came back from my tour, she was different. Quiet. But I was still so hung up on myself that I couldn’t see her slipping away. Didn’t see it until it was too late and I...I...I found her.” He gasped, like he was back there. Back in that place. “I found her in the bathtub.”

He didn’t say any more than that but I filled in the blanks. Suddenly his comments about meeting the soldier and feeling like a fake, shying away from his military service, it all made sense.

“I’m not a hero. And I have no right to play one, or profit from it,” Tears lashed down his face. “How can I sit across from that desk and act like one? Act like I’m worth a damn?”

After a day of being on top of the world, feeling like I could take on anything on, I looked at him and felt completely and utterly useless. I couldn’t even begin to relate or understand what it would be like to find my significant other dead at their own hand. Even with this massive, giant of a man brought low, sobbing uncontrollably, I would never truly know what he was going through.

I went to him, my hand hesitating a few inches above his back as Jacob’s face flashed through my mind.

You’re a fixer
, I thought firmly.
You’re not cheating if you’re just trying to help your client.

His tears stopped as soon as my hand made contact. He closed his eyes, his heavy breathing slowing as I stroked his back, telling him it wasn’t his fault. Telling him everything would be okay.

He opened his eyes, a smile playing at his lips, then wavering when he turned and looked at what he’d done. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” I smiled up at him, glad that he was sobering up and shared something so personal. So raw. Maybe someday, if he could respect my relationship with Jacob, we could be friends after all.

I opened my mouth to tell him it was time to leave before they called security and he rushed forward, taking my face between his massive hands. Before I could react, he slammed his mouth into mine. The kiss couldn’t have lasted longer than a heartbeat. A blink of an eye.

He pulled back almost immediately, remembering himself. And after a stunned moment where it sunk in and I realized what he’d done, my hand sliced toward his cheek.

He caught it easily, his mouth working as he tried to apologize, but it came out as gibberish. “I...uh...didn’t...I meant...sorry--”

I yanked my arm from his grip, speaking in some mishmash language myself. “You...Jacob...can’t...BASTARD!”

I wanted to lunge at him, to pummel him with both hands, but I knew I was no match. I had to leave. I had to just GO.

I turned around and faced the cherry on top--Lisa standing in the doorway, her mouth an O of surprise.

I shoved past, seeing red as blood roared in my ears. I had to get out of there. I had to get out now.

****

"I'm going to kill him."

When I looked at Jacob’s face, I didn’t see a trace of any emotion besides determination. The stoic mask was all machine with one purpose only--ending Cade Wallace.

I stepped in front of him, barring the exit. "Don’t do something you’re gonna regret."

"You told him you were attached and uninterested and he took it as an invitation." Jacob started rolling up his sleeves. "Get out of my way, Leila."

This was escalating to Crazy Town. "Okay, so you’re going to go to his apartment and challenge him to a duel or fight or whatever. And what are we supposed to do when the reporters snap pictures of your face?"

"My face?" He snorted. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I'm sure they'll be more concerned with Cade's broken nose."

I didn't move, even though I was sure a slight breeze would have knocked me out flat. I couldn't believe that he was willing to create a whole new scandal and go toe to toe with Cade just to protect my honor. It was sweet but I couldn’t let it go down.

"I'm not going to let you do this," I said firmly. "Not for me."

"I guess it's a good thing I don't need your permission then."

I knew I could tell him about Cade’s wife and it would at least chill his blood and give me a chance to convince him to let it go, but I felt like it wasn't my secret to tell. Still, there was another part of me that knew that picking and choosing what I thought Jacob should know wasn't fair to him.

I inhaled sharply, praying that I wasn't just making things worse.

"I found out something personal. Something that I think explains why he did what he did."

He shifted, but didn't stand down. "I'm listening."

"Apparently Cade was married, back when he was in the military." I didn't feel like his...extracurricular activities were relevant, so I got to the point. "When he came home from a tour, his wife committed suicide."

Jacob's stony expression softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "What does that have to do with the kiss?"

“He was feeling vulnerable, Jacob,” I tried to explain. “And he was drunk. Is drunk. From the way he reeked, he’s going to be drunk for days.”

He relaxed slightly and I felt a little better. I’d been up front, one hundred percent honest, and there was no brawl. I guess this whole straight up thing was a good idea after all.

Jacob turned to me, his forearm muscles flexing as he crossed his arms. "The thought of him touching you, kissing you…" His eyes flashed, the heat of his gaze flaying me alive. "You're mine."

I brought my hand to his cheek. "And you're mine."

His body tensed and his gaze flickered to the door. Clearly, he was still considering paying Cade a visit.

“Jacob, please,” I whispered. “Don’t.”

The cold anger melted immediately as he wrapped his arms tight around me, putting aside his righteous fury. “I’m not going anywhere, Leila. Not ever.” He pulled back, tilting my head up so he could gaze into my eyes. “You want me to let this go?”

