INVESTED (Dunning Trilogy Book 1)
Page 18
William's face was turning shades of pink, then red as Chrystina began to speak.
"Our investigation shows four of those cards are still in existence. One in each of your brothers' and sisters' names. Due to the nature of the crime, you and they are looking at up to twenty years in prison."
"In case that is not enough to convince you to leave quietly." Mrs. Vazquez stepped forward placing a folder in front of him. "These are still pictures of you over the years with women in rather...interesting positions."
William opened the folder. Color drained from his face as he looked at picture, after picture.
"To say you have a particular type would be an understatement, wouldn't you say so, Mr. Mitchell?"
Chrystina stepped forward. "Wow, Mr. Mitchell, I must say I'm shocked. I thought you were prejudiced. I can see that I was mistaken."
"A mistake," William mumbled.
"It seems you have a few secrets of your own," Myles added. “I can’t help but notice, each of the women in the pictures resembles my mother.”
William stood, his face so flushed it seemed as if blood was draining from his face in front of them.
"How long have you had these?"
"For years," Mrs. Vazquez replied. "Mr. Dunning had you followed and watched for years."
William looked at them, stunned. "Why?"
"He knew you were conspiring to take over his family's bank."
"Hep knew? All these years, he knew?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Then why...?"
"You introduced him to the love of his life,” Myles stated. “He never forgot that."
William just stared at him, unbelieving.
"Tell me, William." Myles stepped forward. "When did you fall in love with my mother? Was it before she met my father or after?"
"Winnie was mine...mine," he yelled. "Then your father stole her from me. From me." He poked himself in the chest. "I found her. I made her popular on that campus...me. And what did I get for it? The moment she found someone with more money she left me."
"Was she ever with you, Mitch?" Myles asked.
"That's not the point. I found her," he cried out. "I did. Not Hep...Me."
Tears were brimming in his eyes.
Myles looked from Mrs. Vazquez to Chrystina. "Mitch, I don't want to see you in jail. Sign the papers and go on with your life."
Chrystina stepped forward. "Mr. Mitchell, over the years you have conspired in one way or another to interfere with the growth of Dunning. That Mr. Hep kept you on board as long as he did was a sign of his loyalty towards you. However, you did not return that loyalty. In addition your first reaction to Myles being named the new CEO was to undermine his first major acquisition." She stepped closer to the desk. "In my opinion you are not trustworthy to the family or the bank, which I find unforgiving. You never married. You have no children that we know of. Dunning was your life. Yet you spent the last 30 years constantly trying to destroy the man who has provided your livelihood." She turned to Myles. "I hate for anyone to lose their job, but I have to support the decision for termination. He is not trustworthy. In this instance continuing to employ this man is a mistake."
Myles turned to Mrs. Vazquez.
"I concur, sir." She looked sadly at William. "I believe it would be a mistake to keep him on."
"A mistake," William hissed. "Thirty years of my life and you call it a mistake," he spit out.
Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Chrystina around the neck and threw her to the floor. He banged her head once and was pulling her up to do it again when Myles' two hundred pound body flew across the desk, taking William to the floor. He began punching the man with no remorse.
Mrs. Vazquez called for security as she helped Chrystina from the floor. It took three security guards to pull Myles off William.
"Take him out," Myles snarled.
"Take me out!" William yelled. "I own this bank." He pulled against the hold of the guards. "Thirty years...thirty years I carried Hepburn on my back. He would have never accomplished any of this without me. Me..." he yelled. "Get Winnieford on the phone. Call her now. She would never...never allow this."
Myles walked over to where the guards held him. "I was going to allow you to leave with your dignity intact."
"Allow....allow?" William was kicking and screaming. "Boy, you don't have the right to walk in the same light as me. You don't know your place, Hepburn...Don't you know you are to walk two steps behind me at all time...all times. That's how this world is. It was I...yes I, who allowed you to be in my presence. Doors opened because I was in front of you...Don't you think for one moment that I would let you take Winnieford and the bank too, boy...I built this...I built it all...Hepburn...do you hear me, boy?"
