The Billionaire's Hope (A His Submissive Series Novella)

by Ava Claire

  Jacob sucked all the air in the room, in my lungs, between his clenched teeth. The sound balled my heart into a fist. It was the right response. Even if we were both putting on a show, we couldn't make it too seamless. I was pretending I was gonna off myself for crissakes.

  "Lay, you don't have to do this," he begged, his voice tearing me in two.

  My body shook, and it had nothing to do with pretending.

  This was it.

  Now or never.

  Literally do or die.

  "There's no other way." I held out my hand, saying yet another prayer. Please let this work. And if all hell breaks loose and it doesn't, take care of Hope and Jacob...

  "Give me the gun, Darla. I'll do it."

  She glanced over at Jacob, then back at me. Wheels turning. Trying to decide if I was playing her. I was high on adrenaline, blood roaring in my ears. I must have been delirious because it looked like she was extending her hand toward me.

  She was gonna give me the gun.

  Right when I thought we were home free, she snatched it back, steadying it with her other hand. Eyes narrowed.

  "You know what? A gun's too messy, and I actually dig your furniture." She slid from the couch, beckoning me to follow her. Out of the main room. Out of earshot of Jacob's questions.

  My heart almost fell out of my chest when I realized we were headed to the balcony, but I asked anyway. To delay her. To think up plan b. "Where are we going?"

  "I think you should jump off the balcony. Suicide's easier to explain." Her voice softened, like she had a heart. "It'll make a more gentle story for Hope too, don't you think?"

  Gee, thanks.

  I held onto the scream that wanted to tear its way out of my mouth. "R-right."

  All the memories Jacob and I had shared swirled around me as I opened the doors and stepped outside. Felt the rush of the wind against my skin. That throwing up feeling was back with a vengeance.

  How would the wind feel against my skin when my body was barreling toward the cement below?

  I reined my terror back in, taking a tiny step toward the railing. Stopping.

  I can’t do this.

  I won't do this.

  I felt the barrel of the gun on my spine and I knew that she would pull the trigger.

  I also knew that was the only way she was gonna get me over the railing. She'd have to shoot me and throw me over herself.

  "I've come too far, Leila. I have nothing to lose."

  I blinked, the sun peeking out from the clouds.

  "Good," I murmured, putting it all on the line. "Neither do I."

  I jabbed my elbow backward and crouched down, hearing the pop of the gun going off.

  Not stopping.

  Not thinking.

  I whirled my body around, going for her ankles. She tumbled on top of me with a squeal, but I wasn't done. She didn't know it, but I was a woman possessed. Thrown into the coliseum to fight to the death—and I had no intention of dying.

  My first punch collided with her jaw. The feel of her bone beneath my knuckles ricocheted through me. Blood spewed from her mouth as I hit her again.

  Again.

  She couldn't have my life.

  And again.

  She couldn't have my daughter.

  Again.

  She couldn't have my husband-

  "LEILA!"

  The voice came in through the red, through the rage.

  It pulled me out of the darkest place I'd ever been.

  It was Jacob's voice, wrapping me in warmth. In safety.

  He scooped me up and held me tight, like he'd never let me go again.

  "You're alright, baby," he promised, holding me as I sobbed. As I dared to hope again. "It's gonna be alright."

  Chapter Ten

  "Your mom just threatened to literally put her foot up some dude's ass."

  My mother maneuvered past Megan with an eye roll that morphed into her ‘Baby Faces: The Greatest Hits’ when she got Hope in her sights.

  "Don't be dramatic, Megan," she clucked her tongue, then stuck it out playfully as she extricated Hope from my arms and made her eyes as wide as saucers. "I liked those cretins better when they were scrambling to get a picture of the cutest baby in the whole world instead of The Fearsome Whitmores who foiled that lunatic woman's plan."

  Megan and I locked eyes over my mother's bowed head. She was making whirring sounds with her lips, like she hadn’t just dragged the encounter back to the forefront of my mind.

