Page 61 of Contention

“Perfect. I’ll see you later, friend.” Gale strolls by in a wave of lavender and rose, heading towards the other end of the office, heels echoing off the walls.

With Gale gone, Kara heads in the other direction, to where Gale had mentioned Calais’s office was located. The office reminds her of a museum of sorts, upscale with artwork, statues, and even small fountains. Ritzy.

On the far wall, Kara sees a row of dark wood doors; her destination of doom.

There are no office windows to see what’s inside, but all the partner offices have their names emblazoned in gold on their respective doors. Large, bold lettering. Kara stands in front of the one that says Havenwood-Calais across its face.

A lovely name for an awful man. She feels herself weaken, heart racing. Her breathing nearly speeds up, anxiety about seeing him again nearly making her sick on the floor.

Just get it over with. Drop it off and leave.

She knocks on the dark wood door, opening it with a deep breath upon hearing a familiar voice say, “Enter.”

Steeling herself, Kara steps inside and catches sight of the very man who has been haunting her thoughts incessantly for nights on end. He sits just behind a great mahogany desk, the windows overlooking the city and the magnificent stretch of high-end consumerism behind him. A lovely view.

The outdoors, not him.

If Calais is surprised to see her standing in his doorway, he makes no sign of it. His sharp gaze takes in the folders in her hand before darting back to her face, his piercing blue eyes unreadable. Somehow, he’s able to look down at her, even though he’s sitting and she’s not.

Must be the flats that Kara’s wearing. She’s not tall and imposing in any reality, but especially without heels. She closes the door behind her carefully.

He’s not saying anything, just leaning back in his big office chair, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, hands relaxed, with his brightly colored oxford socks peeking through the gap between slack hem and shoe top. Waiting, like a snake watching events unfold carefully. He’s not making this easy for her, his jawline tight. What must he think of her, showing up like this? Kara nearly flushes at the thought, wondering with horror if he’s thinking of her as a complete desperate skank, showing up at his office.

She’s been in his limo,twice. His car, once. And now, his penthouse. Her record with him cannot be any worse. Hell, he must think she’s a stalker.

Pursing her lips, Kara slowly walks over to his desk, conscious of every step she takes. At least with the flats there is literally no chance of her falling on her face in front of him. She feels like a naughty school girl approaching the headmaster of a fancy private school.

Oh, do you want the headmaster to spank you while you’re here? Maybe he can finger fuck you while he’s at it and scold you while you cum.

Schooling her features, Kara hopes none of her thoughts show in her eyes. “These are for you to look over,” Kara says stiffly, barely able to look him in the eye, ashamed of herself. “Our fax machine and scanner are broke. So…here you are.”

Ashamed because she wants him, because she let herself be used by him, but mostly because she enjoyed how he made her feel, bent over his table.

With averted eyes, Kara places the folders down on his desk before stepping away, feeling her heart racing. She needs out. She needs to be gone. Calais flips open the first folder with a hint of attitude, his eyes still staring holes into her face as he does so. Then, his pale blues glance downward and he snidely rasps, “This isn’t even for me. Jackson-”

“Oh, for the love of-” Of course. Hissing, Kara wrestles that folder from him and points to the one below it. “You looked at the wrong one, you facetious troll.”

Rolling his eyes, Calais looks into the other folder, eyes flickering over the words on the pages. He makes a little noise, as if acknowledging that he’s now looking at the appropriate documents. As he continues flipping through a few pages, Kara makes to grab the folder for Jackson and walk away, but Calais’s heavy hand slams on top of it. “That stays with me. I’ll give it to him.”

Kara can’t help but stare at his hand, at his fingers. They’re nice, not ratty or bitten. The skin is pristine around the nail beds. The pads of his fingers are broad and Kara can feel a phantom sensation of him pressing those fingers inside her.

She inhales sharply and steps away from him. Not trusting herself to speak, she nods her acknowledgment and makes to leave, because she can’t breathe.

He’s looking at the stiff lines of tension in her frame, yet he still appears distant and unamused. “Is that all? I’m almost disappointed in you.”

Kara twists on her feet, glowering. “What else did you expect? Perhaps I should just lie on your desk and make it easy for you? Yeah?”

The air gets thick, like the feeling and taste of ozone before a storm, rife with lightning and thunder. Calais looks at her like he can see past the flesh her tattered soul resides in. “You wear sacrifice and self-loathing like it makes you a martyr,” he utters, eyes aloof and cool. A surprisingly wintery landscape. An unkind flash of teeth. “Does it excite you to wallow in the after effects of your extremely dubious actions and behaviors?”

How dare he try and pick her apart? As if Kara doesn’t already know how wrecked and sick she is on the inside. Red crawls up her face. “Fuck. You.”

“I dare say you would have,” he quips sharply and Kara gasps at him in outrage, dark eyes going wide. Calais ignores her, “But don’t stand there and pretend you want it to beeasyanddon’tpretend you’re a blameless saint. Don’t insult my intelligence; it’s offensive.”

That flowery language of his, the derision in his tone. The room feels like it’s shrinking down, becoming a cage. “Why don’t you just say what you mean? What youreallymean. Not your stupid pussyfooting.” Kara feels her teeth grinding, her anger beginning to boil to the surface of the ocean inside of her.

The smile on his lips is unpleasant and cruel as he tilts his head. He seems pleased with himself, like he’s just dying to push a knife into someone, anyone, and Kara just happens to be in the line of sight at this very hour of the day. “Have it your way. Deny it all you want; you enjoyed what I did to you. You didn’t press your lips to mine looking for flowery words and disgustingly false emotions; you wanted me toviolateyou. You get off on a firm hand the same way that I get off on force and power. Aggression gets you off. We are the same animal and wear the same mask.”

The world stops.

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