Page 44 of Van Cort

EVERETT

Frustrated with fucking everything, I stare at the clock on the wall in my office as the minute hand ticks closer to eight-thirty.

Twenty-seven goes past, and twenty-eight, and I can feel the full-on rage of years previous to this starting to infiltrate sense.

It doesn’t matter that I know where she’s been for the last few days in that damned office three floors down, or that she appears to be excellent in her financial abilities if the work I’ve already seen is to be believed. I’m still pissed.

Majorly.

And I told her eight-thirty. The email was clear.

As far as I’m concerned, whilst she’s working for me, what I say goes.

Tie that in with the fact that she fucking dismissed me to spend time with someone she wouldn’t disclose, and my errant emotions have become involved.

They’re causing a rampant mess of conflicting thoughts and opinions to collide. It’s concerning. And invigorating.

“Your eight-thirty is here,” springs into the air from my intercom. I swing my gaze to the door, pissed that it isn’t Devon talking and unsure how to answer, anyway. At least she’s back tomorrow.

Still, I take a deep breath.

Calm. Measured. Unemotional.

“Send her in.”

The door opens immediately, and she walks in in a sleek, green suit that seems so far away from the River I now know. Hair up – I take my time looking down her body until I reach her high heels.

She smiles tightly and places a briefcase on the floor before taking a seat opposite me.

“Hello, Mr Van Cort.” My brow arches at the formality.

“I assume it is Mr Van Cort today, or Sir? Which would you prefer? It’s certainly not Everett, is it?

The tone of your email suggested professional, and God knows we wouldn’t want to offend you by not complying.

” I don’t reply. Antagonising me in this mood isn’t the wisest. Mixed emotions and me combine about as well as alcohol and me.

Badly. “Nothing to say to that? Fine. What am I here for then?”

I open my desk drawer and sling a bound folder on the surface in front of her, barely able to hold my temper in check. “This is one of my companies. Analyse the financials.”

She reaches for the folder, seeming surprised at the request. “One of your companies?”

“Yes.”

“Do any other companies align with, or interfere with, or transact with this one?” I want to smile at the inference she doesn’t know she’s making. I don’t.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Just one other.”

She opens the folder and starts scanning, flipping pages. “Can I have that information?”

“Not yet. No. Who were you with?” Her hand stops on a page, but she keeps her head in the financials.

“Someone.”

“Male or female?” That brings her head up to me.

“It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does.”

She closes the folder and places her hands on it. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like not knowing.”

“Clearly.”

“Who was it?” She shifts in her seat but sets a grim line of determination on her features. “You’re not going to answer me?” Still no reply.

I stand and watch her keep her eyes fixed on me as I round my desk and lean on it in front of her. “How would you like it if the roles were reversed?”

“I wouldn’t.” My questioning brow should be enough of a clue as to what I expect out of her mouth next.

“I’m still not answering, Everett. Much as I like you, I won’t be dictated to like this.

” She pushes her chair back away from me, chin high in defiance.

“If this is truly going to be as perfect as I hope, I need trust and honesty, and you taking my word as my bond. You wanted compatibility when we were away, and I gave it to you. You wanted to consider something beyond just physical, but this” – she waves her hand at me – “is almost neanderthal behaviour.”

“Neanderthal?”

“Yes.”

A long breath pulls in and out of me in an attempt to stop the Neanderthal she’s suggesting from emerging.

It doesn’t work. My dick is already hard, and my patience is wearing thinner by the second.

“You wouldn’t believe how close I am to exactly that, but, as I’m not one, I’ll ask again, who were you with? ”

This time, she folds her arms as if this is an argument she can win. It isn’t.

Patience and sense decimated, I reach for her arm and yank her up against me.

She puffs out a breath as she lands on my chest.

“Tell me.”

Her head rears back. “No.”

I spin her and reach for the hem of her skirt, hoisting it up at the same time as pushing her over the desk. A rough hand travels up her thigh and widens it, fingers delving straight inside her. She immediately squirms in my hold and tries getting up. It’s too late for niceties.

My hand holds her shoulders firmly down and it roams until it’s on the side of her face to keep her exactly where she is. “It was a really simple fucking question, River.”

“And I’m still not answering it,” she spits back.

Fine.

Shoving my hips to her ass to keep her where I want her, I reach for my belt with my free hand.

It gets wrenched loose, and before she’s got a chance to object or speak, I’m lining up to get inside her.

One hard push and I’m fully in, less than no care about whether it hurts her, or if she even wants it.

She grunts as I pull out and shove back in again, and again, and again, and I watch her fingers claw at the leather on the desk.

Panting comes after that, from both of us, ragged and near crazed.

We’re in the middle of something I’ve not been close to as an adult.

It’s all need and possession and hard hands that take what they want without asking permission.

