by Adair Rymer
“What is that,” Anthony gestured flippantly, at my stack of folders. “Bring that here!”
I refused. He would see the contents soon enough.
Having just finished handing out folders to this half of the room, I turned my back to him and started making my way over to the other side. Anthony sprang forward and reached for me while I wasn't paying attention. He was too close and the heels I was wearing weren’t designed for dexterous escapes. There was no way for me to get out of the way in time.
Maynard anticipated that and snatched Anthony's hand out of the air. He had been walking near me the whole time just in case something like this happened.
“You shouldn't touch her. God knows where those hands have been.” Maynard threatened, knowingly. Once I was done handing the folders out, everyone in the room would know exactly what their CEO had been up to this past year.
“You here to beat me up again?” Anthony ripped his hand away from Maynard, then spread his arms in an attempt to goad Maynard into attacking him again. “You like prison that much?”
“It was transformative.” Maynard stepped between Anthony and me, protecting me as I walked away, then he wisely stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You'll see.”
“My brother and I, in full compliance with both state and federal law, in addition to Milspoor International's own by-laws, hereby call a vote of no confidence against our current CEO Anthony Milspoor.”
“On what grounds, bitch!” Anthony stepped to the side and jerked the manila folder from the hands of someone sitting nearby. Pages of cataloged evidence spilled across the floor. They detailed his plans of gentrification in Chicago, and linked him directly to the fires that destroyed low income housing, in addition to small businesses like my father's. There were also names and irrefutable proof that he commissioned the assassinations of others who wouldn't sell or play along.
“You want us to start with attempted murder, or should we end with that? Bribery, blackmail, coercion—It's a long list,” I snapped back at him. Because of him I'd been labeled a whore and constantly harassed for months, but for that I was content to just watch him be brought down. I wasn't going to say anything, but after all the pain and anguish he'd caused my parents, especially my mother, I couldn't help myself from speaking up.
The atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically to one of disgust as people read the evidence for themselves. Of all the time I spent researching and putting together documents in college, this was by far my finest achievement yet.
“Wait, wait, hold on a second.” Anthony scooped up the papers, looking frazzled. “There has to be something we can do here, right?” He looked around the room trying to find people to appeal to. Each person averted their eyes under his desperate glare. “I—I have a lot of money. I can make everyone in this room insanely rich! We can make a deal.”
The intercom began buzzing softly by the head of the desk. When it went unanswered shareholders' cell phones began to ring. The front desk was probably trying to reach anyone they could. The tone in the room shifted again, this time to personal concern. The word liability was being thrown around an awful lot.
Anthony's vast wealth wasn't even worth a second look anymore. Everyone knew Anthony was a sinking ship and they didn't want to be on it when he went down for good.
“Adam, we're leaving,” Anthony called out to the elderly man as he loosened his tie. The thought of prison closing in around him must've made him feel claustrophobic.
“No. It wasn't supposed to be like this.” Adam hesitated, as he reviewed the detailed folder of evidence. His leathery face had gone ashen white. He addressed Bianca. “After Claire's video appeared on the internet I agreed to help Anthony buy Cooper Corp, but I-I didn't know any of this.” Adam shook the folder indignantly. “I swear it, Bianca. I didn't know!”
“You might escape prison, Adam, but you haven't escaped me.” Bianca's threat sent a shiver up my spine.
Adam Boniello was the kind of man whose whole identity was attached to his position, and his only ambition was to keep progressing. He had finally risen to the ranks of vice president under Anthony, and now Bianca had made it her goal to strip that, and everything else, away from him.
Once Bianca decided on something, there was no force on earth that could change it.
“Give it up, Anthony.” Maynard smiled. “From the sound of things, the cops are already on their way up. I had my chauffeur drop off a copy of this paperwork to the police station after we arrived here.” Maynard leaned in close to his ex-friend and lowered his voice so only a few of us could hear. “Those convicts are going to eat you alive. You're going to need to get into a fight right away when you hit gen pop. Otherwise, a pretty boy like you is going to get his shit pushed in.”
“Mr. Milspoor, sir?” The frail voice of the brunette receptionist filtered in through the chaos. Her head poked into the cracked meeting room doors right beside me. I was startled at her sudden appearance. No one else paid her any mind until she mentioned that the police were in the building and on their way up to speak with Anthony.
“I believe this is the end for you, Mr. Milspoor.” Bianca stated with ice cold professionalism. “I hope you enjoy your lengthy stay in prison.”
“Fine. To hell with all of you!” Anthony's face twisted with rage. He shoved past several shareholders and yelled at the receptionist who was waiting patiently for more orders. “Samantha have the pilot start the helicopter.”
Anthony slipped past Maynard and barreled toward the doors. I was standing at the back of the room, and was the only obstacle between Anthony and his escape. I never liked physical confrontation, it always frightened me, but then I thought of what that son-of-a-bitch did to my Mom and to Maynard.
I would never forgive myself if I stepped out of Anthony's way.
Anthony was running through so many plans in his head that he didn't even see me until he was practically on top of me. There was shouting but even at a full run, Maynard was too far away to help me this time. Anthony reached for me. I didn't know if it was to strike me, shove me out of the way or take me as a hostage.
