Hostile Takeover Hill, W (thriller books to read .txt) 📖

was driving up to Baton Rouge for an overnight to follow up on the Pickard work, which was plausible, because there were a couple things she could check out there after she handled the Dumpster job here.

Catching a movement in her peripheral vision, she noticed one of Ben’s neighbors standing on the sidewalk, a trio of apricot toy poodles in her arms, too stunned to be yappy. The woman was staring at Marcie in a fascinated, horrified way. Marcie gave her a dignified nod. “He deserved it, I promise,” she said.

The woman’s lips twitched. Putting the poodles down, she continued on her morning walk with only a couple backward looks.

Max handed her his handkerchief. When Marcie glanced at him, puzzled, he touched a fingertip to her face, letting her feel the tears. “Oh shit,” she muttered. She mopped her face with it, blew her nose with a ferocious snort that had his brows rising. “Please take me home, Max. I want to stop on the way for a brownie from Starbuck’s. I’ll treat you to a coffee and you can have this omelet. I think I’d choke on it at this point.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, a glint in his eyes. Then he held the door for her.

Holy hell. He’d hit the floor like Peter under enemy fire when those first stones came through. “Fuck,” Ben snarled, under a shower of glass. Only two things kept him from shoving up from the floor to wear her ass out. One, he got hard as steel from the thought of punishing her, which undermined the whole getting-rid-of-her scenario. Two—more importantly—he deserved her anger. It was his fault for letting it go this far, and so he would take the cost. Which was apparently eight perfectly preserved panes of pre-Civil War glass. Fuck, fuck and triple fuck.

Once she was done with her diatribe and he heard the limo pull away, he fished out his cell. Staying on the floor, he put in a call to his maid and maintenance services for glass cleanup and window replacement, respectively. But every word she’d shouted at him was echoing in his mind. He could imagine how she’d looked yelling at him, those gorgeous brown eyes flashing, her hair a swirl around her face, breasts heaving and fists clenched. Damn it, he was getting stiff against the floorboards, thinking about how he’d deal with her in such a temper.

I swear to God, I’m going to have to cut off my own dick.

Ben rolled to his back. He didn’t feel like getting up yet. He’d heard her threat about the club, but he also heard the waver of uncertainty behind it. She was just working off a mad, even though he had no doubt she’d end up there by herself at some point if he didn’t give her some direction. She was that stubborn. He’d make sure she had the numbers of those other Doms he’d talked about. Once she calmed down, she’d be smart enough to take them, even if her initial motive in doing so was to make him jealous. It wouldn’t. That’s what he told himself. They were nice, young, calm and sedate guys. Doms she’d find so boring they’d put her to sleep.

They were too lighthanded. Even when she was crying out from every blow, her ass kept rising up to the cane, the spatula, the flogger. Those strikes made her wet, made her beg for more. Christ.

He needed to get to Houston. If he was smart, he’d stay there for a couple months. Or he’d come back tonight, go to Progeny himself. No, too much risk of dealing with someone he knew. He might go to Surreal. Take a taxi from the airport, hang out there until closing, have one of the limos pick him up and bring him home. He’d find a sub who’d help him forget how he’d fucked this up. He’d call Lucas later, maybe, explain the situation, though he wasn’t really sure how to do that. Maybe he’d wait and see what Marcie was going to do. She might not tell them. She was mad, and her pride was probably hurt.

He wanted to ignore the niggling thought that it went deeper than that, but he wouldn’t duck that responsibility. He’d taken her too deep, let her get too close. It was better to wound her now, when it wasn’t mortal.

He’d take her anger. Her tears would destroy him.

Ben: Congratulations on the five thousand you raised to help the off campus domestic violence shelter. Cass said you’ve been volunteering there. She also told me about that run-in with a husband ignoring a restraining order. She said you wouldn’t let him come into the house, basically backed him down. You have a tendency to take things to extremes, brat. A guy won’t stop to think about assault charges when he’s got a red haze in front of his eyes. Btw, we’re matching the funds you raised, and I’ve already authorized having a security system and panic button installed at the shelter.

 

Marcie: My knight in shining armor (lol). You guys are so overprotective, but I know the shelter will really appreciate it. As far as the asshole (aka husband) I just had to prove to him I had bigger balls. I did JJ. Seriously, don’t worry about me. I’m no different from you guys. If I don’t stick up for what’s right, for what I know is truth, no matter what the world throws at me, then what kind of person am I?

 

Ben: Not a corpse. Just be careful, brat. Who will interrupt my day with her incessant letters, texts and emails if you’re not around?

 

Marcie: That’s true. I’m not sure if most of the women you date are literate.

 

Email exchange between Ben and Marcie

Chapter Eleven

Marcie paused inside the foyer of Surreal, breathed deep. She’d chosen to spend some of her K&A intern salary on a car service to bring her here, because she’d made