Hostile Takeover (The Game #8) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Kink, M-M Romance, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
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“Are you two getting along?” Jack wondered.

I weighed my answer. “We keep things civil for Lily’s sake.”

His smile softened. “How’s Lily bug doing? I don’t think I’ve seen her since Easter.”

That was probably accurate. For Easter, we went to Samantha and Claire’s little sister’s place, but I’d been away on business this year.

“She’s coming out of her shell,” I replied, nodding slowly, thinking about her progress. “We had a couple rough weeks right around the time I moved out, but she’s bounced back quickly. It helped that I decorated her new bedroom exactly like her room at the house.”

Jack grinned. “Mom mentioned that. So she still has her fort underneath the bed?”

He remembered.

“Absolutely.” I chuckled. “Everything looks the same, from the pink wallpaper to her toys.”

I was going to complete the collection of doubles this Christmas. It’d taken me weeks, but I’d finally managed to track down the star-shaped lights she kept in her fort under the bed. They were a favorite of hers. And eBay was clearly my friend. So that was one Christmas gift down and several to go.

“I remember she wanted a pink Christmas tree a couple years ago.”

“Oh, she still does.” I shook my head in amusement. “I don’t see the bubblegum color scheme disappearing anytime soon. And I just might indulge her this year to make up for our lack of plans.”

Because Christmas had been our holiday to host, though not primarily for family. Sure, Claire usually found a weekend to fly down and visit, but Christmas was otherwise Samantha’s moment to shine at the country club. That was when she hosted dinners and brunches both there and at our house.

I’d loathed it, but Lily had a few friends her age—the granddaughter of someone I used to golf with, and the twin sons of one of Samantha’s girlfriends. This year, I had no idea what we’d do, other than the fact that we’d agreed the first Christmas would be mine since she got Thanksgiving.

“She’s a Daddy’s girl through and through,” Jack said. “I’m sure you’ll create new traditions with her that she’ll love.”

I hoped so. For me, it would be a break. No reason for fake smiles and trying to fit in. Because I’d always felt like a phony in the crowd Samantha loved the most.

The Dunes were a tricky family that way, because some of them were a treat to be around, while the others…less so. They came from old money that’d run out, in short. So a few of them, like Claire—even Jack, for that matter—had adapted and stepped out of the shadow of their family history. They’d gone to college and worked their way up. Others had married into newer wealth.

At one point, Samantha had been more similar to Claire in that regard. She’d had ambitions and career goals. She sure as hell hadn’t married me for money, because I’d just escaped the dorms and a diet of ramen when we’d tied the knot.

My train of thought was halted by the arrival of our cocktails, and it was just as well. I didn’t particularly enjoy going down memory lane.

I took a sip of my drink and nodded in approval.

“Are you ready to order, gentlemen?” the server asked.

“I think so.” Jack looked to me in question, and I nodded again.

“I’ll have the scallops with the Parmesan risotto, thank you,” I said.

“And I will try the Chilean sea bass,” Jack added. “Do you want to share a bottle of wine?”

“Sure. Whatever you recommend.” Wine wasn’t my area of expertise—not beyond the basics, anyway.

Jack had all the knowledge. He’d once told me that, in our world, bartending was a great skill. Mixing the right cocktail, choosing the perfect wine, were all part of reeling someone in. And he wasn’t wrong. I’d witnessed countless men change their minds over a box of Cuban cigars or the right bottle of scotch.

Jack knew how to fit in and did it seemingly without effort.

There was much more to him, though. Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of who he was when he had nobody to charm. For instance, when we’d visited him in New York and I’d gotten to see him chow down on a greasy cheeseburger in the middle of the night.

I’d woken up to go to the bathroom when I’d heard the sound of the TV in his living room. That was where I’d found him, with a delivery bag from McDonald’s, in the middle of the night, just him in a pair of sweatpants, a cheeseburger, and a news report running in the background.

His entertainment center held the latest gaming consoles from PlayStation and Xbox. As a teenager, he’d loved to shoot zombies, play football, and pour cereal onto his ice cream.

I missed that boy sometimes.

He was going to ask me about my sexuality soon. I had a feeling he was building up to it.


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