13. Valentina
13
VALENTINA
T he wedding was a week and a half away now, and I couldn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time without waking up in a panic, remembering something else that had to be done in these final days.
I had never dreaded something while still looking forward to it as much as this last meeting in Evan’s office. It would be good to finalize a few things with him and make sure everything was on track. This meant we absolutely, positively could not fall into the same damn trap we always did, no matter that it had been more than two weeks since the last time we were together at his place during the storm.
One of us had to be smarter, and it had to be me. There was no way we were continuing this after the wedding. We couldn’t. I couldn’t. The past several weeks had screwed me up enough as it was.
Then there was Rose and the baby. We would have to clear the air eventually. I couldn’t keep breaking down the way I was. I would have to eventually tell Evan how much he’d hurt me back then, though I didn’t have the words to express it. He needed to hear that I didn’t trust him to understand and couldn’t handle the possibility of being rejected again, the way he’d brushed me aside and treated me like an inconvenience when I told him about the baby. I couldn’t risk finding out he had truly never cared the way I cared about him.
I owed it to myself to set things straight. But now wasn’t the time, not with the wedding so close and so much hanging in the balance.
I would be in and out. We could be professional. He had to know how hectic our schedule was now that we were so close to the end. No doubt he was busy too. We both had more than this single event to manage.
It didn’t matter how many times I told myself to be good and stick to my guns. I couldn’t ignore the way my heart rate spiked as I climbed out of the car after pulling into the lot at the country club. He would be waiting for me upstairs, maybe even watching me from the window. I was no better than a teenager with a crush as I entered the clubhouse, heading straight for the stairs leading to the second-floor offices. My heart beat a little faster with every step, telling me I’d have to force myself to get a grip.
His assistant’s desk was empty when I approached his closed office door. Maybe he was in there with her. I tapped tentatively against the door with my nails, listening for any voices coming from inside. “Come in!” was all I heard, Evan’s voice ringing out loud and clear and maybe a bit tight. Tense.
I eased the door open and found him sitting at his desk, his jacket slung over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up. “Come in, make yourself comfortable,” he grunted out, staring at his computer screen .
Dammit, how was he even hotter now? All absorbed by his work, scowling as he forcefully typed a message.
“What did that poor keyboard ever do to you?” I asked, crossing the room and taking a seat. I couldn’t stop staring at him the entire way. His jaw was tight enough to crack a walnut, his nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed at the screen.
“It’s not a big deal,” he explained, though the rigid set of his jaw told a different story. He was pissed, fighting to hold his temper, which shouldn’t have turned me on the way it did. He was never so much fun as he was when he lost control. Right now, he was teetering on the edge, and the crackling energy pouring off him was an aphrodisiac.
What the hell was I thinking? I had to be better than this. I owed it to myself. “Is there anything I can help with?”
He shook his head, pounding a few more keys before tapping his trackpad. “I was emailing my father’s lawyer in response to a message they sent this morning.”
His father.
There weren’t many topics that could piss him off as easily or as thoroughly as that man. I didn’t really know him. It wasn’t like Evan had brought me around to meet the family, even when we were sneaking off together whenever we had the chance that one summer. Still, I had heard about him repeatedly, incessantly. And it didn’t look like time had eased any of the resentment.
“What’s going on?” I asked, forgetting work for a minute when he looked at me with what could only be described as rage written across his face. Something else that time hadn’t erased was the impulse to comfort him when I could.
“Dad showed up here on Sunday to tell me he and Mom are divorcing.”
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. Divorce after thirty years wasn’t common. How did a couple decide they’d made a mistake after three decades?
He waved off my concern with a scowl. “The lawyers actually think I give a shit about what this could do to my trust. The divorce settlement, I mean. Dad might have to shift assets around, break the trust, restructure it.”
“They emailed to tell you that?”
He nodded, growling. “And I told them to get fucked if they think I give a shit about the money. I have more than enough.” He slammed himself back in his chair with a grunt. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a way for him to find out how comfortable I am. Like he expects me to scream and throw a fit like some spoiled trust fund baby. He won’t come right out and ask how much I’m making here, so he has to find another way.”
“I know there isn’t exactly a lot of love lost between you two, but do you really think he would go this far just to see how well you’ve done?”
“I don’t fucking know.” Pushing back from the desk, he threw his hands in the air. He looked and sounded hopeless, almost defeated. Only his father could do that to him.
I thought back on all the nights he had poured his heart out to me, especially when it came to getting ready to leave for Harvard. Any parent would have been elated to know their son was attending such a prestigious school that he had worked hard enough to earn a place there. All Thomas Anderson could do was make snarky comments about his son, thinking he was too good for the rest of the family now that he was going off to school. The man was a mystery, even more so than his son.
But he would never come straight out and admit how he felt or how much he resented Evan for being a success. “It’s not in our DNA, ” Evan used to tell me. “We don’t talk about things like your family does.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered. What did a person say to a full-grown adult whose parents were getting a divorce?
He ran a hand through his hair, the too-long waves flopping against his forehead as he heaved a sigh. “Thanks. It’s stupid of me to let him get to me like this. I know it. It’s just… there’s never any way to prepare for his bullshit. I always feel like I get caught with my pants down, you know?”
Weren’t we supposed to be discussing the wedding? I just couldn’t bring myself to ignore what he was going through. Comforting him again.
