PIERCE : A Billionaire Romance Book Series (The Complete Van Doren Series) (5 page)

              The carafe of juice Pierce had taken out earlier is still on the counter, and Christina drinks directly from the container, enjoying the sweet refreshment despite it’s now room-temperature.  After quenching her thirst, she finds her shirt, and shrugs into it.  The lack of buttons prevents her fastening it closed, but at least she’s not entirely naked as she wanders Pierce’s house.

              “I should check my messages…” she says to herself, making her way over to her bag so she can retrieve her phone.  Once she finds it, she’s annoyed to see that the battery is dead.  Wanting to at least check in with Peter and let him know things are going okay. Okay is an understatement. She makes her way through the kitchen and back out into the foyer, where she finds her way to the library.  Given the monstrous size of the house, she is pretty proud that she can maneuver her way through at least this much of it without too much trouble.

              The TV is off, and the room is quiet.  On the desk is a closed laptop and a phone, and so Christina makes her way over.  Intending to call Peter, she lifts the receiver, only to realize she needs an access code to get an outside line.  She scans the desk for something to indicate what that might be, but doesn’t find anything of any help.  Sighing, she blows a wisp of hair out of her eyes and drops heavily into the desk chair.  The leather creaks with her presence, and she swivels back and forth, impatiently considering her options.

              The laptop in front of her is humming very softly, and when she reaches out and lifts the screen, the desktop screen illuminates.  “Huh,” she says idly, immediately reaching forward and tracing her fingertip over the touch pad. “No password?  Bad Pierce, no cookie.”  She grins, imagining saying that to him sometime.  What the fuck are you doing? Christina shrugs, shaking her head. “Nothing,” she answers herself aloud, sliding the mouse pointer over to the Chrome icon, intending to remote into her work desktop and check her email.

              When she double-clicks on the icon, the web browser launches, opening to Pierce’s home page.  Splashed across the center of the screen in big blue letters is the Van Doren Enterprises logo, as well as fields for username and password.  Inside both fields are several asterisks.

              “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” she says, laughing a bit nervously to herself. “No way.”  Christina knows she should close the window and leave.  She knows this is an invasion of Pierce’s privacy.  She knows she should not be in here at all, much less snooping in his private business.  Still – she can’t help herself.  Her reporter brain takes over, and she watches her hand move to click ‘Log In’.

              The logo fades away, and a User Menu comes up.  To the left is the usual selection of business-related icons – email, notes, calendar, and schedule.  Christina opens up the calendar and scans it, clicks through the daily schedule and sees nothing of interest.  Pierce doesn’t appear to make any notes on his work account. 

              Christina’s hand hovers above the touch pad.  She knows she should not open his email.  She knows it is confidential information.  She knows she is violating his trust and her own ethics by doing this – but there it is, opened.  She curses her own hand and its betrayal, mumbling to herself. “Fucking…”

              The first few messages appear to be company-wide memos, all unread and dated for yesterday and today.  Beneath those are some read messages – also apparently company-wide and of little to no interest to her.  She’s just about to close the window and forget this ever happened when she sees a message from “William Van D” dated three days ago.

              “No…” she breathes, her heart catching in her chest and her eyes narrowing as she slides the arrow over to highlight that message and open it up.  A long, multi-message exchange is revealed to her between Pierce and none other than William Van Doren, the supposedly missing-in-action, thieving C.E.O. of Van Doren Enterprises. 

              Christina leans forward in the chair, scrolling down through the messages and rapidly scanning them.  She catches bits and pieces:  “…haven’t heard back from O’Reilly.  Don’t know if we’ve completed the exchange.” and “…can’t schedule the shipment until the end of the month, too much heat on the rail yard right now.” Her stomach drops, the betrayal setting in. This whole time? He’s been conspiring with his father?  