  I'd only given the two of them the highlights of what happened: the nurse who helped deliver Hope just so happened to be out of her mind...and had a history with Jacob. Both of them had been ready to take up arms until I assured them that she was a blast from the distant past. I left out the gun and the fact that I'd nearly beat the woman within an inch of her life. She was behind bars, awaiting a trial that would certainly lock her away for a long time, somewhere she couldn't hurt anyone else.

  Jacob and I managed to keep 99% of our colorful brushes with catastrophe out of the press. The last one? Not so much. When the police showed up in full force with an ambulance in tow, there was no way to control the story. The world got a taste of the fact that all the money in the world can't protect you from crazy, and maybe, 'Cinderella' didn't have it quite so easy after all.

  I looked around at all I had to be grateful for, and I didn't have too many complaints at the present moment. My mother and Megan were playing their favorite new game, which was basically a contest to see who could make Hope smile with glee the most. It was all in good fun, but I was glad their showdown would only last a couple of hours. Even with Darla out of the picture, I still wasn't ready for my baby to spend the night with someone else. Heck, she had a perfectly good room with a crib that looked cuddlier than my own bed, but she hadn't spent a night away from me and Jacob.

  Like she'd hacked into my head, my mother saddled up next to me, dropping her voice to a low, confidential level. "If you and Jacob want a whole night to yourselves-"

  “-Then I hope you'll keep me and Cade in mind!" Megan finished for her, reaching over and tickling Hope's tummy. The deadly glare my mother eviscerated her with made her add, "And I'm sure Grandma and Grandpa would love to chip in, too!"

  "I appreciate the offer guys," I laughed, moving out of the danger zone, heading back to the counter where I was planning me and Jacob’s celebratory evening. "We just need a grown up...dinner."

  Heat rushed to my cheeks when I realized that the counter told a different story. Strawberries, caramel, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream? Forget dinner, what I had laid out was closer to dessert.

  Lust flashed between my thighs, picturing the way Jacob’s eyes would darken. I had something decadent in mind. A special kind of dessert for us both. A celebration of the fact that I officially received a clean bill of health from Dr. Clarkson at my checkup.

  “I don’t think I ever told you this story,” Mom shared in between Hope cuddles, “You know your father isn't one to go on and on about his feelings, but he went toe to toe with your grandmother when she had the audacity to ask if she could take you on her European cruise. You were only one, so it’s not like you would have remembered it either way," she chuckled, planting a kiss on the crown of Hope's head. "And just so you know, I'd already planned on telling her no, but Earl beat me to the punch."

  You could have knocked me over with a freaking feather. If my mother was a force of nature, always in motion and impossible to ignore, my dad was the wind before the storm. Calm and guarded. I could count the number of times he raised his voice on two fingers. The first was when my junior high science teacher called me an unremarkable student. The second was the summer after graduation when my mother told me to just get a job, any job, like everyone else. My father was a man of few words but I knew if asked, he'd say I was extraordinary and should set my sights for the stars.

  "Now that I don't believe," I said with a smirk.

  "Everyone went quiet after he said you weren't go
ing anywhere without the two of us." She smacked her lips like she was savoring something delicious. "I could have jumped his bones right then and there."

  “Ew,” I groaned with a laugh, beckoning for Megan to follow me. The truth was, I knew what my mother was talking about. Every time Jacob held Hope in his arms—every kiss, every whispered word, the faces he made, the dances he thought I didn’t see, the way he glared down any hint of danger coming Hope’s way, from cameras toting paparazzo to not budging on Dimitri’s dismissal—it was beautiful.

  And it was freaking hot.

  We’d been through so much and I was in no mood to tempt fate by asking what came next, but I knew without a doubt that with Jacob by my side, we would overcome anything.

  I paused at the barstool, Hope’s bag filled to the brim with everything they’d need from a fresh onesie to extra socks, bottles, and books since she loved hearing a story while she had her night feeding. “I’ve got everything you guys need right here-”

  “And then some,” Megan whistled, her olive eyes glazing over the bag. She lifted out a fistful of onesies. “Are you sure she’s not spending the night?” Before I had a chance to answer, she changed the subject, her eyes shooting to the counter. “Looks like you two have quite the ‘dinner’ planned.”

