The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)

by T.L. Swan

“I’m not going to ask you how you know that there’s a brothel on the corner.” I raise my eyebrow. He frowns, realizing what he’s just revealed. “Shut up, Siri.”

LMFAOAAOAOOAOOAOS

I don’t have one insecurity when I’m naked with him. He wouldn’t let me even if I did.

Aweeeeee

“I missed this pretty pussy.”

Crazywork

“You all right?” he breathes. I nod. “Answer me.”

Oh period. I like that. We love a caring and attentive man

“What’s the lesson?” I whimper, his grip on my hair near painful. “You don’t get to break up with me.” He pumps me hard, and I nearly bounce headfirst into the wall. “We don’t end . . . until we both decide.”

“I missed you, Anderson,” he whispers as he brushes the hair back from my face. I stare up at him, shocked. An unwelcome emotion overwhelms me, and I blink to stop the tears. This isn’t how this is supposed to go.

Oh brother

“We’re so good together,” I whisper as I pull his face back to me. “In . . . in another life, we could have been great. Just not this one.”

“Promise me something.” “What?” He sighs, unimpressed. “Promise me . . . that sometimes . . . you’ll think of me.”

Girl that's selfish

I can’t get Claire fucking Anderson out of my head.

She’s wrong for me . . . in every sense. There is nothing that we have in common, and she’s right—we live different lives in different worlds.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” I sigh. “I’m sorry.” I shrug. “I have no excuse, because you’re perfect.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “Do you want to talk about it in bed?”

Girl??? Give me a brwak

“Nice, huh?” The lights blink as I unlock it. He whistles as he walks around it. “A brand-new Aston Martin.” “Uh-huh.” “In sapphire black.” He gasps in awe. “You got it.” I smile. “You like these cars?” “I love these cars.” I smile. “Maybe if you get your license, you can have a drive of it.” “Really?” His eyes widen in excitement. I shrug. “Sure, why not?”

OMGGGGGG AWEEE

Bye, Tristan.” She forces a nervous smile, and I glare at her. I watch as they walk out, get into his car, and drive away. I turn to Fletcher. “What are you going to do about this?” “Nothing. Why?” “Why aren’t you attacking him with underpants?” I snap, annoyed. “What good are you if you’re not going to be consistent?”

LMFMFAOOOAOAAOOAOAA

“You coming in?” “Yes, I am, actually.” I walk into the house, angered that I’ve been discriminated against so abysmally.

Aweeee omg stop i love this

“And anyway, how come you didn’t attack Paul from Pilates? Why is she allowed to go out with him?” “Oh.” Fletcher shrugs. “He’s gay.” I narrow my eyes in delight. “Oh, he is . . . is he?”

LOLLLLL

“Well, where am I going to sleep?” I ask. “I can’t drive.” “Call your limo driver.” “He’s off tonight.” “Why not call an Uber?” “They ran out of cars.”

LMFOAOAAOAAOAAOAOAOOA

The engine ticks as it tries to start, but it just won’t. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.” This car is fucking new. I try to start it again and again.

Ik this is Harry's doing

“Because I can’t fight this anymore. I can’t pretend that I don’t want you. Because I do.”

“Mom, I tried to tell him it was too much, and he told me I can’t wear cheap suits if I want to be taken seriously.”

Omg awwwweee

He licks me again, his eyes closing once more, and it becomes very clear that he isn’t in control of his actions anymore.

“Harder,” I whisper around him. He pushes in deep again, and this time I flick my tongue. His cock jerks, and he staggers forward. He’s close already. We find a rhythm.

All this during lunch is insane

“Someone has put sugar in the gas tank.” “What?” “Someone who had access to your key has put a shit ton of sugar in your tank. It seized the motor.” I screw up my face. “Are you kidding me? Who would . . .” My voice trails off. The wizard.

Knew it

Diet, exercise programs, no blue lights on screens . . . nothing has worked. It pains me to admit it, but Harry needs his dad. More than the other two, and I’m so out of my depth that I have no idea what to do with him.

“Give Tristan some room, bubba,” I remind him. Patrick’s face falls as he realizes what he’s doing, and he moves back. Tristan grabs him and pulls him close again. “It’s cool. Stay close, brother.”

AWEEEEE TRISTAN

“This.” He holds up his skateboard. “What about it?” “The wheels are missing.” All four wheels are missing from his skateboard. Patrick’s mouth falls open in horror. “Oh no,” he whispers.

