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

his head. “And you’re the best at reading people of all of us. But you’re not objective about this one. I can be, to a certain extent.”

“He shouldn’t be,” Matt said quietly. “Neither should you. We all know how important family is, particularly the ones we create for ourselves.”

Matt had tapped on that door of his psyche on purpose he was sure, a reminder of the darkness behind it. “What I’m saying,” Ben responded evenly, with effort, “is she’s at the beginning of it, but that doesn’t mean the signs aren’t there. She’s a 24/7, Luc. Rachel’s got a gentle form of that, the way she defers to Jon even in front of others, but Marcie craves the hardcore brand of it.”

He knew what that would look like. When she came home from work, she’d follow a Master’s protocol from the time she walked through the door. He’d have the heat programmed to bump up a couple notches a half hour before she arrived home. Once there, she would shed her clothes, all of them, hang them up. She’d slide on a thong fitted with a small clit stimulator. It would be set on a low vibration to keep her distracted as she moved to do the things she was required to do for her Master. Set the table, light the candles. Put out his dinner.

Well, the dinner he’d have her heat up, because he preferred to do the cooking. Marcie appreciated good food, but she could burn break-apart Nestle Tollhouse cookies.

Right before dinner, she’d remove the thong, lie down on the table. At his Garden District townhome, he had a dining room table of glossy cherry wood, with carved legs that looked like a griffin’s feathered and taloned feet, a heavy antique piece that had been created during the Baroque period. She’d brace her feet on the arms of his chair, her spread thighs framing his plate. When he sat down to eat, he’d have the pleasure of seeing that pussy wet and glistening, needy. The candlelight would glint on the clit piercing, and her arousal would give her that sexy little quiver, her nipples high and tight…

He’d place one candle in either hand, making her hold them stretched out to either side of her body as he lit them. He’d get the tallow kind with wax drippings, so she’d feel the tiny burn as each drop hit her wrists, her knuckles. When he finished his dinner, he’d eat her pussy until she came. Then turn her over, give her a good paddling that would have her squealing and begging before he slid into that tight little puckered hole, feeling her submission to him, to anything he wanted to do to her. Utter, total surrender of self, belonging to him forever.

After that, they’d watch TV. She’d curl up next to him naked, tolerate the business reports and his acerbic comments about the idiots in Washington. But then she’d steal the remote and put it on some romantic chick flick she wanted to watch. Maybe she’d be wearing one of his shirts, left open to give her Master access, but allowed because it kept her warm and drowsy. They’d share popcorn and he’d watch her fall asleep against him, her head against his heart. He’d carry her to his bed, and when he was restless in the middle of the night, he’d find her curled around him, arm across his chest, body snugged up so close…

He was the night owl; she was the morning person. So he’d wake to find her perched like an adorable sex kitten near him, holding his coffee out of reach, teasing him with the aroma. He’d wrestle her for it, carefully, so she didn’t get burned, then when he got it away from her, putting it on the side table, he’d snatch her to him by the waist. She’d straddle him, run her fingers through his hair, smiling, then her mouth would soften and he’d turn her beneath him…

Someone to wake up with, someone he wanted to see next to him in the morning.

“Ben?”

He snapped out of it to find Lucas and Matt looking at him like he’d just sprouted a second nose. Thank God he had the briefcase on his lap. As it was, the weight of the damn thing was making his cock hurt like a son of a bitch. He was lucky it wasn’t knocking against it like a door. But that wasn’t what freaking rocked his foundation. He was fantasizing about…nesting with a woman. Holy Christ.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Thinking about the meeting.”

Lucas raised a brow. “Yeah right. Subs don’t usually get under your skin. She messing you up?”

“Well, the whole family relationship thing threw me for a loop.” Ben forced a casual shrug. Jesus, let me out of this car. I can’t breathe. “I’ve got my feet under me. But it would have helped if you’d let us know you suspected this about her way the hell earlier.”

“I expect I didn’t for the same reason you didn’t tell me where you were on it. It wasn’t something I felt comfortable tossing out there. I assumed when she started to actively pursue it, it would be with someone her own age, her own group.”

Ouch. That hurt more than expected, but it was nothing more than what he’d told her himself. He kept his expression blank.

Lucas rubbed a hand over his face, shook his head. “There were always clues to it, even before we realized it straight out, but of course talking about it when she was underage was a quagmire I wasn’t about to touch. She was sixteen when I came into her life, so she never saw me as a father figure, more as a friend, her sister’s husband. Cass was in charge of keeping an eye on it, helping to direct and manage it in subtle ways. But I figured it out from the way she watched me and Cassandra. Sometimes the way she acted toward me.”

Ben