Free The Billionaire's Touch (BDSM Erotic Romance) (His Submissive, Part Two) by Ava Claire Page A

thanks.”
    Naturally, she took it as a ‘come on in’ and burst into the dressing room.
    "Just making sure everything fits-” The word hung in the air as the door clicked shut behind her and her heavily mascaraed eyes popped from her head. “-Perfectly."
    Skye had been making backhanded comments about my figure al l day, going on and on about how I filled out every inch. She was th e kind of woman that looke d at anyone who wasn’t a size 0 like they had a predisposition toward laziness .
    She'd also been making googly eyes at Jacob since we’d walked into the door. It made me angrier than I liked to admit, but I took a measure of comfort in the fact that he seemed completely uninterested. Instead of taking t he hint, she just bat her eyelashes even harder. It was obvious she wasn’t convinced of th e spell he was under.
    Well , I thought deliciously as I stood a little taller, until now .
    She cleared her throat and did a slow circuit around me. She was probably looking for some love handle or thread pulled too tight. "The dress is positively lovely on you, Miss Montgomery!"
    I smiled at the compliment that wasn’t really one, choosing to ignore the utter shock she'd bundled it in. "It's definitely my favorite."
    "And rightfully so," she said with a nod. She stepped up behind me, her eyes burning into mine. "How long did you say you've been working for Mr. Whitmore?"
    "I didn't," I replied cryptically.
    “Oh.” She glanced away, nothing cryptic in the way her face scrunched in concern. “I see.”
    I turned to face her, getting the feeling that she had something on her chest. " Not that it’s really any of your business, but I was promoted a few hours ago."
    "And you're already getting the VIP treatment?" The smile on her lips didn't get near her olive eyes. "You must be something special."
    It was obvious that she meant another word that started with an 's'. Before I could open my mouth to respond, she dropped her volume to a low, confidential level. "If you want a piece of advice, enjoy the perks while they last."
    My nostrils flared as I crossed my arms against my chest, sud denly feeling bare and exposed in spite of my pricey frock. "I don't remember asking for anything from you."
    She held her hands up, feigning innocence. "I'm just trying to help, sweetie. I thought you'd want to know that Mr. Whitmore's assistants don't have a very long shelf life and to stuff your swag bag while you can."
    Now, I'm a simple girl who generally has a 'make love, not war' view as far as violence goes. I've only been in one fight my whole life and it lasted all of ten seconds when I bitch slapped Mindy Kennedy for ripping the head off my Barbie in the second grade. But this woman had me imagining all the ways I could wipe the smug satisfaction right off her face.
    "Get. Out." The words came from behind clenched teeth which I thought should have been a dead giveaway that she was approachin g the danger zone. Infuriatingly enough, she just stood there, like she didn’t understand English.
    "Is there a problem, Miss Montgomery?"
    "I said, GET OUT!"
    With an hmph, she finally got the message and turned to exit--but not before Jacob threw open the dressing room door. I was clot hed, but my arm s still wrapped around the front of my body instinctively. Sleek and composed, only his eyes moved, narrowing in displeasure.
    "What the hell is going on in here?" He looked back and forth between us like a parent scolding naughty children.
    Neither of us said a word.
    “I said, what is going on in here?”
    What could I say without sounding juvenile? That I’d fallen for her ploy to get a rise out of me? That I was screaming like someone with no class because she hurt my feelings? I felt the anger seeping from me like air from a balloon and hung my head.
    When Skye stepped forward, I expecte d her to throw me under the bus, but instead, she tried to smooth everything over. "Just a small misunderstanding, Mr. Whitmore." She gave me a