LMFAOAOOOAOOWOAAOAO

“Tristan probably has somewhere better to go, bubba,” I reply. Tristan’s eyes hold mine. “No. I’m exactly where I want to be. I’ll stay, if that’s okay.” Hope fills my chest. Okay . . . what the heck is going on here?

“I thought we were just fucking,” I whisper. He frowns and leans forward. “Claire . . . I’ve never just fucked you. Never once have we just fucked,” he whispers.

Oooo he ate that

“You are only thirty-eight, Claire. You could give me my own children, if that’s what we decided. We could make it work, all of us together.” What? My face falls in shock. “You’ve thought about this?” “Of course I’ve fucking thought about this,” he snaps. “I wouldn’t be pursuing this if I didn’t see a future.” I stare at him, lost for words.

OMGGGGAWEEEEE TRISTAN

“I want you, Claire. From the moment I left Paris, I have wanted you.”

“And you?” I ask. “What about me?” “How did you get to do the acquisitions?” He smiles into his wineglass. “I’m good at numbers and taking calculated risks.”

Oh im sure he is

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For what?” “For being everything that I thought you weren’t.” He smiles. “No, thank you.” He raises his glass to mine. “For being exactly who I thought you were.”

Omggg i can't

Their eyes widen as they stare at me, and then, as if remembering their manners, they smile.

“Oh, you know.” Tristan smiles as he puts his arm around me. “Bit of this and a bit of that.” Christopher laughs. That’s code for sex.

Elliot’s eyes come to me. “What do you think, Claire?” “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I reply. He smiles softly as his eyes go back to admiring the painting. “Yes, it is.”

Patrick still has Tristan’s hand in a viselike grip. He looks up the road with a worried face. “I don’t want you to go home,” he stammers. “What?” Tristan frowns. “What if there’s a drunk driver?” He looks around in a panic. “It’s very dark, and . . . it’s not safe.” Drunk driver. He’s referring to the way his father died.

Omgggg i actully cant hes so cutie awwwwww

“Come on. I’ll sleep on the couch.” “Tris, it’s okay. You don’t have to,” I reply. He turns back to me. “Yeah, I do, Claire. I don’t want him to worry about anything, least of all me.”

I think about how excited he was that I was staying, and I smile to myself.

“I love you, Tristan,” she whispers. I get a lump in my throat as my eyes search hers. “A . . . great deal, actually.” “It’s about fucking time, Anderson,” I whisper.

Aweeeeeee

“They will suddenly be urgent for the takeover to happen.”

Title ref

“You don’t want your own kids?” he asks. “I do.” I undo my tie with a sharp snap. “But I want your mother more.”

Aweeww

The boys have miraculously done their homework, dinner is finished and cleaned up, and now they have a precious two hours to work on their model. This bribery of Tristan’s is the best thing since sliced bread.

The dad that stepped up

“Tristan,” a voice calls out from the kitchen. He smiles as his eyes widen. “Did you hear that?” he whispers. “What?” I frown. He raises his eyebrows as he waits for it, and eventually, the voice calls out again. “Tristan.” “That’s the first time he’s ever said my name.” “Harry’s never said your name?” I frown.

It’s funny, you know—Tris has never said those elusive three words. But he doesn’t have to. I already know that he loves me.

I undo the zipper of the side pocket and pull out a crumpled, wet packet of cigars. What? I read the label. Not just any cigars—expensive ones. Where the fuck did he get the money for these? He smokes?

Wtf

SUFFOLK COUNTY CEMETERY My heart drops. There’s only one person I know who may be here. Wade Anderson. He was coming to see his dad. Sadness fills me as the pieces of the puzzle click into place. With a heavy heart, I turn the car on and do a U-turn. I need to get back.

Omg :((((

“Do you want to go see your dad?” I ask. His eyes search mine, and he drops his head and stares at the cigars once more. That means yes. I pull out into the street, and after a very silent car ride, I park the car at the cemetery.

Omgggg Tristan is literally so sweet

The family he loved . . . is now with me. In my care, for me to love. “Nice to meet you, Wade,” I whisper.

I actually cant

The man whom I love, taking my son to see his dead father . . . smoking a cigar with them. And I know that Harrison is too young to smoke, and they shouldn’t be doing this. I should be furious. I should be appalled . . . but then . . . Wade loved cigars.

Omg so so so heartfelt

I don’t want them to see me. I turn and walk back to my car, the tears streaming down my face. I get in, and without looking back, I drive home in tears. I’m in love with a beautiful man.

He did something, he did something very special for me . . . and for Wade—and to know that he has Harry’s back when I didn’t cuts my heart wide open.

Im actually going to cry