But I wasn't going to stand there and let him decide my fate. I was going to make my son proud.
I took one big step toward the charging lunatic and kicked as hard as I could. Even with heels on it was a solid hit. Anthony screamed so loudly that you'd think I kicked his balls up into his throat. His momentum carried him right past me and into the one closed meeting room door. The force of the blow against the door spiderwebbed the glass, and instantly knocked Anthony unconscious.
Maynard swept me up into a big hug and scolded me for risking myself like that. Behind the concern there was also an intense pride in his blue eyes. Maynard was impressed. “I didn't know you had that in you. Mark and I better stay on your good side.” He smiled warmly.
“Damn right.” I tried acting tough, but my adrenaline started to subside, and pain shot up the top of my foot from the kick. I groaned, slipping out of my heel and rubbing my foot. “Ow ow ow. I think my soccer career is over.”
Maynard's smile deepened at the joke. “How 'bout I give you a massage later?” Then he whispered in my ear with the smoothness of warm silk, “a full body massage.”
“Yes, please,” I whispered back. His sexy promise riddled me with crackling excitement. It had been far too long since he'd been able to really touch me.
Several minutes later the elevator doors opened and police flooded into this floor's foyer. They took everyone's statement, then carried Anthony Milspoor into custody. That would be the last time I ever saw that human piece of trash in-person. It was going to be a lengthy trial, but both Maynard and Bianca were going to aggressively pursue it. There would be no slap on the wrist for Anthony, he would spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Chapter 20
Maynard
“You think I'll get in trouble for that? Kicking Anthony in the balls?” Claire asked me about an hour after the police and all the shareholders had l
eft. We had gone up one floor to Anthony's private office. It was much more welcoming knowing that he would never be here again.
“I think he has bigger concerns right now.” I said, distantly. Flashes of the loneliness and hardships that I suffered in Rikers Island were never too far from my mind.
“What happens now?” She touched my arm, dragging my mind back to the present. Claire was great at getting me out of my head, and I knew that soon all the terrible shit that happened this past year would be a distant memory.
“Anthony is beyond fucked, even his crooked judge won't be able to help him this time. In a few weeks Bianca will be elected as president. They'll change the name of the now multinational conglomerate from Milspoor to Cooper to distance themselves from Anthony's now toxic last name. Probably with some new designation like Industries, Limited or something.”
“What about the Marcus Edward Foundation?” she asked.
Bianca had been the one to suggest that company be named after our son. She dismissed the idea of naming yet another organization after our family as being unnecessarily vain. She said that the world already knew who we were and that it was time for someone else's name to bring hope to people. It was such a beautiful sentiment.
I loved the idea that our son could positively affect so many people someday.
“Anthony never got the chance to dismantle the progress I made on it, so that goes forward as planned. Actually, that was something that Bianca wants to talk with you about.” I held the downstairs door of Anthony's office open for her. She saw the big news look I had on my face and it made her a little nervous. “She wants you to run that organization.”
“What? I don't know that I'm ready for something like that! You started that company you should run it.” She followed me up the ornate stairs to Anthony's office proper.
“If there's one thing I’ve learned in my time as CEO it's that I'm not fit for corporate life.” I looked around at the walls of tempered glass, his polished hardwood desk, safe and filing cabinet. I didn't want any of it, not just the office or the building. I didn't like the business world. I wanted something simpler and more rewarding.
“Besides, it seems like you really impressed her when you two worked together to bring Anthony down.” I rifled absently through Anthony's liquor selection. I double checked that all the ingredients I'd need were actually here, then glanced back at Claire with a smirk reminiscent of one I'd given her at my holiday party almost a year ago.
“I still don't know. I just graduated college and don't have any real experience. I'm grossly unqualified...”
“You make it sound as if you didn't just help to dismantle a criminal network, crush a corrupt empire and save thousands of jobs in the process.” My hands were a blur of pouring, mixing and stirring. “Don't think that she's just giving this to you. Bianca is not like that at all. She went through several rounds of applicants. She thinks you have the spirit and the experience that this position needs.”
Claire stayed quiet as she thought it over. She would never accept a sweetheart deal this big just because she happened to be dating me. That's why I didn't even bother bringing it up to Bianca, but, then again, I didn't have to. Bianca was the one to propose the idea to me. She wanted me to gauge Claire's interest before putting together a hiring package for her.
“She's hired a small army of consultants and assistants, all of them have experience with this kind of work. You'll be fine. That is if you want the position, of course.” I was trying not to put extra pressure on her.
I could see in her eyes that she wanted it. She just needed to convince herself that she actually could do it. She walked around the desk and dragged a hand over the headrest of the lush leather chair.
“There's no rush.” I handed her the drink I'd made. “Just think it over.”
“Is that a sex on the beach?” She smiled, letting her anxiety at the important decision slip into the back of her mind.
“It is. Or would you prefer a bottle of vodka and a glass?” I teased.
“No,” she snapped back. “I had a lot on my mind then.”
“You don't now?”
“This time it's different.” She shrugged shyly. “All of my skeletons are out of the closet and you haven't been scared off. I don't feel alone anymore.”