  Even though her wiggling eyebrows were missed by my mother, who was busy playing ‘Got Your Nose’ with Hope, I still turned red as a tomato. “Just you wait—when you and Cade have a baby, you’ll go from sex everywhere and anywhere to having to schedule kisses and ass grabs in between diapers and feedings.”

  I’d expected a snort, but I got dead silence.

  “Well, we just barely shacked up together, so I don’t think there’s a lil poop maker on the horizon anytime soon.” Megan avoided my wiggling eyebrows, looping the diaper bag over her shoulder.

  I’d yet to get the scoop on how things were going since she moved to Cade’s loft last week but from all the cozy pics on Instagram of Cade joining her at yoga and all the fancy dishes he was making for her, things were going well for them. I couldn’t be happier.

  “We should have you guys over soon!” she said cheerfully, suddenly in a hurry to change the subject. The love colored her cheeks and her jittery movements. They were so adorable.

  “And you know Grandma is always available to babysit!” Mom piped from the living room.

  So she was listening. I braced my hands on the bar, hoping she missed Megan’s little dig about dinner...or lack thereof.

  “And you guys will call if you need anything? I’m keeping my volume on full blast, so if anything comes up-”

  “Hopefully you’ll be far too busy to answer.” Just because my mother said it in a baby voice didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

  “Mom!” I groaned, trying futilely to stand in front of the counter of sin.

  She shuffled over with Hope, letting me get in a little more loving. My heart sighed in my chest when Hope clutched one of my fingers and squeezed tight.

  “We’ll take very good care of your baby. You and Jacob deserve a night for yourselves, especially after all you’ve been through.” She pecked my cheek with her lips. I inhaled her smell; cinnamon and Dove soap and safety. I didn’t let my mind go to the dark place. To linger on the fact that I’d been so close to never smelling that scent again. To not having this very moment, if Darla had been successful with her plan.

  I decided I would enjoy the present, the love that filled me up until I overflowed with hope for the future and all the memories we’d make together.

  I gave Hope a million more kisses with tears in my eyes. “Mommy loves you so much, babu girl.”

  “And we love you,” Megan answered, giving me a bear hug, squeezing tight.

  I gave my mother a kiss on her temple, grinning as she balanced Hope like a pro and nuzzled my cheek.

  “Who knows, Hope,” Mom said brightly. “Maybe Mommy and Daddy will make a little brother and sister for you to play with!”

  ~

  I fiddled with my robe, excitement sparking inside me like fireworks. It had only been a couple of hours since we'd seen each other—Jacob heading to the office for a board meeting, me heading home to wait for my mother and Megan to pick up Hope—but it felt like an eternity. Long enough for me to stare at all the food I'd laid out and eat half the strawberries, along with stealing some squirts of whipped cream and chocolate syrup.

  It had nothing to do with appetite.

  I was nervous.

  I reread the text he sent.

  Managed to not strangle any board members. Home in 20. Can't wait to see you. ;)

  That's right...an emoji.

  A wink.

  A flirtatious wink emoji.

  An emoji that told me that we both knew just how we were gonna spend the next few hours.

  And I couldn't stop shaking.

  "What the heck?" I chastised myself, steering clear of the strawberries. I doubted either one of us were planning on snacking and even if I didn't have a head start, the last thing on my mind was food.

  I tilted my head to the side, trying to decide just how sexy the whole whipped cream and chocolate syrup thing was. Food play seemed sexy in theory, decadence meeting flesh, but I was picturing chocolate streaks all over the place. Whipped cream in my hair. Or better yet, whipped cream places whipped cream didn't belong. Yeast infections. Monistat was definitely not sexy.

  I went back to the metaphorical drawing board, wrapping the strawberries in Saran Wrap. I gathered the whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and caramel and tucked them back in the fridge. I closed the doors and leaned against them, racking my mind for some sexy scenario.

