Hostile Takeover (37 page)

“It is. But with him. Only him. What if he doesn’t…” She’d imagined being part of this circle for a long time, but she hadn’t thought what it would be like to be the fifth wheel of it.

Torment. Just like it was for Ben.

“Marcie?” Savannah spoke in that quiet, steady way of hers that commanded instant attention. “No, you don’t need to look toward me. Just feel. And listen, when it’s time to do so.”

She could do that. Cass pressed a kiss to her forehead, touched her nose then moved out of her view. Marcie’s fingers curled into Dana’s as Savannah sent that cube of ice gliding the length of what felt like one of the rawhide marks, down over the pitting caused by the rattan points. A drop of water rolled down her buttock, into the crease. It was pretty close to her pussy, and that was starting to throb. She had her legs closed, but she wanted them open, wanted to feel that ice glide over labia, touch her clit and make her writhe.
Get a grip, Marcie. This is
Savannah,
Matt’s wife.
Who was probably the only woman in the history of the world who could walk with a regal sway, versus an adorable waddle, during advanced pregnancy.

But her mind couldn’t help but turn to Ben, how he’d used ice in a far more invasive way to cool her down, to stop her orgasm when she couldn’t do it herself. Dana made it worse, because now she bent her head, brushed her lips to Marcie’s palm, her wrist. When she used the tip of her tongue, Marcie let out a breath, fingers gripping Dana’s more tightly. “Guys…what…” Then she remembered what Savannah had said.
Feel. Listen.

“That was Max at the door,” Savannah said in that same conversational murmur. “He was making sure you were okay, that you’d come to us, rather than sneaking off to bed.”

“They really are the most overprotective, interfering males
ever
,” Marcie muttered. She’d tried to do that. Couldn’t. What would happen when Max told Matt? Maybe she could get Savannah to intervene. This was between her and Ben, and if it was over, it was over. She didn’t need anything else stirred up while her heart was already shattering and fragile. She didn’t even have the energy to broach the topic now.

“Yes, God bless them. I’ve known Ben O’Callahan a long time. He is an extreme Master.” Savannah’s fingers followed the ice, the overlay of stripes and marks, two days’ worth of his Dominance. “But anger never plays a role in that part of his life. He does have an Irish temper, but it’s usually reserved for professional incompetence.”

“And when the Saints lose,” Dana added.

“He deserves to be horsewhipped, and we are not going to make excuses for him. But I am going to tell you this. In the time I’ve known him, he’s never lost control with a woman like this. Matt agreed.”

Marcie stilled. “You told him.” Of course she had. She’d been in the hot tub twenty minutes, so that explained where Savannah had gone. Cass had joined her at some point, so did that mean Lucas knew too? Oh hell, if Matt knew, they probably all did.

“I don’t want…this was between him and me.”

“No, dearest.” Savannah’s voice was firm. Dana’s hand had landed on her shoulder, anticipating Marcie trying to push up off the lounger. Rachel began a deep rub of her back designed to turn her into a limp noodle. As she struggled between alarm and the need to purr, Savannah continued.

“Women can fight their own battles, but thanks to Matt, I’ve learned true strength includes the ability to seek backup when needed. You took this on all by yourself. You brought the fight to Ben, did all sorts of dangerous things to draw him out. You knew enough about him to know what would work, but you had no idea how it would play out. That’s the foolish courage of youth.”

Marcie couldn’t bristle over the simple truth. Not when Savannah’s voice was kind, not patronizing. “You needed that type of courage, the belief that you could handle whatever kind of bull charged out onto that field. Because at a certain point, instead of the matador, you became the red cape.”

That ache came to the surface again. “So I screwed up.”

“Not necessarily.” Savannah resumed her glide with the ice. Marcie bit her lip as she followed the curve of her buttock and touched down on her leg. Several more drops ran down her inner thigh, making her twitch. “I’ve no idea what the outcome will be, but set aside emotions. Focus on what you know of Ben, all that wonderful research I’m sure you did. Based on that, what is the most significant thing I’ve said to you?”