“You'll never have to feel alone ever again.” I extended my glass and she clinked it. After our first sips I set my glass down and stepped behind her. She wore this stunning violet dress. I couldn't wait to see what it looked like in a ball on the floor. I tucked her golden hair off her shoulder and whispered, “If I put up a pole will you give me a show?”
“I have been practicing my splits lately.” She cocked an eyebrow and the corner of her mouth creased in a slight smirk. The thought of her wrapped around my cock made the bulge in my pants triple in size.
I stepped past her, and in one sweeping motion I cleared the massive desk of most of Anthony's bullshit awards and paid-for accommodations.
“Whoa! Sex in your office is one thing, but in someone else's office?” Claire glanced behind her, down the stairs. “What if someone comes in?”
“Fuck 'em.” I lifted her off the carpeted floor with ease. I still couldn't believe how fucking good she looked. Claire had been working out hardcore, and was already down thirty pounds since delivering our son. It took an incredible amount of effort to not touch her and let her heal, especially since getting out of prison. I was horny enough to crack marble with my cock. I had never gone this long, and jerking off nine times a day only helped so much; I needed to fuck her. “Let them watch and get jealous.”
I laid her back on the dark desk, it complemented her light skin and made her sexy, curvy form really pop in contrast. She went to sit up, but I placed a heavy palm on her chest and pushed her back down.
Oh really? was the look she gave me. I could read Claire better than she wanted me to.
You're goddamned right, my eyes shot back. There wasn't any fear or worry on her face just camouflaged excitement. That spurred me on further.
I could've asked if she was ready for this, but her face, body and demeanor told me what I wanted to know. She couldn't hide how badly she wanted me and I couldn't hide getting drunk off that feeling. She trusted that I would go slowly and I trusted that she would tell me if anything was too uncomfortable.
When I pressed up against her I could tell that she didn't know if she could handle my massive cock but she desperately needed to find out.
My thoughts all muddled uselessly together as I hiked up her dress and pulled her panties down to her knees. I loved eating her out, it was one of the things I fantasized about the most. “I missed the way you taste.”
“I don't know,” Claire hesitated, biting her lip. “Everything might not be the same...”
“I love each and every part of you.” I walked my fingers up her thighs. “Do you trust me?”
“More than any sane woman should.” Despite her self-consciousness, her pussy flared with heat and shined with wetness in anticipation. She was both nervous and excited.
“Sanity is overrated.” I kissed up her thighs and dipped my face into her honey pot.
She creamed the second she felt my lips on her inner thigh, working my way along her slit. Her muscles flexed defensively against my tongue, but when my whole mouth laid into her Claire moaned in utter bliss. She wanted this just as much as I did.
Her legs twitched as I made her pussy dance to my tongue's rhythm. A shock ran up her body when she felt my teeth tug at her clit. She shrieked in surprise.
“I'm ok! I'm ok!” She cried. I paused for a fleeting moment just to make sure she was alright. “If you stop I'll kill you!”
“Yes, ma'am,” I moaned into her, switching to sucking her clit, and exploring her hidden folds with my tongue. I studied her face as I reached into my pants and palmed my own cock.
Claire closed her eyes and rode the waves of lust. Finally her muscles contracted all around my head and she came hard.
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I didn't stop.
“Holy shit,” Claire whispered. Her eyes snapped open. She was close again, and I had no intention of slowing. She grabbed a tuft of my hair and, instead of pulling me away, she pushed me in tighter. I loved it. She crushed forward into my palm, which still pinned her down on the table. “Oh, god. I'm coming again. Fuck!”
“I'll stop when you scream it.” I knew she felt every word through her sensitive lower lips; she was soaked. I didn't slow, I just drank her in and kept going.
“I'm coming! I'm coming!” The crushing waves of pleasure cracked her voice. The scream started all the way down in her heels and reverberated through her whole body. If anyone was on this floor they'd think someone was just murdered.
She was panting when I pulled away. I could feel her heart racing through the palm I had planted on her chest.
She watched, recovering, as I lifted off my suit jacket and shirt. I'd only turned a few of the lights on when we came in, so I got to lose myself in the soft glow that blanketed her body. I undid my belt and popped the clasp on my pants. A quick series of movements later and everything I wore was lying on the floor.
“Did you get bigger?” Her eyes flashed. She didn't see my cock at first, not until I fished a condom out of the desk drawer. I had stopped carrying one around after Claire left me that Dear John letter, but fortunately Anthony had a stack of them in his desk, because of course he would. “I know it's been a while, but do I need to sign a waiver to ride that?”
“Maybe a permission slip.” I slapped my cock down on her pussy. Her limp hanging legs immediately tightened at the pressure of my thick member. I unrolled the condom down the length of my stone hard cock. “Or a doctor's note.”
“Can I get a prescription?” She brushed her hair out of her face to better get a look at me. Claire smiled evilly. “Something refillable.”
She sent a hungry shiver through me. The thought of taking her made my every nerve ending vibrate with anticipation, excitement and yearning. Her eyes smiled, knowing she had that power over me. She was right; I only wanted Claire and no one else.