My body folds over hers, hand reaching for her wrist, and my teeth bite at the line of her jaw. I’m fucking possessed, infatuated, pissed with her attitude. I don’t stop taking every second of what she’s caused, either. I take, and I devour, and I show her what refusal gets her.

Clothes get stripped from her skin, and mine, and eventually she’s facing me and I’m carrying her to a wall with me still buried inside her.

Her face stays turned from me, and I don’t care about that until she finally brings her lips to mine and truly engages in what she instigated.

Our teeth clash, and our fingers bite into flesh.

Nails shred the skin on my back like they were doing my desk, and I enjoy it – every fucking second of it.

No remorse, no pretence. I even smile when she slaps me out of nowhere and then brings my face back to hers.

More lips, more teeth, more seething anger from both of us, and before long, she’s coming, and I can’t hold myself back from it either.

I want to roar out my bliss and hear her let the whole fucking world know what’s just happened.

Instead, I smother her mouth as she comes, swallow down my own sound, and attempt to hold my teeth off her neck when I do.

We stay like that for some time, with her clinging onto me and me refusing to pull out of her.

Every second that passes cements her to me.

Hunger and craving fight their way through me, consuming me, and my tongue roams her skin to keep the taste of her present.

This moment, more than any before now, overrides every vision of her perfection I’ve seen of her so far.

It gives me what I need for who I truly am beneath this fucking mask.

It gives me me again after too fucking long. It gives me honesty. Gives her it, too.

“I’m not sure I consented to that,” she muses.

I lick her neck again. “Hmm.”

“Anyone could have walked in.”

I bring my face up to look at her, a soft grin on my lips. “No one just walks into this office. No one would dare.”

“They wouldn’t, huh?”

“No. Never.”

She drops a leg from around my waist, loosening her grip on my shoulders. “Why not?”

“Because people don’t go against my instruction. And, without my funding, or cooperation, three-quarters of this city doesn’t exist. No one wants to piss off Van Cort.” I look at her staring me down. “Apart from you, it appears.”

“You pissed yourself off, Everett. I reacted to your insecurities.”

“You reacted badly. That wasn’t the way to handle me.”

“I reacted appropriately. Didn’t you say you like someone with a little bite?

It doesn’t seem to have ended with us breaking up, so…

” She shifts sideways, attempting to remove me from inside her.

I stop her with heavy hands. “Although who knows what might happen if this type of bullshit carries on.” My brow arches.

“Mind-blowing sex doesn’t get rid of the behaviour leading up to it, or that fucking email, Everett.

” Hmm. She pushes me hard and slips out of my hold.

“Is that really something you want me to analyse?” What?

I search for my pants and look back to see her reaching her naked form over to pick up the folder. “This?”

“I’m not over the mind-blowing fuck yet, River. Give me a chance to breathe.”

“By all means, take your time. You’re the one paying for mine.” I smile slightly and pull my pants on.

“How about you stay naked on my desk and forget the work.” She drops the folder on my desk and glares at me, hands on her hips.

“That isn’t all I am, Everett. Whatever that was, no matter how fucking good, it’s only part of me, and I will not be belittled or pushed into whatever shape you require of me.”

“And yet here you are, naked, in my office.”

“Fuck you.”

I lean on the desk near the folder she dropped. “I think I just did that. It’s a bit late for you to attempt taking charge.”

“That’s what you think this was? You taking charge?

” She huffs and walks across the room, grabbing at her clothes as she goes and getting into them.

“This wasn’t that, Everett. This was your way of showing aggression, and I hope, heated passion, because you couldn’t get what you wanted, and I’m frustrated.

Guess what?” She slips her feet into her heels and pulls on her suit jacket.

“Nothing’s changed. I’m still annoyed with you, more so, actually.

And I’m still unsure what the hell any of this is about, unless you don’t trust me. ”

“You’re the one who wanted honest communication.”

“I did. I do. But get a goddamn grip of yourself. Honest communication doesn’t mean every second of my life is yours, or if you demand something, I’ll tell you.” She turns on her heels and begins walking out, apparently done with any conversation.

“River?” She pauses near the door. “You forgot your work. Contractually, you’re still obliged to do whatever the fuck I tell you to, regardless of your temper.

” She swings around and walks to me, snatching the folder from the desk and pointing a finger at me.

I wait, ready for any retaliation she’ll try.

She doesn’t open her mouth, though. She just storms back to the door again.

A smile creeps across my face as I watch her ass.

She’s absolute perfection like this. Fierce, fiery, completely absorbing to me.

“I’ll have an office ready for you in the morning.

Close by this time. Don’t be late.” She doesn’t even look back, just slams the door on her way out.

Whatever was in my mind about love and obsession, and whatever those emotions mean to me, triples tenfold. I don’t even try to control it.