Home > The Billionaire's Desire (His Submissive #9)(7)

The Billionaire's Desire (His Submissive #9)(7)
Author: Ava Claire

We stayed exactly as we were for a long time after we were done. My back to his chest, his arms pulling me close, tighter, like he couldn’t get me quite close enough.

****

It had been a full twenty-four hours since I said yes and tonight, Jacob and I were announcing our engagement officially to Megan and my parents.

Jacob hired a planner to set things up and make sure everything went off without a hitch and she’d done a great job. She’d made sure the catered food was on time and set up in such a way that it was like we’d copied a table from the restaurant and pasted it in our dining room. She’d brought in some mood lighting that sent a warm glow over the main room. I didn’t think it was possible to make the place look more breathtaking but the small pieces she’d come with--a tower light, a few vases, fresh flowers, and a glass sculpture that created a flow in the living room--just magnified the beauty of the space.

Still, I hovered, wiping invisible wrinkles from the tablecloth, straightening silverware, so nervous and jittery I felt like I’d jump out of my bones.

When I did a circle and went to rearrange the flowers, she stepped in my path, giving me a tight smile. “Miss Montgomery, I appreciate the help and input, but I’ve got it under control.”

My cheeks warmed and I fiddled with my earring. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

And so far, it was. I was still shocked that my mother hadn’t called me last night, furious that the internet knew I was engaged before she did. And even though I’d called Megan when Jacob and I got back from the cabin and squeed for a few minutes, I still felt like this was the real deal. It wouldn’t be ‘official’ until Jacob and I stood up in front of the people I loved and told them we were spending the rest of our lives together.

I saw a napkin slightly off center and sidestepped her. “I’m just gonna--”

“--Join me in the kitchen,” Jacob finished for me, descending down the stairwell. One arched eyebrow made me clamp my mouth shut and give him a guilty nod.

I walked over to him, perking when I saw him brandish a bottle of red wine. He pulled out a single glass and poured the burgundy liquid in, filling it nearly to the rim.

“What are you implying?” I said, feigning insult.

“That you need to relax,” he answered with a chuckle. “Clarissa Stone does this for a living, Leila. The whole point of hiring her was so we wouldn’t stress.”

I rolled my eyes and took the glass. “I’m not stressing.” When he cleared his throat in a ‘you’re full of crap’ way, I added, “Much.”

I held the wine in my mouth, swishing it around before I swallowed, savoring the notes and bite as it went down.

Jacob was watching me, his tanned skin golden against the crisp white shirt he donned.

“You look amazing.”

He was just leaning against the counter, but somehow he turned it into foreplay. His firm body drew the eye, first to his chest, then down to his crotch where I found myself wondering if we had time for a quickie.

When my eyes darted back up, remembering myself, it was too late. His smirk said he knew exactly where my head was--firmly in the gutter.

I took another long gulp, shying away from him and turning bright red. “So Megan and the ‘rents will be here soon.”

My body tingled with glee when he wrapped his arms around my waist, taking the glass and putting it back on the counter. “I don’t think that’s what you really want to talk about.”

My eyes darted to the dining room entryway where I saw Clarissa sweeping back and forth, rearranging things. “You really think now is the time for this?”

“You tell me,” he whispered seductively. “Tell me you’re not wet at the thought of us going to the bedroom right now.” His lips brushed my ear. “Or maybe we could get a little creative right here.” His hands careened down to where I was throbbing, cupping me through my slinky black number. I was seriously considering doing something that would definitely put a kink in the dinner plans.

The elevator dinged and I let out a hiss of simultaneous relief and annoyance.

“Saved by the bell,” Jacob murmured, releasing me reluctantly.

I spun around and pecked him on the cheek while flipping the tables and pressing my h*ps into him and watching his eyes smolder. “Until later.”

I sauntered to the elevator, still tingling with a grin slathered on my face. I heard Megan’s familiar tone and rubbed my hands together excitedly. The doors separated and she stepped out, mirroring my joy.

I opened my arms. “Meg! It’s so good to see...” I didn’t finish, my smile creeping downward when I saw she wasn’t alone. It didn’t have anything to do with some weird bff, territorial thing. It was more my brain slowly registering who the guy was. The cropped gold and brown hair. The chiseled jaw, the mouth accentuated by a goatee. The sea foam green eyes. She’d spoke of him, usually after one drink too many or after she claimed that he was a ‘type’ and that was the reason she and Cade would never happen. This guy with the smug grin on his face was the man that she fell for so hard that she related to the kids that doodled hearts in the margins of their notebook.

Mark Winters. The PE teacher that broke her heart.

Megan noticed my snarl and gave me a glare that I flat out ignored.

“Leila, this is Mark.”

I just burned a hole right through him, taking the Colgate, ‘ain’t I fine’ curve of his lips, balled it up and spat it out. I didn’t say a word to him for two reasons. One, I had my bestie’s back...and from the things she told me about how he ogled anything that twitched her h*ps even after she told him about her trust issues, he was the kind of guy that mother’s warned their daughter’s about. Bad news. Gorgeous eyes, bodies that didn’t quit and tongues that only knew how to lie. So I was SO not gonna be fake and play buddy-buddy with this guy.

And two, just what was Megan thinking bringing him to my engagement dinner? This obnoxious guy who obviously spat on fidelity was her date to a celebration of me and Jacob devoting ourselves to each other? I was flabbergasted.

But Megan was the one looking at me like she was confused. “You remember Mark, right?”

“Oh yes,” I said roughly. I snatched the bottle of wine he was holding out as a peace offering, going back and forth between cracking him over the head with it and using it to knock some sense into my friend.

As if Jacob could sense something was about to go down, he appeared at my elbow, easing the bottle from my grip. “It’s always good to see you, Megan.” He shook Mark’s hand. “Why don’t I show you around while they catch up?”

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