              She’s still skimming when she hears a distant clatter.  Lifting her head, she quickly exits the web browser and closes the laptop.  Getting up from behind the desk, Christina hurries towards the doorway, only to run head-on into Pierce, who has thrown on a tee shirt and a pair of boxers.  He grins at her, reaching out and taking hold of her waist, sliding his hands underneath her shirt and beginning to tug her in against him. “There you are,” he starts, his tone low and still sleepy.

              Christina tears herself free of his grasp, startling him and throwing him off-balance as she darts out of the library and breaks into a run towards the kitchen.  She’s gathering up her clothes, her eyes wet with angry tears, when Pierce hurries in behind her and takes hold of her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern distorting his handsome features into a mask of near-fear. “What’s the matter, Christina?”

              She does not respond, but instead yanks free of him once again and runs towards the back door.  It’s only once she’s outside that she realizes he drove her here… she’s still mostly naked, and she has no phone.  “FUCK!” she shouts, turning around only to slam directly into Pierce again, who has rushed out behind her.  He is nearly frantic, trying to calm her down. 

              “Just call me a cab.”  Christina’s cool tone scares even her.

              Pierce tries to speak, but she spins and storms into the house, where she heads back upstairs and into the bedroom.  Tears in her eyes, she slams and locks the door. What a fool.  Pierce is already on the other side, trying to reason with her.

              “What’s the matter, Christina?” he pleads, his face directly up against the heavy wooden door.  She does not respond, but instead gets into her clothes as best she can.  Her blouse is ruined, but she tucks it in and makes the best of it.  Gathering her hair up into a ponytail, she ties the blonde locks into a loose knot, then opens the door and glares at Pierce with all the malice and disappointment she can muster.

              “It’s simple. I never want to talk to you again.  I never want to have anything to do with you, or this fucking town…” She shoves past him, stomping downstairs. “Or this goddamn fucking job again.” 

              Pierce follows her, but instead of calling a cab, he simply scoops up his pants from the floor and takes out his keys.  Holding the Maserati key out towards her, he speaks in a low, defeated tone, “Just take my car.”  Without waiting for further instructions Christina takes the keys and brushes past him, leaving him standing in the kitchen alone.

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              The offices of Eastern View Magazine feel different when Pierce steps off the elevator a few days later.   After a few long nights dreaming of creamy thighs and golden curls, he finally decided to simply come and find her.  According to the receptionist, she no longer works there, but he finds that hard to believe.   Who would just quit a promising career?  Who would simply leave town on the spur of the moment?  He realizes as he steps in past the front desk and heads towards Christina's office that he really knows very little about her.  Maybe she is the type of person who would make snap decisions.

              Maybe that's why he likes her so much.

              After Christina's dramatic departure, he realized what had happened.  Upon opening his laptop that evening, he found it logged in to his email, and immediately put two and two together.  She'd found his messages with his father.  Determined to make things right and explain himself to her, he set out to track her down. Now, as he opens her office door, he takes a deep breath and prepares to speak his peace before she has a chance to interrupt him.

              The office is bare.  Gone are all her personal items.  Her computer monitor is gone, with only a couple of cables laying on the surface of the desk.  The blinds are closed.  He sighs, turning to leave.  Peter stands on the other side of the doorway.

              “She went home.” He says this with a scowl, obviously blaming Pierce for her sudden departure.  “Didn't finish her story, didn't give me her notes.  She didn't even tell me what happened, but judging by the way she ran out of here the day after she spent with you – I'm guessing things didn't go well.”

              Pierce sighs, shaking his head and stepping out into the hallway so he can speak directly to his acquaintance.  “Home?” he asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.  “Where's home?”

              Peter laughs.  “New York City.”  His laugh is wry, and a bit sarcastic.  “Good luck, man.”  Clapping Pierce on the shoulder, he turns and walks away.  Pierce watches him leave, then heads back towards the elevator.

              Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall, he steels himself as he pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes the speed dial.  If she wants to go home, she can.  But he’ll be damned if this will be the end of it….

