Home > The Billionaire's Past (His Submissive #10)(14)

The Billionaire's Past (His Submissive #10)(14)
Author: Ava Claire

“I’m not a good mother, I know that. But Carlton--”

I brought up a hand. “Stop right there. Carlton Whitmore was a prick when you met him. You admitted as much. You said he even told you he was bad news. Maybe you were trying to get attention from your parents, feeling adventurous, whatever, but you made the choice to be with him, Alicia. I’m not sorry you did because Jacob is alive because of it and I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s a great man in spite of you and your husband. He is the only thing that matters to me. Not your sad love story.”

“I’m trying to explain that Carlton is the reason--”

“NO!” I snapped, bringing a fist down hard on my desk. The sound was like a gunshot, quieting her. Even I paused for a moment, surprised I’d done it. “You are the reason, Alicia. Your husband cheated because he was horrible, but YOU enabled him by not leaving. You made the choice to stay in an unhappy marriage and bring a child into your messed up reality. You made the choice to punish the son for the sins of his father.

Carlton is dead...he can’t atone for what he did. But you’re alive and kicking and instead of starting over with your son and trying to be the mother he deserves, you’re, well, you.”

She locked her jaw, still not hearing me. “I know how this looks from the outside--”

“No you don’t. I swear you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t be in my office right now trying to explain yourself to me,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’d be explaining yourself to your son.”

If nothing else reached her ears and really sunk in, I hoped it would be that. Hearing about her past, her hurt, it helped me piece together the things that played a role in the woman she’d become. But none of that mattered to me in the long run. Jacob mattered. Her sob story was just that--a river of tears about a society girl who fell for a bad boy. The only thing that made it worth listening to was that they had a child. Jacob.

They could have sat down and determined that they weren’t in love and subjecting their child to their unhappiness wasn’t fair to him, but that conversation didn’t happen and Jacob paid the price. He was the one that grew up thinking that his parents didn’t care about him. If Alicia was being honest and there was love there, he deserved to hear that. Not me.

But Alicia didn’t even flinch.

She rose to her feet. Chin up. Ice on. “Thank you for your time.”

The anger erupted as I hurled a folder at the door as it clicked closed behind her, watching the papers flutter lazily to the floor.

Section Eight

I stood a few feet from the elevator, so excited I felt like I was gonna explode. The doors slid open.

“Surprise!”

His eyes drifted downward, taking in the new piece of furniture I was sitting on, his mouth quirking into a smile. "You brought Mia Kent on as a client. I should be surprising you." The smile broadened.

He really liked it.

A brand new spanking bench.

His briefcase was discarded unceremoniously as he circled the thing. Since I ordered it online, I knew I ran the risk of falling in love with something underwhelming and cheap in person, but the pictures didn’t do it justice. The mahogany was rich, the dark stain giving it a sleek, modern edge. The plush leather cushion had a sloping design that catered to a woman’s curves. Sterling silver hooks hung below it, waiting for rope or handcuffs or whatever bondage material that tickled one’s fancy.

He leaned down, brushing the material, still digesting what stood before him. “You bought this? Had it delivered and assembled?”

I nodded demurely. “Something for us.”

Jacob’s stony face reaction when I told him about meeting with his mother flashed in my head. I gave the woman the benefit of the doubt, wrongly assuming her conscience would have led her to at least talk to her son instead of putting me in an awkward situation. She hadn’t even stopped by his office after paying me a visit, leaving me to tell Jacob that she felt comfortable baring her soul to a stranger that she hated instead of her flesh and blood.

But my exhaustion was more than mental and emotional. Mia made me work for that signature, calling me all hours of the night because she wanted coffee. Wanted to go to some hipster store after hours. Wanted some impossible dish at 2 in the morning. I could barely keep up, but after I got over the slight annoyance at her wearing out my cell, I loved it. Hearing about her past. Sharing my own. It was like having a little sister. But getting her to agree on becoming a client was the easy part. Now it was time for the hard work of rebuilding her career.

I looked up at Jacob, his eyes bright as a kid’s with a shiny new toy. Tonight wasn’t about his mother or Mia or anything else but the two of us. Tonight was about submission.

I was ready. My hair was down, wild and free the way he liked it. I had nothing on other than a ruby red lacy chemise that made my skin look rich and supple. He picked up the cuffs I had sitting on the cushion beside me, just waiting to be secured around my wrists. And my body? He hadn’t even touched me yet and I trembled. My br**sts ached, ni**les swollen against the sultry material that bound them. Goosebumps spread with every breath I took. My core clenched when he stepped closer. I was already so wet, so ready that I was surprised I didn't slip right off the bench.

He tugged his tie loose, eyes drinking me in nice and slow. “The bench is lovely, Leila.” I closed my eyes as his fingers sifted through my curls. “You’re lovely.”

I knew he thought I was beautiful. Found my curls and curves sexy. He could barely keep his hands off me in the morning when my hair was sticking out all over the place and I wore the ratty t-shirt that hugged me in ways that used to make me feel self-conscious. But lovely meant something else tonight. I saw it shining in his eyes as his fingers drifted to my cheek and he traced my jawline, hitting the edge but repeating it like he couldn’t bear to stop touching me. Lovely had nothing to do with what was on the outside. He saw what was beneath. He saw me.

He raised my chin and took my lips in his, his tongue melting against mine. The ache between my legs grew and he paused, smiling against my lips. He could read my body like an open book.

“I want to see you.” His voice deepened, the timbre making my core clench with recognition. His bedroom voice. Low. Sensual. “All of you.”

I went to yank the straps down, caution and decorum fading as I let my lust take the wheel.

Jacob’s hand covered mine, stopping me. “Slowly.” His tone had hints of amusement as he released me and stood back. “We have plenty of time and plenty to do, Leila. Take it easy.”

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