Marcie opened her eyes, glanced down the length of her body at the woman who met her gaze with piercing intelligence. Her mind was like a spaghetti soup, but when a successful Fortune-500 female CEO told her to review the details and come up with an answer, she dove into the tangle.

“In the time you’ve known him, he’s never lost control with a woman like this.”

“Good.” Savannah nodded her approval. “By the way, when you start seeking permanent employment, I’ll pay you twenty percent more than Pickard or K&A. Plus give you a corner office and your own assistant.”

Marcie blinked.
Wow.
That certainly bolstered her, but her mind was turning over the statement. She wanted to believe, but… “He could have lost it because he sees me as a little kid. The big-brother protective thing.”

Rachel snorted. She passed a hand over Marcie’s buttock, offering a light scrape with her nails that made Marcie jump, not in an unpleasant way. The physical therapist’s quiet chuckle had a sensual note to it. “No, Marcie. He most definitely doesn’t see you as a child. No matter how much he’s telling himself he does.”

On the back of Rachel’s collar, next to the locking mechanism, Marcie knew there was a Sanskrit word.
Owned.
To wear something like that of Ben’s…it was all she wanted.

The gray mist parted, letting in some of those unsettling feelings, but their words were giving her wounded heart stray shots of hope. If they were wrong, she’d be opening herself to being stabbed again, and she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough. Even now, remembering Ben’s anger at the limo, his contempt, his…

She didn’t want it to happen, but she’d pushed that part of tonight’s events furthest behind the gray mist for a reason. She hadn’t let it affect her in years, but in that moment, when he had her shoved against the limo, when she realized she couldn’t fight him off, and he wasn’t necessarily going to let her go, she’d remembered Allen, pushing her down on the floor, holding his forearm on her throat, not realizing she couldn’t breathe as he tore at her clothes…

When a man attacked a woman, she never forgot it. It was in her head, the violence in his hands, the meanness in his face… Ben had betrayed what she knew of him, and she’d trusted him. The way she’d trusted Jeremy. Her brother hadn’t pulled Allen off her. Cass had.

How could she trust Dr. Jekyll when she’d seen Mr. Hyde? She was shaking again. She’d told herself she wouldn’t let her mind go in this direction. She was a clear-headed person, one who didn’t let past baggage affect her present, but she was surrounded by women who knew what it was to be entirely vulnerable to the one they loved. It was a confessional she couldn’t resist.

“He was…I’ve never seen him like that. I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt me…like for real hurt, hit me in the face. It was someone else, some dark, terrible thing inside of him. It was like he hated me at that moment. I was…I was scared of him. I hate that. I don’t want that.”

She shouldn’t be saying this. Cass was still in the room. But saying it out loud helped steady her, look at it with clearer eyes. Ben wasn’t a chronic abuser of women. She knew that. Something else had happened tonight. It was as Savannah had implied. She needed to step back, look at all of it, not to make excuses for him, but to get all the information, figure it out, before she made the decision that was best for her. Even if it was a decision that broke her heart.

“I think it’s time you and Matt talked,” Savannah said after a quiet moment. “This is in your hands, Marcie. But you have a family. We’ll help you.”

And him. It was an odd thought, but being surrounded by their love and support made her wonder where Ben was, if he was still walking around in the cold darkness of the city streets, alone.

“Keep in mind, whatever you decide, I’m still going to kill him,” Cass said. She put a small ice pack against Marcie’s lip.

“Me too,” Dana said. “As long as someone points me toward him. I’ll break his kneecap, then he can’t outrun me.”

Marcie smiled beneath the ice pack. “I’d like to see that.”

Peter’s wife dropped another kiss on her knuckles. “You got to him, Marcie. This is a tricky, difficult situation, but I’ll bet good money he doesn’t know what the hell to do with how he feels about you.”

That made two of them. Things had become more complicated and uncertain because of the evening’s events, and she wasn’t going to get it worked out in her head tonight. But that was what tomorrow was for, right?