Pierce

A Van Doren Series,
Book 2

Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved.

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              The logs in the fireplace have given up their intermittent hissing and cracking, the embers gradually abandoning their quest for heat and dying to a faint red glow.  Only ashes and smoke remain of the blaze that so recently kissed their naked skin. Christina breathes deeply, letting the scents of cedar, smoke, and sweat fill her lungs.  She gasps, her back arching and hands roaming the smooth, taut skin that wraps his muscled back.  Her nails draw tiny invisible lines in the perspiration that slicks his shoulder blades.  His hips move with a slow, purposeful rhythm – undulating and writhing between her spread legs, her right foot flat on the floor and her left heel dug firmly into the supple muscle of Pierce’s ass.  

              Her body yearns towards his, her hips reaching up with his every withdrawal, her ass flexing and body heaving.  She tries to hold him tight, hold him fast – but he moves away with powerful insistence, only to once again fill her needy sex and grind himself down as if seeking to merge into one being, one body.  Christina is light-headed, her eyes rolled up in their sockets, her throat exposed to Pierce’s kisses, his teeth – the graze of his incisors along her pulse and the threat of a bite that is only ever faintly delivered. She wants his teeth in her, she wants his hands rough on her body – but he teases with those airy, breathless kisses.  He grazes his fingertips across her hips, delivers tender feather-kisses to her chest, and suckles delicately at her breast. 

              “Fuck me!” she tries to cry out, but all she manages is a gasping moan.  He’s stolen her breath, laid claim to her words.  She claws at his back, feeling his skin split and feeling the hot rush of blood beneath her nails… but the pain only makes him slow down.  It only makes him murmur softly and press gentle affection against her chin and jaw.  Christina draws eight vivid, bloody lines along his flexing back, and then smears her palms across the wounds.  She hopes to make him sting, make him hurt – make him do something.  She wants him to hurt her back.

              He continues to be gentle, maddeningly so.  His breathing is even and slow, his heartbeat is pounding in her ears, steady and regular despite his physical exertion. It’s so loud it throbs inside her head with its insistent, uncooperative calm.  Christina bucks her hips up to greet him, beginning to thrash and fight like a wild animal.  Pierce pauses entirely, pushing up so he’s braced on his arms.  Gazing down at her, he smiles that infuriatingly subtle, devastatingly handsome grin. 

              “Christina,” he says softly.  “Christina.” 

              She blinks up at him, her hands pulling away from his body.  Her hands are clean.  Confused by the lack of blood, she momentarily forgets the fact that she’s stuffed full of Pierce’s cock and nearly mad for his bite.  She goes limp, gazing up at him like a stunned deer, body quivering and anxious and on the very brink of orgasm… but unable to cross over into that gorgeous abyss.

              “Christina!” Pierce suddenly shouts, his face contorting and then disappearing altogether in a burst of yellowish light.

              The silhouette of another person hovers in that corona of light, and Christina blinks a few times, her arms moving to yank the blankets up past her chest and underneath her chin.   Confusion is evident on her face as she emerges from her dream, and when she recognizes the person near her bed, a wave of mixed relief and frustration overwhelms her. Ella.  Fucking Ella what is she doing in here?

              “Your fucking alarm has been going off for the past fifteen minutes, jerk…” her sister grumps, already moving away from the bed and heading for the door. “You’re worse than my goddamn roommate.” 

              Christina sits up and watches her younger sister disappear into the hall, flinching slightly as the eighteen year old slams the door in her wake. “Ungrateful little shit…” Christina murmurs, shaking off her dream and taking a moment to get re-oriented.  “Should send her ass back to school early.” 