Myles and Chrystina glanced at each other as they realized William was losing it. His mind seemed to go back in time.
"Mr. Mitchell," Chrystina spoke softly as she approached him.
"Chrys," Mrs. Vazquez stopped her. "Let me."
"I'll call for an ambulance," Chrystina said.
"William." Mrs. Vazquez stepped forward.
"Marie, you tell them." William seemed to recognize her. "Tell them who I am." He spoke quietly. "That I am the Vice-president of this bank. I am to be treated with respect."
"I will tell them, William. You know Mr. Dunning listens when you are calm. Remember the breathing exercises we used to do?" She began to breathe deep, then let it out. "Let’s do them now," she encouraged William.
"Tell Hepburn what is happening. He will right this atrocity."
"I will," Mrs. Vazquez said as the guards escorted William out the office.
Chapter Twenty-Two
"What a freaking day," Chrystina sighed as she dropped to the chair in front of Myles' desk.
It was well after eight o'clock that night by the time William was taken away and things began to settle down. They had used the back entrance for the ambulance and the employees' elevator to take William away. Mrs. Vazquez went with William as Chrystina spoke with the police. Instead of having William arrested or sent home alone, Chrystina had him admitted to the hospital under what was once referred to as a green warrant. It was used when one believed a person is in danger of harming him or herself or others. Myles was too pissed to care one way or another what happened to Mr. Mitchell. However, Chrystina convinced him that protecting Mr. Mitchell was not only smart for Dunning, it was the humane thing to do. With the different office shootings taking place around the country, no one hesitated to have him hospitalized and checked out. Once Mrs. Vazquez updated them on William's condition, she was told to go home.
"Put this on your neck." Myles walked over with an icepack then literally dropped it on her lap.
Chrystina picked up the cold pack and placed it on the edge of his desk. "You know, I don't think I have ever seen you lose your cool."
"What are you talking about?" Myles asked as he walked back over to the bar and poured himself a double vodka, straight, no ice.
"I've seen you seriously concerned, deeply hurt by your father's death. But I don't think I have ever seen you ready to kill. What on earth was going through your mind when you came flying across that desk like a rocket out of hell?"
"He put his hands on you," Myles stated as he walked and sat behind the desk with a thump.
"So? I'm a big girl, Myles, I can take care of myself."
"Well you weren't doing a good job of it, Chrystina." He slammed the glass on the desk. "The man left marks on your neck for goodness sakes. You are a brown skinned sister. Red marks on your skin let me know he had a damn good grip on your neck."
She watched in awe as the vein in his throat pumped viciously. Something had to be done to calm him down. "Well, the important thing is Mr. Mitchell is in the hospital now. I hope his care will include a mental evaluation. He may be suicidal. Losing your father and his position with the bank all within the same month made him somewhat shaky. It sounded as if he was confusing you with your father."
"What is with you?" Chrystina yelled back as she glared at him. "You were the one who wanted to find a way to keep him on board. Now, all of a sudden you see him as the enemy. You sound like you want the man dead."
He slammed his hand on his desk. "He put bruises on you," he yelled again.
"So you said loud enough for the people standing in the line at the pearly gates to hear." She stood with her hands on her hips. "There is no way you can believe for one minute Mr. Mitchell would have harmed me or you for that matter. He was distraught, Myles. That's all." She glared at him.
"He slammed your head in the floor." He jumped from his chair. "What in the hell do you think I am? This damn day started with my youngest sister crying on my shoulder about a man I can't seem to find a damn thing out about. My mother stuffing a plate of waffles in her mouth, nearly choking just to prove to me it's okay to leave the house, Michael calling with some mystery revolving around one of our executive board members. Then I get to read about how inadequate I am as the president of this bank, Mitch trying to undermine a major commercial customer. Then having to meet with that customer with little or no prep time. Not to mention, releasing valuable employees from their positions." He then hit the desk with his fist again, causing Chrystina to jump. "Then to deal with the audacity of that man defaming my father's reputation, putting his hands around your neck. I'm a man, Chrystina. I don't have super powers that allow me to not feel some kind of way about this crap."
