Jacob at his most vulnerable—and it was beautiful.
"All the mindless screwing and one night stands—I knew I was searching for something. The freshman just wanted pain. I definitely got off giving it to her, but there was a key piece that completely changed my views about sex and power. It was her consent that pushed me over the edge. She wanted to be taken. She needed it." His face darkened, that moment of clarity, of finally finding peace, fading to black. "The idea of enslaving someone-"
"Baby..." I couldn't find the words and I didn't need them. I just took his face in my hands and thrust my lips against his. His dark kiss was as addictive as the day we met. Filled with passion and need and a piece of him that whispered to a piece of me.
I held tight, even after my lips had stopped kissing his. I lingered there, our breath mingling, chests rising and falling with the heat of desire ready to take us to a place where Rachel was a distant memory.
He sucked in a breath behind his clenched teeth, the look he gave me making me instantly, hopelessly wet.
"I want you, Lay. I want to just live in this room. In your arms. But I've never run from a fight, and I'll be damned if Rachel Laraby is going to make me start running now." He let me go and I saw the businessman snap back into action. He rose from the bed, powering to the closet. When he emerged, he was in a white t-shirt and jeans, his phone in his hand.
I knew who he was calling before I even asked. "Are you calling her?"
He dipped his head once, tapping the screen with his thumb. The ringing echoed around the room, my stomach churning.
Rachel answered on the fifth ring. "Jakey! I was just thinking about you!"
Her voice made me want to strangle something. One crisis at a time . I plucked a pillow from the bed and settled for pretending it was her throat.
"I've heard you've been very busy," he said tersely, all the muscles in his forearm popping as he squeezed the phone. I had a feeling he was fighting his own urges too. "I'm not sure what you think you're doing-"
"Me?" Rachel almost sounded innocent. "I'm doing us all a favor. It's so much better out here in the open. No secrets. No lies. A new beginning."
I jumped from the bed, flying to where Jacob stood, fuming. "Are you crazy? Jacob never had that kind of a relationship with you. And he's never had a 'sex slave'. What you're doing is slander. And if you think we're going to let you undo all the work he's done because I hurt your feelings-"
"It's only slander if it's not the truth, dear," Rachel talked to me like she was explaining astrophysics to a fifth grader. "I thought you had a degree? You at least know how to read. Or maybe you're one of those people that just scrolls to the end instead of reading the contract they're signing?"
My eyes snapped to Jacob. She had a copy of the contract? There was nothing about sex slavery in that document, but there was enough salaciousness in it that it could ruin him. Ruin us. I could already see the comparisons to the worldwide best-selling trilogy. A real life BDSM love story. But it wouldn't be a love story with a happy ending. Who would want to work with or be represented by a company where the CEO was embroiled in his very own public relations disaster?
All the color drained from Jacob's face and if I didn't cup the hand that held the phone, I had a feeling it was about to fall to the floor. Or go soaring in the direction of the wall.
"Honestly, I thought you two would be thrilled. Leila told me the world was consumed by my colorful activities instead of my movie. I can assure you, right now, the last thing they're thinking about is the fact that I like to party." The sound of victory in her voice radiated, pulsing like a fresh wound. "They're thinking no wonder I like to booze it up...the love of my life is some sexual deviant. Pity ticket sales are better than no sales at all, right?"
Chapter Seven
I was no stranger to working after hours at Whitmore and
"All the mindless screwing and one night stands—I knew I was searching for something. The freshman just wanted pain. I definitely got off giving it to her, but there was a key piece that completely changed my views about sex and power. It was her consent that pushed me over the edge. She wanted to be taken. She needed it." His face darkened, that moment of clarity, of finally finding peace, fading to black. "The idea of enslaving someone-"
"Baby..." I couldn't find the words and I didn't need them. I just took his face in my hands and thrust my lips against his. His dark kiss was as addictive as the day we met. Filled with passion and need and a piece of him that whispered to a piece of me.
I held tight, even after my lips had stopped kissing his. I lingered there, our breath mingling, chests rising and falling with the heat of desire ready to take us to a place where Rachel was a distant memory.
He sucked in a breath behind his clenched teeth, the look he gave me making me instantly, hopelessly wet.
"I want you, Lay. I want to just live in this room. In your arms. But I've never run from a fight, and I'll be damned if Rachel Laraby is going to make me start running now." He let me go and I saw the businessman snap back into action. He rose from the bed, powering to the closet. When he emerged, he was in a white t-shirt and jeans, his phone in his hand.
I knew who he was calling before I even asked. "Are you calling her?"
He dipped his head once, tapping the screen with his thumb. The ringing echoed around the room, my stomach churning.
Rachel answered on the fifth ring. "Jakey! I was just thinking about you!"
Her voice made me want to strangle something. One crisis at a time . I plucked a pillow from the bed and settled for pretending it was her throat.
"I've heard you've been very busy," he said tersely, all the muscles in his forearm popping as he squeezed the phone. I had a feeling he was fighting his own urges too. "I'm not sure what you think you're doing-"
"Me?" Rachel almost sounded innocent. "I'm doing us all a favor. It's so much better out here in the open. No secrets. No lies. A new beginning."
I jumped from the bed, flying to where Jacob stood, fuming. "Are you crazy? Jacob never had that kind of a relationship with you. And he's never had a 'sex slave'. What you're doing is slander. And if you think we're going to let you undo all the work he's done because I hurt your feelings-"
"It's only slander if it's not the truth, dear," Rachel talked to me like she was explaining astrophysics to a fifth grader. "I thought you had a degree? You at least know how to read. Or maybe you're one of those people that just scrolls to the end instead of reading the contract they're signing?"
My eyes snapped to Jacob. She had a copy of the contract? There was nothing about sex slavery in that document, but there was enough salaciousness in it that it could ruin him. Ruin us. I could already see the comparisons to the worldwide best-selling trilogy. A real life BDSM love story. But it wouldn't be a love story with a happy ending. Who would want to work with or be represented by a company where the CEO was embroiled in his very own public relations disaster?
All the color drained from Jacob's face and if I didn't cup the hand that held the phone, I had a feeling it was about to fall to the floor. Or go soaring in the direction of the wall.
"Honestly, I thought you two would be thrilled. Leila told me the world was consumed by my colorful activities instead of my movie. I can assure you, right now, the last thing they're thinking about is the fact that I like to party." The sound of victory in her voice radiated, pulsing like a fresh wound. "They're thinking no wonder I like to booze it up...the love of my life is some sexual deviant. Pity ticket sales are better than no sales at all, right?"
Chapter Seven
I was no stranger to working after hours at Whitmore and
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