  My eyes shot to the living room, but there was something about that couch that dashed it off the list. The last time we'd played on it, I ended up in the hospital. It was the couch I'd sat on while I involuntarily listened to Darla ramble on about how she wanted to live my life.

  "Nah," I said aloud, meandering toward the dining room. I could wait for him on top of the table, stretched out like a meal that he could feast on. I pulled my robe tighter, shaking my head at that option as well. Our table looked sturdy enough, but the last thing I wanted was to spend our first night together plucking splinters out of each other’s behind.

  I turned to the staircase. I could line the stairs with candles that led up to the bedroom. Wait for him on the bed.

  "Music!" I said aloud, rushing over to coffee table, talking to the app that controlled our electronics. "Play something sexy."

  I swayed a bit, doing a strip tease for my invisible audience as the opening notes to "Sexual Healing" crooned from the speakers. I headed to the pantry, zeroing in on the wicker basket near the back that held our candles. I danced like a woman that knew something good was in store, using the wick like a mic, shaking my booty like I was in the front row of Zumba class. I crouched down near the stairs, making a heart with the white votives, humming to myself.

  "That's quite the view."

  I froze, bent at the waist, literally letting it all hang out before I snapped upright, blushing like we were on our first date. Like he hadn't already seen and tasted every naked part of me.

  That's what he did to me.

  He made me come undone. With his voice. With his presence.

  I slowly turned to face him, already panting, wanting, and all I'd heard was that voice. I'd already peeled off my clothing but if I hadn't, I would have torn it off because of that voice. Deep. Hungry. Turning language into a weapon because I knew I'd follow whatever commands fell from his lips.

  I was Jacob's.

  Always.

  I pushed my hair behind my ears, licking my lips as I watched him tug his tie loose. Still drinking me in. "You're early."

  "Traffic was non existent," he replied smoothly, tossing his tie aside. "The powers that be must have known what was waiting for me."

  "Uh huh," I smirked, pointing at the ledge above the fireplace. It held the discreet clock that had a dual function—it hid one o
f the many hidden cameras Jacob had installed. "I think you peeked."

  He didn't answer, giving me a striptease of my own.

  Freed his shirt.

  Unbuttoned it.

  Slowly.

  I crossed my arms against my chest, pouting. "You make it impossible to surprise you, Jacob Whitmore."

  "Who said I'm not surprised?"

  He shed the shirt and I gobbled up every tight, muscled square of his chest. Lingered on the V cut that he teased me with when he unbuttoned his fly. He stepped out of his tailored slacks, standing before me like some Greek god in Calvin Klein. He put every one of those smoldering models to shame. They were amateurs in the shadow of his sleek, powerful body. And yet—he eased toward me like I was the ogle-worthy one. Took his time rounding every curve until he reached my face. He stayed at my mouth until I bit my lip, then rested on my eyes.

  "No matter how many times I look at you, you still take my breath away. I am surprised, Leila. You're the most incredible woman I've ever known, and for some reason, you picked me."

  “You’re gonna make me melt in a puddle with that kinda talk,” I sighed, making a circle on the floor with my toe. I was sure my face was as red as the rug beneath my feet. I took a step towards him, emotion burning in my eyes. "We picked each other."

  I saw the love shining there. A bond that survived past lovers, intrigue, criminals and homicidal maniacs. A love that made Hope possible. A desire that needed no candles or music or lingerie to turn a spark into a dark inferno. I'd had him and he'd had me, every which way, and still there was so much more. There was no end to this rabbit hole. No amount of him that would ever be enough.

  My eyes never left his as I bent my knees, lowering myself to the ground. I leaned back, resting my palms on my thighs. I knew where this was headed, knew that he'd likely make allowances. We'd been through so much and there were no threats of spankings behind those blue eyes if I was loosey goosey with the rules I knew well. He probably would have let it slide if I said the hell with this and just tackled him. Took the rock hard part of him that bulged beneath the dark fabric in my hands and guided him inside.