“Remember that time you came over to our apartment after you had that fight with him?” I asked, going warm at the memory. “I told you it would be okay because nobody was home?”
For the first time since I entered the office, he grinned. It took him no time to recall the night in question. “I remember your dad’s study,” he replied, his smile going wider while I blushed at the memory. “I couldn’t believe you wanted to do it right then and there on his desk.”
“If I remember correctly, he sort of pissed me off that day. I don’t remember what it was about,” I admitted. “But I remember thinking how funny it was.”
“It wouldn’t have been so funny if he’d caught us,” he pointed out, wincing.
“But he didn’t. If memory serves me correctly, it was pretty fucking hot.” Hot enough that my heart fluttered a little when I thought back.
I cleared my throat, breaking eye contact when I looked in my bag. We were not doing this today. We couldn’t keep going through the same chain of events every time we got together. My pussy would have to deal with going unattended today. “Anyway, we really do have to get to work.”
“Sure,” he agreed with a sarcastic snort. “Now that I have a hard-on.”
“You’re the one who brought up what we did that night,” I pointed out. “I was only remembering having you come over to hang out so you wouldn’t punch a hole in a wall or something.”
“You were the one who went down on me while I was sitting in your dad’s chair.” He lowered his brow along with his voice. “You taught me a lesson that night. The possibility of getting caught makes things so much hotter.”
Why did he have to keep going with this? And why was it so damn effective? He was a drug, demanding I turn my back on everything that mattered in favor of one more hit.
It was getting undeniably warmer in his office. “That was a long time ago,” I reminded him, fighting the urge to fan myself once my body went from warm to hot.
“Not so long,” he countered. I knew the look in his dark, soulful eyes. It did unspeakable things to me, made me squeeze my legs together in a pitiful attempt at satisfying my throbbing clit. Not today. Not again. No matter how good it will be or how much you think you need it. Shut this down, leave the building .
An idea started swirling in my overheated mind, shoving aside the voice of reason, screaming at me to walk out before I degraded myself yet again. To think, I used to criticize the hell out of him and the other guys for letting their dicks do the thinking for them.
I was no better than they were once I let my clit lead me deeper into what I knew would only end up hurting. “I’ll tell you what,” I suggested. “For every question you answer, I’ll give you a treat as a reward. ”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that so, Valentina? Well, I could definitely work with that.”
“I had a feeling you could.” He watched closely as I stood and crossed his office. “First, let me do what we couldn’t do in Dad’s study.” I flipped the lock on the door, and he laughed.
“Yeah, finding a locked door would’ve been a dead giveaway we were up to something,” he recalled, slouching now with his legs spread wide.
“Now.” One slow step at a time, I crossed the room, tingling at the way his gaze raked over my body. “Let’s begin. Did you confirm the delivery time on the cake?”
He offered a smirk that heated my blood. “Affirmative.”
“Good.” In response, I lifted the hem of my knee-length dress up to my hips, turning a full circle so he could admire my ass. He always did like it.
“That’s not enough,” he grunted out when I lowered the dress.
“Patience,” I murmured. This was already too much fun. His dick was hard, jutting straight out from his lap. I gave it a pointed look before meeting his gaze again. Desire flickered behind his eyes, momentarily distracting me from my line of questioning. “That’s not going anywhere.”
“You’re the devil.” He sighed, making me giggle.
“Next question. Are all the plans confirmed for the yacht rental on Friday afternoon?” We’d agreed on a fishing trip for the men, one of the suggestions given while brainstorming at my apartment.
“The yacht leaves at noon. Let’s see those tits,” he suggested, staring at my chest.
“Excuse me, but when did you get the idea you were calling the shots?” I shook my head and clicked my tongue. “No treat this time. You’ll learn. ”
“Jesus, Valentina…” He grabbed hold of his bulge. “See what you’re doing to me? Much more of this, and there’ll be a wet spot on the front of my pants.”
“Poor baby,” I replied with a pout, rounding the desk and straddling his lap. “Everything’s set for the fireworks finale at ten?”
“The sky will be bright as day.” His attention lingered on my legs, his tongue darting over his lips as he watched my hand trailing down to the inside of my thighs, my thumb rubbing against my wet seam. It was too easy to turn him into a slobbering fool.
“Good to know.” I stood again, quickly sliding out of my skimpy panties and dropping them into his lap. “And we’re all set with the tent and second dance floor on the lawn?”
“Yes, yes, everything’s settled.” He was too busy picking up my panties and holding them to his nose to say much else. My blood turned to lava once he inhaled my scent and growled like an animal. There was nothing like working him into a frenzy. Eighteen, twenty-eight, it didn’t matter. He was just as helpless now as he had ever been and much hotter. Dammit, I was meant to be calling the shots here, and yet I was as helpless as him.
“And your kitchen staff is aware of the few dietary restrictions?” I asked.
“Fuck, yes,” he whispered, lowering the panties to his lap again, using the delicate fabric to grind against. He stared at the apex of my thighs once I propped myself on the desk and began spreading them. His jaw tightened while a soft grunt stirred in his throat. For me. I did this to him.
“Good boy.” Leaning forward, I grabbed him by his tie and pulled him close, directing him to my waiting pussy while I propped my feet on the arms of his chair. God help me, I loved this too much. I always had. “Now, you get to eat dessert.”
The wicked grin that flashed over his face reminded me too much of the boy he used to be before he pushed my dress up and descended on me.