              Ella has come to stay with her father and older sister over spring break, and while Christina is happy to have the younger girl’s company, she’s also remembering just why she prefers to live alone.  A half-smile crosses her lips as she recalls her own early college years, though – and she sighs a bit before kicking the blankets off and stumbling towards the open bathroom door. Still somewhat disoriented by her dream, she takes a deep breath and reflects a little bit, enjoying the little tingle of lingering anticipation in her panties.

              Fucking Pierce, get out of my head, you asshole.  Lying piece of shit gorgeous piece of man… ugh! She starts the cold water in the sink, and then liberally splashes her face a few times, forcing the imagery from her dream out of her head before turning to start the shower.  Don’t think about him, Christina… he’s no good.  You’re far away from him.  You have a new life ahead of you.  Get clean, get out there, and get a job, because money’s running out!

              Stripping out of her tee shirt and panties, Christina steps into the now-hot shower and lets out a sigh as the hot water drums down on her head.  She has an interview in an hour and a half, and she intends to nail it.  Money is indeed running out, and she needs to get her feet on the ground and get things underway in her new life back at her old hunting grounds. 

              Turning around in the shower once her hair is wet, Christina detaches the showerhead and brings it down her body until it is pressed against her naked pussy. A sudden jolt of pleasure wracks her, and she presses her hand against the slippery tile to support her weakened, sleepy knees. Might as well… mmm… get rid of tension before the interview.

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              The lobby of Edmonds and Clark Publishing is nondescript, but comfortable.  Christina finds herself seated comfortably on a sofa, an array of magazines spread in front of her on a coffee table, and she can’t help but remember the last time she sat on a couch, waiting for an interview.  Pierce’s house.  She fidgets a little, uncrossing and recrossing her legs as she tries in vain to suppress the memories.  The last thing she needs to be thinking about before a job interview is Pierce!  Still, the images of his smile, the way his dark skin contrasts with her fair complexion – his hand on her breast, his mouth on her lips… the tingle she feels in her mouth after being kissed by him…

              “Are you ready?”  Christina starts at the question, snapping out of her reverie and looking up towards the pretty blonde receptionist.  Gathering her bag close to her chest, she smiles tightly and nods, then gets to her feet.

              “Yes,” Christina says, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.  “I’m ready.”  The receptionist leads her back into a conference room, where the owners of the publishing house are already waiting.  They get to their feet as she enters, and a handsome man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bright smile approaches, shaking her hand.  His hand is cool, and Christina is immediately set at ease. 

              “I’m Robert Clark, and this is my associate, John Edmonds.  We’ve heard great things, Christina.  Peter had only complimentary things to say.  We’re really happy you were willing to come talk to us.  Here… have a seat.”  He pulls a seat out for her, and Christina drops into it, relieved to have something constructive to focus on, ready to start a new chapter in her life. 

              “So,” Robert starts, taking a seat across from her and settling comfortably into his chair.  “Tell us about yourself.  Tell us what you want from a job here, and we’ll tell you if we’re prepared to give it to you.” 

              Christina smiles.  The interview begins.

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              Five stories down, a black Lincoln SUV pulls smoothly to the curb.  No one steps out, but the vehicle waits, idling.  Pierce Van Doren leans up from his seat in the back and puts a hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Let me know when she comes out,” he says, pulling out his phone and settling back into his seat again after selecting a contact and pressing “Call”.  The driver nods, keeping his eyes on the glass doors of the office building after putting earbuds in and turning his iPhone up so he can’t hear what his boss is talking about in the back seat. 

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              “I’m really looking forward to working here!”  Christina is practically bubbly as she shakes Robert and John’s hands, and her cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much.  The interview went amazingly, and she is ready to start work the following Monday.  Not only will she be editing, but they have some writing they want to talk to her about, as well.  All in all, she’s ecstatic. 

As she heads out, she waves towards the receptionist, who gives her a friendly thumbs-up. “See you Monday!” she says, waving back as Christina slips through the door and out into the hallway.  As she pulls the door shut behind herself, she leans back against it for a second. Her heart pounding with excited happiness at her good fortune.  She practically runs to the elevator, and when the doors open, she bursts out and into the lobby.

