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

submissive wide open for her very first time, it made her impossibly vulnerable. For a short period, she would be overcome by vacillating emotions, her body hot and cold, aroused and calm, completely unpredictable. The wilder and stronger the sub, the wider that pendulum could swing.

Her Master was the touchstone for keeping a handle on that, helping her find the center, calm down again. Since her Master wasn’t here, Jon would take care of it, at least in this moment. But he thought Ben was going to regret not doing it himself, because Marcie was as wild and strong as they came, fueled by the idealism of youth and the determination of an old soul, a lethal combination.

Faced with the choice of leaving her alone here, waiting for Ben to never show, or taking her to the office and letting her throw the gauntlet down, Jon decided he was taking her to the office. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

I’m going to fail sociology. The professor blames everything from cockroach infestation to pimples on corporate greed. I’ve explained to him that corporations are run by people, which means they’re as diverse and generous as whoever is managing them. I also pointed out that since individuals are the largest source of donations in the country, if they don’t have jobs, which corporations provide, they can’t donate. He said I was a corporate drone. He was probably sitting on his ass in his office when you guys were trucking in supplies to Gulfport, MS, after Katrina. Do you still make that industrial spray foam at the Costa Rican plant? I want to fill up his Prius like a cream horn.

Letter from Marcie, sophomore year

 

I’ll ship you a case of it. Remember to wear gloves and don’t leave fingerprints. And burn this letter. Morons like that don’t realize a good teacher teaches you how to think for yourself. Their job isn’t to impose their own agenda.

Ben’s reply

 

Chapter Seven

When Marcie walked past Janet’s desk, she could tell from her expression that the admin was surprised to see her. So he’d told Janet she wasn’t coming in.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” she said. “I’m just checking on a few things.”

Janet gave her a handful of pink message slips. “He’s on a conference call right now in Matt’s office. They’ll probably be in there for an hour or so.”

Good. Maybe her stomach would move down from her throat and back into its proper area by then. All she’d been able to handle were those eggs. Jon had packed up the leftover toast, tucking it into a sandwich bag with a small jar of the jam. He’d suggested she eat some of that later. A nurturing Dom. He and Rachel were perfect for one another.

Marcie pulled out the document she’d been unable to finish yesterday and got to work. Her concentration was for shit, though, so she stopped to return some of the messages. She answered the calls on her feet because her ass still hurt enough to make sitting uncomfortable. But other symptoms concerned her more. Remembering the concern in Jon’s eyes as he held her, she wondered at it herself, how shaky she felt today. Her nerves were on high alert, her body vibrating like a hummingbird. She did carry a personal massager in her purse. Maybe she should take the edge off?

That vibrator stays in the nightstand drawer until I say otherwise. She shivered deliciously at the memory, the look on his face as he issued the order. He kept switching between taking over all her decisions, and wanting to cut her loose. It gave her hope and drove her crazy at once.

Her intercom buzzed. Janet. “Yes?” Marcie asked.

“Mr. O’Callahan says to use the pillow on the top shelf of his closet.”

“Did you tell him I was here?”

“No, I did not.”

“Jon told him?”

“Mr. Forte isn’t in the meeting.” Janet’s tone suggested she would very quickly tire of twenty questions. Truth, the woman was kind of scary, so Marcie thanked her and clicked off. How had he known? Was he pissed? Had she messed things up?

“Stop it, Marcie,” she muttered. “Get a grip.”

Going into his office, she found the pillow on the top shelf. When she brought it down, she couldn’t help herself. She pressed it to her face, inhaling his scent. She imagined him using it, the long, powerful body stretched out on the office couch. He’d kick off his shoes, probably shrug out of his shirt, and then flop down, one arm casually hooked over his head, studying the ceiling as he ran through the details of whatever had kept him late enough to decide to sleep here.

Now she visualized herself curled against his body, her head propped into the valley created by that raised arm. Her fingers would play with the light mat of hair across his chest as she gazed up into that strong face. Those beautiful green eyes would shift to her, studying her from such a relaxed position. She imagined waking up together. They could pull all-nighters together, because of course she’d love to work as part of his staff, his investigator.

She wrapped her arms around the pillow, hugging it to her. Folding herself down on the couch, she rested on her hip so she didn’t aggravate her abused buttocks. Just a quick second to lie here, where he had been. He didn’t sleep long hours, she was sure. There was such incredible energy to him.

She remembered the way he’d played with the younger kids on the evenings or weekends when they all got together. He was tireless, wrestling with Nate, racing the girls on their bikes, hauling the younger ones around on his shoulders in the pool. Some of her most intense early masturbating fantasies had to do with the way his broad chest and shoulders looked with beads of water rolling down them. The way the sun played across the dark silken hair that arrowed down to