The Billionaire's Trust (His Submissive, Part Eleven) (5 page)

“And you shouldn’t, until you’re
ready.” She was rolling her shoulders back, stepping back into her
take-charge persona. “I should respect you. I should have respected
you all along and we might have been going dress shopping today
instead of crying in a parking garage.”

I cracked a smile. “Jacob and I
should probably decide what kind of wedding we want before we do
any dress shopping.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t
talked about your wedding?”

“Nope,” I confirmed, twitching a
shoulder. “He knows about my dream thing thanks to Meg, but I don’t
know about his or what he wants.”

“Still want to do something small
and beach-y?” she winked.

My cheeks heated. The only thing
that kept me from dying on the spot when Megan revealed my dream
wedding was the fact that the only proof ended with her. I’d have
to clear that stuff out of my desk the next time I was at the
house.

“I’m not worried about the beach
part. The small part is what’s important to me.”

“I’m sure Jacob would be
understanding,” she said reassuringly. “You should have heard the
conversation your father and I had.

--I want to do it at a church.
Something big and dramatic.

--Okay.

End of story,” she finished with a
chuckle.

I smiled weakly. Besides the fact
that my dad usually gave into my mom about most things, it wasn’t
that surprising that he just went along with it. But I didn’t want
Jacob to shrug and just say whatever I say goes. I wanted him to
want
to do something special. Something romantic that we
could both look back on years later and remember how special it
was. Uniquely us. Something we could build forever on.

Mom cocked her head, her expression
soft as she studied me. “You want him to be involved.”

I nodded.

“And you want his mother to be
un-involved.”

“Well, maybe not completely...”
That was a bald-faced lie. I cleared my throat and tried honesty on
for size. “Yes. I don’t want her involved.”

She settled in her seat. “And I’m
guessing you're nervous about having that conversation with
Jacob?”

I nodded a second time.

She let out a ‘hmmm’, nodding
slowly. “Having uncomfortable conversations is part of being in a
successful relationship. Especially if it’s regarding something
like this that you can’t take back. I’m assuming you just wanna do
this once,” she said with a hint of teasing in her
voice.

There was more to this than she
knew. Like the reasons we fell out with Alicia. Why I still didn’t
want her to be a part of the planning process, even after her
apology. I had a feeling Mom wasn’t her biggest fan already and
that would just fuel the fire, so I kept her in the dark and
managed a, ‘You’re right’.

I could tell she felt better after
getting the planning stuff issue off her chest and I felt better
now that there wasn’t a cloud of awkwardness hanging over our lunch
date. But there were other things in the back of my mind that kept
me from completely relaxing, completely letting go as she started
talking about all the stores we could go to and look for dresses to
suit any wedding.

I’d talked to Megan and now my
mother. I had to stop putting it off and talk to the one person
that really mattered.

Jacob.

****

Wear the little black dress, no bra,
panties in your purse.

I didn’t ask any questions, like why
I was cramming a pair of underwear in between my cell and wallet. I
was just elated that he was back--and had something
planned.

I couldn’t help but be a little
annoyed when I saw how busy the private terminal was. I thought his
late arrival would buy a little privacy. A little time.

Maybe Megan was right about the rose
colored glasses, I scolded myself. The bustle was nonexistent
compared to the regular terminal. I had nothing to complain about
but I still found myself staring at each attendant, forcing away
the annoyance in favor of a bright smile. Whatever Jacob had
planned was sure to break all kinds of rules and I figured niceness
would make the awkwardness easier to swallow if they walked in on
something.

It could be all in your head
after all.
He hadn’t promised me anything. He could be testing
me, pushing me and making me squirm until we got home and we could
make up for what I was sure was the longest week of my
life.

Without Jacob things didn’t feel
right, I knew he was in London on business and I could tell how
anxious he was to come home to me, but that didn’t make our bed any
less lonely. And even though I knew he would be deplaning any
minute now, it didn’t make my anxiety level relax. I wouldn’t relax
until I could touch him. Until my hands could travel down his
lapel, to his belt buckle--

I blinked, heat making every part of
me hot and bothered. I was all but panting, clawing my clothes off
so he could see what he did to me. Just how ready I was.

An older man was staring at me
strangely, almost like he could see right through my clothes; see
the gears turning in my head, so I looked away before I could blush
and confirm his suspicions.

When I saw a familiar face, the
sides of my mouth stretched up a few inches. The glow of
recognition colored her pale features and she returned the smile,
moving in my direction.

She extended her hand. “Miss
Montgomery!”

I shook it heartily with a laugh.
“Leila.” The ‘Miss Montgomery’ stuff was awkward as her handing
over the envelope when we met. The envelope that contained concise
then ridiculous instructions.

Remove your bra and panties prior to
boarding.

Funny, now I’d gladly remove that
and more.

I shushed the overly horny part of
me and tried to focus on what Maggie was saying.

“...and I guess congratulations are
in order!”

I shifted my weight with an
uncomfortable chuckle. “Thank you.” Uncomfortable was modest.
Suddenly very un-exciting parts of me were wet--like my palms,
sticky with sweat. I was gritting my teeth behind my lips because I
knew what question would come next.

“How are the wedding plans coming
along?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I”m sure you have
something beautiful and extravagant planned.” She leaned in,
bringing an air of perfume and a new wave of queasiness rocking
through me.

“Between you and me, I knew that
you two would end up together. Your chemistry was off the
charts.”

The blush had nowhere else to go. I
was red all over and I opened my mouth and breathed a sigh of
relief when I saw Jacob coming through the sliding doors. She
followed my line of sight and something about good to see me or
privacy or good luck or something irrelevant. At that moment,
everything but Jacob was irrelevant.