Before speaking Chrystina calmed her spirit, counted to ten, took a deep breath.
"I know you are a man, Myles," she spoke softly. "And you are right, it has been one hell of a day. I have to say I am honestly more than a little concerned about you. As president and CEO, this is what your days are going to consist of from now on. Not all will be this crazy, but they will be interesting. Once everyone settles in with the changes, the concept of your days will improve. But for now, during this time of change, it is what it is." She looked directly into his eyes. "Myles, the question you need to ask yourself is do you have the mental capacity to continue as CEO?"
"You planning on issuing a green warrant for me too?"
"Is your ass going crazy? Cause if you are, yes, I'm going to have to take you out in a straight jacket too. Where would that leave Dunning?"
The two held each other's glare for a long few minutes. It was a standoff.
"Grace Heather," Myles sighed.
"Which one? Grace I can handle. Heather..." Chrystina shook her head from side to side. "I don't know. I think I'd rather have to answer to your uncle Walker."
The look of disgust on Myles's face caused Chrystina to holler out loud in laughter.
"You cannot be serious," Myles laughed. "You would take Walker over Grace Heather?" He gave Chrystina a side eye.
"I would prefer to have the man I trust, Myles Dunning. However, I will take Walker over Heather. Have you seen the other side of your sister in action?"
"I have."
"No, I don't think you have. Not to the extent of us girls who have gone out to clubs with her."
Myles smiled. "I know she can get a little wild."
Pleased to see him returning to the even tempered man she loved, Chrystina decided to keep his mood change going in the right direction.
"A little wild? Let me tell you something." She crossed her legs, her thick brown thighs peeking from the side of her skirt. "We're in a club. There is a long bar, at least twenty feet of drinks lined up from one end to the next. There is a man at the opposite end of the bar drinking, with a woman mind you. Grace-Heather decides that's who she wants for the night. AnnieMarie and I are used to her antics, but this particular night she went all out."
Chrystina decided to demonstrate his sister's actions, as Myles retook his seat to hear the story.
"Now mind you we are at the beginning of the bar. Grace-Heather kicks off her heels, then used the stool to climb onto the bar. She yells, 'Make way. This woman is after that man.' She points at the man who is at the bar with another woman. The sister sitting next to him glares at Grace-Heather. AnnieMarie and I are removing our jewelry because we know we are going to have to fight this woman. Did any of that stop her? Nooooo."
Chrystina kicks her heels off allowing them to fling backwards, stood then walked to the side of Myles' desk. She sat his laptop on the floor. In one step she climbed onto the top of the desk. With hands on her hips she continues with the story as she acts it out.
"Your sister struts down the bar, bare feet, walking over people's drinks until she reaches the man of her desires, for the night. She then kneels on the bar in front of him, cleavage all in the man's face and says" -Chrystina's lips were a mere breath away from Myles'- "have you ever felt the power of a Lamborghini going 200 miles per hour? The woman sitting next to the man goes, well I never. She turns to look at the woman and says I believe you. She then turns back to the man and asks.." -Chrystina looks directly in Myles' eyes, then pursed her lips- "do you want to ride?"
#
It wasn't planned. He had no thoughts of doing it. Myles found his hand cupping her face then took Chrystina's lips with a voracity he did not know existed.
The moment their lips touched his world exploded. A possessiveness he could not explain took control. Every muscle in his body tensed as his heart rate spiked. His lips locked with hers. He pressed further causing her lips to part. His tongue plunged in between her lips. Exploring every corner, seeking all the sweetness she had to give. The world around him stopped. Frozen in the moment. The only thing existing was her. The way she laughed, the way she walked, the way she took care of him. It all flooded his mind as he took his fill of her sweetness. It wasn't enough, not for the day he’d had. Not for the lifetime of searching for this feeling. Not enough to relieve his testicles that were filling with need. Just not enough. He pulled her closer causing his chair to roll backwards.
