Hostile Takeover by Hill, W (best novels to read for students .TXT) 📕

made sure he knew what every inch of her felt like against him. She couldn’t help herself, and it wasn’t entirely her fault. While he’d said no sex, apparently that didn’t mean he couldn’t kiss her whenever he desired, long, drugging kisses that left her knees weak and her pussy soaked.

She’d lost count of how many times he’d had her come into his office, shut the door and then ordered her behind his desk to straddle his thigh while he kissed her, his hands dropping to knead her ass. Every time, no matter how she tried to control herself, she found herself rubbing herself on that hard muscle, straining against him like a complete out-of-control nymphomaniac. He’d stop her before she could come, make her stay completely still. Sometimes he’d open her blouse, stroke her breasts. Lay a kiss between them, then rearrange her clothes and send her back to her desk with a firm pat on the ass.

She was going to hack him up with his commercial grade, beautifully sharpened and polished meat cleaver. She’d be sorry, but no jury of her female peers would convict her.

He took her for long walks at lunch, holding her hand, buying her food from the sidewalk vendors. At night, he’d call her, give her bedtime stories that left her toes curling and her anything but sleepy. Especially with his parting good night.

“Remember, your hand and your vibrator stays away from what’s mine. You come on my command alone.”

“What about you?” She’d purred it into the phone, trying to cover the desperation. His sexy chuckle alone made her nipples harden.

“I’ll be stroking my cock, baby. Thinking about you while I watch the evening news. And when I come, I’ll say your name. Your punishment for trying to change your Master’s mind with your tight skirts and those little stunts you pull at the office.”

Hack, hack, hack. No, forget the meat cleaver. She’d use a power saw.

He’d told her he was her Master, which meant he held the reins. So she had to wait on him. He was testing her. She was trying, but God, she was going to go crazy.

On the flip side, Ben was making no secret of the fact he considered her his. There was no emotional uncertainty anymore. With every passing day, she became joyously more confident of his feelings. The night he’d prepared that dinner, Talia, as precocious a teenager as Marcie had ever been, had tracked every time Ben grazed his fingers over Marcie’s hip, or brushed his lips against her temple when he handed her something to bring to the table. When her younger sister was helping her clear, she’d leaned in, whispered to Marcie, “Are you Ben’s girlfriend now?”

Before Marcie could answer, Ben had come by with a stack of plates, pulled Talia’s ponytail. “Yes, she is.” And that was that.

She saw the exchanged looks between the other men and their wives that night, but she had a feeling it wasn’t only because of the new dynamic between her and Ben. Something was easier about the K&A lawyer. The jokes he made, the fact he smiled a little more often…it was obvious that something was uncoiling inside of him, turning him in a better direction. Thinking she might have something to do with that was a good feeling, but just seeing him happier made her heart swell to bursting. It also touched something in her deeply, seeing him casually bypassing his normal whiskey, even abstaining from wine.

As remarkable as that was, other things were going on as well. They’d had other get-togethers, not just at Ben’s house, but at Jon and Rachel’s, and a concert at Audubon Park. During those events, she’d noted a distinct change in her relationship with the others. When Peter passed behind her chair at Jon and Rachel’s, he’d playfully put his large hands on either side of the seat, his knuckles brushing her hips as he scooted her closer to the table so he could get his massive bulk in the narrow area between wall and chair. As he straightened, he’d laid his hands on her shoulders. The wide neckline of her cotton top had made it a simple, casual thing to hook his thumb under her bra strap, and he’d idly stroked her there as he exchanged a few remarks with Jon about a subject she couldn’t possibly remember, not with that happening and Ben watching, leaned back in his chair, his green eyes intent on her reaction.

Later that same evening, when Matt was sitting on the couch with her and Savannah, he had his arm around his wife, but he also had his arm stretched behind Marcie. A couple times he stroked his strong fingers casually through Marcie’s hair, tracing the shell of her ear. She’d stayed still, nerves tingling along her spine, everything coiling up tight at the touch, which couldn’t be called anything but sexually proprietary. Once again, Ben had his eyes on her, his expression telling her that their subtle enjoyment of her had his full approval. When she leaned across him to accept Savannah’s invitation to feel the baby kick, Matt’s hand dropped to her waist, fingers wrapped over her hip bone. As the conversations continued, it was both more comfortable and titillating than expected, to stay leaning against him.

Of course, the big surprise was when Lucas demonstrated some of the same type of behavior. At the Audubon concert, Marcie had been sitting on her hip on the picnic blanket next to Cass. When Lucas asked them if they wanted more wine, he brushed a kiss along his wife’s throat, taking a nip with teeth, but as he moved around Marcie to go get them both a glass, he let his fingertips trail up the inside of Marcie’s thigh in what was undeniably a sexual caress. She felt a tingle all the way up her groin muscle.

She knew what this was. Dana had spoken of it once during those tea parties. Before Peter initiated her