“All right. Time to take care of some other things.” As if discerning her thoughts, Cass rose. “I’m going to go make you some chocolate chip cookies.”

“Nestle Tollhouse?”

“Is there any other kind? Hot out of the oven. I’ll be back.”

As Cass rose and moved to the kitchen, Savannah picked up another ice cube. Marcie had been listening for the tiny clicks of her manicured nails against the bowl, each time anticipating the first really cold touch of the frosted ice, then that combination warm-cold feeling as it melted against her skin, the beads of water working their way down, both agitating and soothing the welts. Savannah took this one on a different track. After she circled it over her buttocks, she pressed it between, a slow, slow glide into that crevice, over the rim, and then down, down, toward the aching center core.

Marcie’s fingers tightened on Dana’s, her thighs trembling, wanting to loosen. “What…”

“It’s all right.” This from Rachel, whose hands were still working their magic. “Just feel, Marcie. Enjoy. Do whatever your body wants you to do.”

“But…” Her Master hadn’t given her permission to enjoy this. To experience this. Given the night’s events, though, it seemed a fair trade. She made a noise of sheer ecstasy as Rachel’s strong hands worked a particularly good spot.

“There we go. That works, doesn’t it? Roll with the feeling.”

“Spread your legs out, if that’s what you wish to do,” Savannah said.

Tentative, Marcie shifted. Dana made a warm sound of approval. The black woman had shifted to her knees by the lounger, and her kiss on Marcie’s palm this time became something more. She teased Marcie’s pulse with her tongue, followed the vein.

“Ah…” A soft sound escaped as a result of that stimulation, as well as what Savannah was doing. The ice moved between her legs, Savannah tracing her labia, letting the tip of the ice slide between and letting it go, where it would melt, the drops following the path of gravity to drip over her clit. Another click in that metal bowl and Marcie’s hips lifted to her, asking for more. She couldn’t help it. Was she really doing this?

Yes, she was. Her sister had left the room, knowing they could provide this, knowing what she needed.

“I think it’s time for you and me to change positions, Ice Princess.” Dana directed that at Savannah. “If you think you can roll you and the mighty Matt mite in this direction.”

“You are the only one who gets away with calling me that.”

“Afraid to punch a blind girl?”

Savannah snorted, didn’t answer that. “I don’t need to roll,” she said with dignity. “As long as I get a push from behind.”

Marcie tilted her head to see Dana do just that, her hands incredibly gentle as she helped Savannah to her feet. She noticed Dana also caressed Savannah’s swollen belly under the silk tunic, and Savannah’s lips curved at the gesture. Matt’s wife had always been the more austere aunt of the K&A family, even when Marcie eavesdropped on those tea parties. Cass told her it had taken Savannah far longer to trust their female circle than the other women, but that it had taken the K&A men a long time to win her faith as well.

“You understand him, don’t you?” Maybe it was the moment, feeling like nothing was off limits, but that austerity that always kept her somewhat at arm’s length with Matt’s wife felt a little less restrictive right now.

Savannah paused long enough that Marcie was about to apologize, retreat, but then the elegant fingers wrapped around hers, tightened.

“I give Ben a great deal of credit for what he made of himself. When I met Matt, the official story about Ben was that he’d spent most of his formative years in New England, and he and Matt had met at Yale. Nothing about him suggested otherwise, as if he’d internalized that version of himself. They protected his past, not to make his life a lie, but so that he could stand away from it, not be defined by it, though of course emotionally, he still is.

“It is a mortal wound, when you realize that your parents don’t love you. Don’t want you. What dies is hard to resurrect, because we learn faith and trust on the foundation of our parents’ love. Even if Ben carries such a wound, his behavior tonight seems extreme to me. However, my father’s coldness was buffered by a house, servants, physical safety. A lack of material want. Ben didn’t have any of those things.”

“Okay.” Marcie squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. Both for asking and for the fact that happened to you. I’ve loved you since I met you, even though you’ve always been a little intimidating.”