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

She’d engineered so much of everything that had happened until now. She was afraid if she stopped fighting for what she wanted, let go of the reins, he wouldn’t pick them up. He’d just walk away and she’d lose ground.

“May I ask…why are we at Jon’s, sir?”

His lips pressed together. When he shifted, that heat in her lower belly kindled further. Whether or not he wanted it to happen, her subservience had pleased him. She could tell. “Rachel has nurse training in addition to her physical therapy certification. I want her to check you over, make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine. I—” She bit her lip as he shifted that steady stare to her. She nodded, laid her cheek back down on his leg.

“Yes sir.” But her fingers curled into balls, uncertain.

The porch light was turned on as they pulled up. Ben had probably told the limo driver to call ahead. She was hoping he’d let her walk, because she’d feel utterly foolish if he carried her. He did let her walk up the stairs, though he carried her to the deck steps since he wouldn’t let her put her shoes back on.

As she ascended, he was right behind her, hand on the small of her back, fingers grazing the upper rise of her ass until she reached the door. Fortunately, it was Rachel who met them there, her expression warm and welcoming. Though Jon was the most deceptively gentle of the K&A men, she wasn’t sure she could handle the intense scrutiny of two Doms right now.

“Marcie, it’s so good to see you again. Come on in, dearest.”

Why the affection made tears spring to her eyes, she didn’t know, but Marcie pushed them back, with effort. Rachel’s eyes held so much understanding, a kinship, as if she understood that Marcie was pure chaos right now, emotionally, physically. She and Jon were both into the spiritual chakra stuff. If Rachel read auras, Marcie expected hers probably looked like an LSD-induced kaleidoscope.

Ben withdrew his hand, a loss she felt everywhere, not just at the small of her back. When her gaze turned to him, he nodded. “You do as Rachel tells you,” he said. Then he was moving across the spacious living area to Jon. Rachel’s husband and Master was sitting at the kitchen island with the parts of what looked like an old phonograph machine laid out before him, complete with large conical-shaped speaker. A half-eaten dinner was on a plate at his elbow, next to a glass of wine. As Ben was approaching, he was already opening him a beer.

Jon didn’t speak to Marcie, just glanced at her with that familiar measuring look. She wouldn’t be acknowledged yet. Jon had turned her over to his submissive’s care and would determine her well-being from Ben. Her Master.

Or at least the one she wanted to call Master, so much she knew it was going to eventually slip from her lips. When she was feeling less vulnerable, she’d do it deliberately. Master, Master. Master. She wasn’t going to let him—

God, she was doing it again. But she couldn’t help it, damn it. She was unwilling to back down or give up, no matter if she had to sit on that pillow for the rest of her life. Except she hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because if she had to sit on it right now she might cry like a kindergartener.

“Marcie.” Rachel brought her back with a warm squeeze on her arm. “Come on. You’re caught in the zone. We need to get you grounded a bit better. Let’s check you out, all right?”

Rachel guided her up the open staircase, to the second level that held bedroom, home office, and a room with a massage table. In that room, there were clusters of lit candles that threw flickering light onto a tall stained-glass window with the design of a lotus blossom vine. A light installed behind it allowed the vibrant greens and browns to glow, even at night. Somewhere behind the array of delicate Japanese maples in the room, a flute piece was coming through a speaker system.

Okay, she’d definitely been expected. It embarrassed her, but Rachel was being her usual gentle but firm self, not allowing any of that nonsense.

“Let’s get your clothes off. No, honey, let me help. Your fingers are so cold and shaking.”

“I told Ben, I’m fine. I just—”

“You’re fine, but you need some help to stay that way.” She removed the sleeveless snug turtleneck. Marcie tried to help, to prove she didn’t need to be undressed like a child, but Rachel was right, because she fumbled over the zipper of the skirt. Rachel made a soft sound, brushed her hands away. As she stepped closer to reach around her to do that, her breasts pressed against Marcie’s.

She was wearing one of Jon’s soft worn T-shirts, jeans pulled on beneath it, suggesting the shirt had been a nightshirt until they received Ben’s call. It seemed a little early for wearing night clothes, but then she remembered Rachel was a 24/7. It was entirely possible that Jon preferred her naked in the house when it was just the two of them. The temperature in the house was more than comfortable for it.

The shirt smelled like a pleasing combination of Jon and his wife, and Rachel wore no bra under it. As a result, when Marcie felt the give of her generous breasts against her own, her nipples got hard again. Though her mind was logy, her body was still in an alert state, prepped for physical intimacy. Turning her face into Rachel’s thick blonde hair, she smelled her fragrant shampoo, the heat of her skin. She wanted to press her lips to the woman’s neck, taste her. Insanely enough, she did.

Rachel let out a sensual chuckle, pressed her hand to the side of Marcie’s face, allowing it a moment before she unhooked her bra, stepped back to slide it off Marcie’s arms, then turned her toward the massage table.