“Yes,” I sighed, just wanting to forget it. “Just stay.”

“Okay.” He leaned in like he wanted to kiss me, but decided better of it. Like I was traumatized and he didn’t want to shove me off the ledge. That tenderness, his concern did push me over, but not in the way he expected.

I hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him back to my lips. This was what I wanted. What I needed with every fiber of me.

I thrust my tongue into his mouth, begging him to taste me. A moan sounded in the back of his throat as he brought me close, flush with his body until I swore I could feel his beating heart pulsing all over me. My tongue desperately danced around his and I swear nothing had ever tasted so sweet.

There would be time for making love, for rose petals and longing gazes, but right now, I just wanted him to spread me wide and plunge himself so deep that I was breathless. I existed for him; for his touch.

I undid his pants with one hand and surprise flitted across his eyes and smirked his lips. The smirk became something else when I reached into his trousers and gripped his erection. It became something lustful and wild.

I stared into his eyes, lust running rampant in oceans of blue. God he was gorgeous, unraveling as my fingertips danced over every glorious inch of him. His hips bucked ever so slightly as I stroked him through his pants.

With a groan he covered my hands with his own, stopping me. “Take it out.”

Every corded, delicious muscle of him made my mouth water and I obeyed. Only a pair of ebony boxer briefs kept me from him and he tented the dark fabric. His cock begged for my touch, even if the man himself would never, ever beg anyone for anything.

And why would he? I would have begged if he pumped the brakes. But he didn’t grip my wrists or stop me from running my hand up and down his massive length, tingling from head to toe as he grew and bulged even from my slight strokes.

I sucked in air when I felt him pulse around my grip, watching his mouth tremble before he bit his bottom lip, holding back. When I brushed my thumb over the tip, the delicate lust seeping from his head, all bets were off and he let out a moan of abandonment, throwing his head back. His rolling hips promised what came next and I was breathless with anticipation.

“Take off your clothes,” he growled. “All of them.”

As much as I hated to remove my hand, I wanted more and that would be slightly complicated considering I was still fully clothed. My hands fell to my liquid leggings and I cursed choosing them because they refused to move at the same pace as my pulse. As need ricocheted over me, I let out a cry of frustration at the material, practically glued to my heated flesh. It refused to go further than my hips.

Jacob came forward, his fingers firm as they gripped the pants. His hooded eyes were dark with want as he brushed his lips against mine. He lowered himself until he was eye level with my waist and his lips pressed against my stomach, kissing my skin. Suddenly, I was just fine with the pants staying where they were and his mouth caressing my abdomen, making me squirm for him.

But he was multi-tasking, his hands peeling the pants down inch by blissful inch until they were at my ankles and only my thong lie between his mouth and my pulsing heat. He hooked a finger through each side of it, sliding the underwear over my hips and down. He didn’t even wait for me to step out of them before his tongue scored my throbbing flesh.

I tried to step out of the thong so I could spread and give him more access, but his arm roped around my waist, holding me still as he kept teasing. I opened my mouth to beg, to plead but sensing it, he rose up without a word. He led me to the midnight colored chaise that overlooked the terrace.

He leaned back onto the chair, gripping the base of his erection. It was hard to believe that a month ago the very idea of riding a guy made me break into hives because I kicked my leg over and took the base from him without prompting, slowly guiding him inside. His hands found my breasts, massaging and tugging my mounds. I drew him in and out, rolling into him as I moved my body to the tune of his moans. I felt nothing, needed nothing but him. I knew he was coming, I felt it in the way his grip tightened.

“Come with me,” he breathed.

Hands, bodies, bliss—I felt the building pressure and surrendered to it. My hips rode the waves of passion until the water stilled. Even with my heart raging in my ears, I felt at peace. Like we were finally getting back to the way things were before.

I was on top of the world when he ripped me from the stratosphere, kicking and screaming.

“You’re off the Wallace case.”

I’d heard him, but I just couldn’t believe he would go there when we were still naked and glistening with sex. “What?”

“I don’t want you working with Cade Wallace.” His voice toughened, leaving no room for debate. “You’re off the Wallace case.”

I had protests, the first being our agreement that my career would be my own. But it was clear that I couldn’t be effective at my job if the client didn’t respect my boundaries.

I traced a figure eight on Jacob’s chest, my cheek catching the stillness of his body beneath me. It was like he was holding his breath. Gearing up for a fight.

“Alright, babe,” I said finally. “I won’t work with him anymore.”

****

My phone zinged to life on my desk and I picked it up, cradling it between my shoulder and ear as I finished sending my email.

“Can you do me a favor?”

No ‘hello’ and no ‘please’. It was one of two people. The frigid chill that was signature Natasha was replaced by sugar and caramel drawl which meant it had to be Missy Diaz.