Epilogue
Cora
Graduation Day
As soon as I walk in the door I kick off my heels and peel off the horrible polyester robe that’s been making me sweat all day. Michael is right behind me, loosening his tie. There’s nothing like June in Texas: hot as hell, dry as a bone, and completely unbearable. “Thank God,” I say, flopping back onto the couch. “If that speaker had gone on any longer, I thought I might pass out. That or strip right there.”
Michael takes off his jacket and disappears into the bedroom, his laughter floating out. I never get tired of his laugh; the deep, sultry sound of it. That laugh could make a nun think dirty thoughts. And since I am most definitely not a nun, my thoughts are way past dirty. He comes out of our bedroom, still in his shirt and slacks, rolling up his sleeves, and I let myself look. All the way from top to bottom and back.
His hair is just a little bit messy from running his hand through it, and he’s wearing a deep blue shirt that brings out his eyes and makes the rest of him looking fucking fantastic. I study that jawline that made me take a second look the first day of my internship, and down along his body. He looks amazing right now, and if I didn’t know what he looked like naked, I’d say that Michael Foster in a suit is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Thankfully, I do know what he looks like naked. Halle-fucking-lujah.
Michael leans against the doorway, hands in his pockets. “Are you happy it’s over?”
“Graduation?”
He laughs. “No. College.”
I think about it for a second. “Maybe. I don’t know. I had a really good time—especially this last year.” I watch as the naughty smile appears on his face, but I keep going. “But I’m ready to start…everything.”
“Everything?” he asks, coming over to the couch, not bothering to sit.
I scoot forward to the edge of the couch, intentionally leaning forward so he can see my cleavage. The same move I used on him that first day. Works like a charm. Michael’s eyes go dark as he sees the way I’m leaning, the way I’m eating him up with my eyes, and I say, “Everything.”
Michael clears his throat. “As much as I would like to pull you over my lap and give you an extra dose of graduation day pleasure, we have a party to go to and dinner reservations.”
I stand up and wrap my arms around him, and from the feeling of his cock pressing against my hip, he’s very aware of the way my breasts are pressing against him. “Are you sure about that, Mr. Foster?”
He laughs again, this time more sensual. “Unfortunately, yes. Ellen spent a lot of time on that party, and if we don’t show up she’s going to make both our lives a living hell.”
“That’s true. I need to stay on her good side if I’m going to keep sneaking into your office during your lunch hour.”
“Keep bringing her those lattes and I don’t think we’ll have a problem,” he says. “But, before we go, I do have something for you.”
I raise an eyebrow, and make a meaningful glance towards the bulge in his pants. “Oh?”
Michael pulls me to the couch so that we’re sitting together. “Not that. That, I’m saving for later.” He leans forward and whispers, “And later, I’m not going to stop until you’re screaming in pleasure.”
I shiver, and before I know it, my lips are on his. I never get tired of his kisses, the way they set my body on fire and make me crave him in a way no man has ever done for me. I knew from that first day that he was different, that I wanted him. Michael pulls away, and I breathe, gasping for air because he steals my breath away. I realize that we’re both horizontal, without even realizing that we got that way. “I’m looking forward to later,” I say, breathless.
Michael smiles, pressing another kiss to my lips before he moves us upright again. “Me too.”
“So what is this thing you have for me? You already gave me the best graduation present ever by giving me a job.”
“Well,” Michael says, clearing his throat, “in about three weeks, it will be the one-year anniversary of the day we met. Of the day you walked into my office and knocked me off my feet. I thought about waiting for that day, but it didn’t feel right. It felt like this was the perfect day.”
A dawning feeling of shock rolls over me. Is what I think is happening about to actually happen?
“And I didn’t want to do this in public, because I wanted it to be just us, before we’re out with people and you’re swarmed with admirers.” He shakes his head, looking away for a second. “I’ve loved you since…I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t, even when I was spending all my time fighting it. And when you said you loved me and you agreed to move in with me, I thought that I was the happiest man in the world. But there’s one thing I can think of that would make me even happier.”
Michael moves off the couch, and suddenly he’s kneeling in front of me and I can’t breathe. This is real. This is really happening. Oh my God. Oh my God. My heart is pounding in my chest and I have an adrenaline rush and there’s a bubble of pure joy rising in my chest. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little box. Everything is blurry because there are tears in my eyes. He opens the box and a gorgeous ring—rose gold and diamonds—is inside.
“Cora Bradbury,” Michael says, “will you marry me?”
“Yes!” The word is out of my mouth almost before he’s finished the question, and then I’m on him. I can’t stop kissing him, and we collapse onto the floor together. I’m laughing through my tears, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy before. Michael pulls away, taking my hand and putting the ring on my finger.
“Rose gold to match your red hair.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s more to me than my red hair, Mr. Foster.”
“Believe me, future Mrs. Foster, I know.” He kisses my hand right over the ring, and the way he’s looking down at me, it makes my chest ache. There’s pure emotion there, and I feel it as he kisses me again. It’s slow this time, deep. He whispers the words against my lips, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Should we go to this party so that we can come back and I can make good on my promise?”
“Hmm,” I say. “I could try to seduce you into staying.”
Michael brushes the hair away from my face. “You could. Or we can change, go to the party, tell everyone and bask in all the congratulations, collect all the gifts I know people got you, and then come home and have a very long night of sex.”
“Just how long is this night of sex?” I ask.
“I’ve already told Ellen I’m not coming in tomorrow.”
I can’t keep the smile off my face, because I know what that means. It means that tonight he’s not going to go easy on me. He’s going to command me, and I’m going to let him, and when he finally lets me come, I’m going to explode. And if we’re not going to work tomorrow it’s going to happen again and again. I’m wet just thinking about it.
Michael laughs, and I realize that I just said that last part out loud. “Good. I expect you to be dripping when we get back here.”
“Dripping?”
“Yes. So that I can tear your clothes off and bury my cock in you over and over again.” He presses his lips to mine, hands running down my side. I can feel my body heating up, and I pull him down to me. As soon as I do, he pulls away. “Later.”
I pout. “Fine.”
He pulls me up off the floor, and never lets go of my hand as he pulls me to the bedroom. “Just because we’re waiting until later, doesn’t mean I don’t have every intention of watching you change.”
“Oh, is that so? Do you want me to put on a show for you?”
“If you put on a show for me, you very well may get your way and we’ll never leave the apartment,” he says, pulling out the suit he’s planning on wearing to the party.
“Then I’m definitely going to do that.”
Michael shakes his head as I start to wiggle out of my dress. “Don’t you dare.”
“Is that a command, Sir?”
“You bet it is.”
“Hmm,” I say, holding out my hand and admiring my ring. “I have one condition, one change that I want.”
He pulls me against him. “And what is that?”
“If I have to call you Mr. Foster, then you have to call me Mrs.”
The smile on his face blinds me and fills me up and turns me on and a million other things that overwhelm my every sense. “You have a deal, Mrs. Foster.”