I wasn’t sure how he could turn a
white button down shirt and khakis into sex, but I felt like I
could already feel him slick against me.
Inside
me. And when
our eyes locked, I had to root myself in place so I didn’t dash
over and jump his bones on the spot. The dark waves that framed his
handsome face seemed longer than I remembered and he was rocking a
bit of stubble that gave him a rugged edge that suited him
well.

My brain functioned long enough for
me to take a few steps forward. I opened my mouth, not even caring
that a bumbled mess was about to come out, but he just rounded an
arm around my waist and pulled me to him, lips crushing against
mine.

Tongue in my mouth.

Body pulsating as his masculine
scent hung in the air around me.

We were in public and making love
with our mouths, our hands, and I didn’t care. HIs hands drew up
from my behind and I exhaled a moan as he cupped my cheeks, coming
up for air.

“Come with me.”

My first thought was ‘hell yes!’ but
I was still solidly dazed and aroused and trying to remember how to
do anything but kiss him. And now that I knew he was back and
missed me, wanted me as much as I wanted him, I had to remind
myself to breathe in and out so I didn’t pass out.

I gripped his hand, not paying much
attention to where we were headed. To be honest, I’d follow him
right off a cliff. I wasn’t thinking clearly or rationally at that
moment--and it suited me just fine.

And then I blinked and saw the sign
indicating we were heading in the direction of the
bathroom.

I was sobering up, but I shrugged
off the tiny voice that whispered we were about to out-do every
public display of sexiness. I wouldn’t let myself believe it until
I followed him into the men’s bathroom.

He didn’t check the room for any
other people, he just pushed me back against the door and reclaimed
my lips. My eyes were open, wide and unsure as I took in the
surroundings. Rich people really did have it better. If I walked
into the bathroom in the main terminal I’d instantly want to take a
Purell bath. Here, the bathroom was like a freaking hotel. Pedestal
sinks, hand towels instead of paper towels. Glittering chrome
fixtures. There was even some classical music flowing from speakers
above us.

Jacob paused, his eyes hot with
disapproval as he looked down at me. “Where are you,
Leila?”

“I’m here.”
In the bathroom
.
“I just--”

“Are concerned about our
location?”

The fact that his fingers were
already at my zipper, pulling it down, told me he wasn’t. “I’ve
been thinking about being with you, touching you since I got on the
plane a week ago. I’m not waiting one more second.”

I felt the whispers of protest on my
tongue. I wanted him, God I wanted him--but in the car or at least
in a room where we could lock the door. Yet as soon as my dress
puddled at my feet and he let out a deep, rumbling groan of
approval, I said the hell with it.

Let them walk in. We’ll give them a
hell of a show.

He gripped my breast, kneading it as
a finger flicked over the nipple. “Good girl.”

I reached forward, hand cupping his
erection. “I don’t want to be good.” I watched the wild lust
stampede across his usually controlled expression, setting his eyes
on fire when I undid his belt. “I want to be bad. I want to be
punished.”

He closed his eyes as I stroked him,
giving in for a few minutes, for a few blissful moments before his
hand abandoned my breast and gripped a fistful of my hair, tugging
my head toward him until pain rippled across my scalp and met the
wetness growing between my thighs.

“You like provoking me, don’t
you?”

“I love it,” I said hoarsely.
Defiantly. Knowing he loved it too. Loved my headstrong spirit.
Loved it when I disobeyed or forget to ask his permission so he
could punish me.

He released me, pulling his belt
loose. “Go over to that chair. Hand on the cushion. Ass facing me.
Count every strike.”

Human nature amped up my nerves as
it sunk in that he was about to use the belt on me, but I
practically ran to the chair, wasting no time before I put both
hands down, bottom up and waiting.

As much as I liked to pretend I
forgot my training to get a rise out of him, I knew how important
it was to count. It would give me something to concentrate on
besides the fear that bubbled in my gut and the sting of the
leather, but it also grounded him.

The whistle cut through the silence.
When it collided with my flesh, the hiss of pain became a
shout.

“One.”

We didn’t make it past five before I
was using the color. His eyes were wild, crazed with a need that
could have made me climax all by itself. And then I saw him
bulging, every inch solid. Lips, core, ass--I didn’t care. I just
wanted him. I stepped forward, catching his eye as my lips trembled
with anticipation. I was sure that he was about to corder me to my
knees, but I was wrong.

“Turn back around.”

I wheeled back around, feeling the
chilly air agains the wet of my juices before a moan ripped from my
lungs. He moved inside of me, reminding me of everything I missed,
everything I ever needed. When the first climax rocked me I knew I
was losing it. Moaning, crying out. His moans matched
mine.

His fingers cut into the tender
flesh of my hips as he released, filling me. Pieces of him mixing
with pieces of me.

We pushed out of the bathroom. Me
tugging at my dress, he looping his overnight bag over his
shoulder, pointed toward the exit. Most people avoided our gaze
altogether. Maggie was near the concierge desk and flashed me a
wink that made me whisper ‘oh my god’.

I looked up into his blue eyes.
Embarrassment and shame made me want to die right there. “Just how
loud were we?”

His eyes smoldered. “Loud
enough.”

My whole face tingled as I squeezed
my eyes shut. “They
know
...they’re looking at
us...”

When it came out I wished I could
take it back. Whenever we fooled around at the office and I brought
up concerns about other employees gossiping about it he’d comment
they’d be out of there so fast their head would spin. He had enough
clout that he’d make anyone looking at us sideways regret not
averting their gaze and I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble
because we couldn’t contain ourselves.