              “I got it!” she announces to the valet.  The young man smiles, clearly confused but happy for this ebullient stranger.  Another woman standing nearby smiles at Christina as she passes, and when the front door opens up onto the morning once again, the city seems less dingy, less oppressive, and far more promising than it did just an hour or so before.  Christina takes a deep breath and looks up towards the smoggy morning sky, then lets out a happy exhale. Things are going to improve.  She can taste it.  Instead of immediately hailing a cab, she decides to find a coffee shop and explore the immediate vicinity.  She’s going to be spending a good amount of time around here, now – she might as well acquaint herself with possible lunch and coffee spots.  Turning right, Christina pulls out her phone and brings up her app that will search for local eateries.

              She’s thumbing through the shops that come up when she feels a shadow fall over her left side.  Stepping to the right, she makes room for the person to pass her.  The sidewalks aren’t really all that crowded here, but she is still in the path, so she moves to stand nearer to the building.  The person who moved into her bubble moves with her. Christina looks up, her brow creasing with irritation.

              Pierce swoops in as she looks up, his mouth colliding with hers with warm, brief pressure.  He does not let the kiss linger, but immediately takes a few steps backwards, as if anticipating a slap.  Christina doesn’t do anything, at first – she just blinks at him, her mouth slightly agape as she tries to come to terms with the fact that this man is here, in this city, on this sidewalk, at her new place of employment, right… fucking… now.   Holding her phone in both hands, she looks up at him, stunned.

              “Guess I’m the last person you expected to see, hmmm?” Pierce asks, breaking the silence with his usual irritating confidence. “You’re tough to find.”

              Christina chews at the inside of her cheek, her expression going from dumbfounded surprise to anger with a few twitches of muscles and the dawning realization that this fucker tracked her down and stalked her all the way across the country. Infuriated, she tightens her grip on her phone so much that she can feel it creaking in her palm.  Finally meeting Pierce’s dark gaze with her own, she shakes her head and blurts out, “Intentionally so, ya think?  Maybe?  Why are you here?”  She’s already shoving her phone into her purse and turning to stomp away before Pierce can respond.

              Taking a deep breath, Pierce moves to follow her.  She looks pretty adorable, all puffed up and angry, but he knows better than to play charming when she’s feeling so vulnerable.  So, he simply falls in step behind her, keeping a couple of feet of distance but staying close enough that she can hear him speak.

              “Christina,” he says calmly, fighting to keep his hands at his sides when they so desperately want to reach out and snatch her close to him.  She quickens her pace, keeping her attention focused forwards and away from him.  “Christina, please…” he says imploringly.  “Just stop and talk to me.  Give me that courtesy.  Please?”

              Christina stops, whirling around so fast that her hair whips around and smacks her in the face.  A few strands stick in her still-fresh lip-gloss, and she spits them away impatiently before batting them out of her face with her empty hand.  Cocking her head, she smiles sarcastically at Pierce.  “Oh?  You want me to give you courtesy?”  He can see her jaw bulging as she clenches her teeth, and a tiny vein protrudes in her temple.  He wants to kiss it.

              “Yes,” he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. “I do. I know you don’t think I deserve it, but please, I came all this way because you need to know what’s going on.  It’s not what you think.”  He takes a couple of slow steps closer, narrowing the gap between him and the woman he’s pretty sure he’s starting to care deeply for.  “You need to understand.  If you still don’t want to talk to me afterwards, then I’ll go and never contact you again.”

              Christina chews her lower lip, eyes gazing up at him from beneath her lashes.  She is still tense, but she weakens slightly as he speaks.  He can tell she’s breaking down a tiny bit, but doesn’t push things.  He tries his best to be patient, even though every cell in his body is telling him to scoop her up and carry her to his SUV so he can kiss her all over.  Finally, she responds.