What in the name of sweet Jesus was happening here? Chrystina's mind asked when it finally registered what she was doing. She was kissing Myles...again. Who made the first move she did not know, nor at the moment did she care. When his hand touched her face, the vessels in her body began humming. The sensations she felt a month ago were surfacing all over again. Then his lips touched hers and she could feel her nipples harden. It was the tongue exploring, touching every corner that caused her inner lips to moisten. She had no idea if this was right or wrong, but like before, she'd be damned if she would let this feeling go.
Her body matched the rhythm of his tongue. Before she could think about what she was doing her hands grabbed his arms and she moved forward, closer to his body.
His chair moved back, tipping with the additional weight. The crash landing on the floor shook them apart.
Myles braced her fall with his body, as the chair rolled from under them to the other side of the room. The rip of her skirt was heard as if it was the only sound in a library. He rolled to her side. "Are you hurt?" His hands checking everywhere.
Chrystina had not recovered from the kiss and could not answer.
"Chrystina." Myles' voice was laced with concern. "Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked again as he looked down at her.
She laid there with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. Then she realized she was hurt.
"You bit my tongue."
"What?" Myles stared down at her.
Chrystina opened her eyes then touched her tongue with her finger. "You bit my tongue. See." She held her tongue out and pointed to the spot.
"Let me see." Myles moved her hand away. He searched her mouth for any bruise or bite. "Turn your head to the side."
She did as he asked thinking he was still looking for the bite. He wasn't.
He kissed the side of her neck, then her cheek, then captured the sweetness of her mouth again. Thi
s time with the full understanding of what he was doing and intended.
He rolled on top of her then kissed the crest of her breasts. His fingers began unbuttoning her blouse. "I suggest you speak now or forever hold your piece, because I plan to have you, Chrystina Price."
He unclipped the front hook of her bra. "Chrys," he moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth. His tongue smoothly circling one while his thumb rolled over the opposite nipple.
"Myles." Chrystina cupped the back of his head as she fell back, taking in the sensual motion, allowing it to flow through her body like a dam running free. She wanted this, needed to know their first time at her place wasn't a mistake. Needed to know the ecstasy she felt that night wasn’t a dream. She needed him. Following his lead, she unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it over his broad shoulders and down his back. Her hands touched his naked flesh, feeling the muscles expanding under it.
He sat up. Yanked the shirt off, then pulled her skirt up. "Chrystina, stop me," he pleaded.
She shook her head as he pulled her skirt up her thighs.
He spread her thighs, admiring the smooth thickness with his lips, gliding up one then the other. He kissed her center, right where the moisture was building. He licked his tongue, then gently stroked her to the core. Tasting every bit of the juices flowing from his touch. Plunging inside over and over, as her body rose to his. He felt like a butterfly inside her cocoon, with the warmth from her thighs surrounding his head, her fingers now massaging his scalp, her sweetness filling him as he heard her breath catch, her muscles contract, and her body jerk.
He came up smiling as he crawled back to her lips, leaving her wet and throbbing for more of his touch. He kissed her, then looked down into her eyes. "That's the taste of you wanting me."
"Ahrrgh," she moaned. "Then give me what I want," she said breathlessly. "Give it to me now, Myles," she ordered as she unzipped his pants, pushed them over his hips.
He did not hesitate. He entered her with a slow, deliberate motion. The feel of being between her thighs was one thing. The heat of her inner lips caused an animalistic need to submerge himself deep inside of her and never come out. He plunged deeper as he pulled out and re-entered her. Deeper still when he did it again and again, loving the sound of his flesh hitting hers. He put her legs on his shoulders, then filled his hands with her behind, to get even deeper inside of her. He squeezed, and pumped, squeezed and pumped until he couldn't stand the building up of his seed ready to explode. The moment he felt her contractions, smothering, demanding, pulling what had built up inside of him, he let go. He just let go.