“Yes,” she gasped.
“Do you deserve it? Have you been a good girl?”
Yes, Joe. Please, just like that.”
“Are you begging already?” I chuckled. I eased up my pace just to see what would happen. Terri followed, backing into me urgently.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Please, don’t stop.”
I didn’t know how much longer I was going to last. Terri managed to draw something out in me, an urgent need to have her, to find gratification as soon as possible. The overwhelming sensation within me could no longer be denied. I thrust into her quickly, picking a pace that was guaranteed to satisfy us both. Her walls started to tighten around me, stimulating me to the point where I was seeing stars. Terri’s moans grew frantic, voice eventually becoming so thin that she grew silent altogether, shuddering hard as she suddenly screamed out my name at the height of climax.
“Joe!” she cried, shivering in my arms as she rode out her high.
Seeing her in such a blissed-out state was enough to send me over the edge, too. With a few more powerful thrusts, I spilled into her, her tight walls gripping me in just the right way. I pressed my face to her back, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex and ecstasy. We lay down together, kissing slowly like we had all the time in the world. Nothing else mattered now that we had each other.
“I love you,” I whispered to her, the words bubbling past my lips before I had time to process. I don’t know why I said it, it just came out. But there wasn’t any need to worry because Terri smiled, pressing her forehead to mind.
“I love you, too,” she whispered back.
Epilogue
Terri
I was sat across from Frederick Bakerson on the other side of a large, custom carved mahogany work desk. I’d folded my hands neatly on my lap while he browsed through my printed portfolio, which consisted of several business news articles I’d written for various class assignments. I’d even included a couple of op-ed pieces concerning the city’s lack of bicycles lanes and the recent policy changes implemented by the mayor that ultimately made it more difficult for the homeless to seek out shelter. My portfolio was supposed to demonstrate not only my writing capabilities, but how well I conducted independent investigations into whatever issue I was assigned. I thought the work I’d presented was pretty damn solid, but Frederick was unfortunately unreadable.
He shifted through my articles again and again, mostly silent throughout the interview process, save for the occasional question for clarification. Frederick sat with great authority; brow knitted together in a frown of concentration. As he silently judged my work, I couldn’t help but look around the office. It was true that his family owned a prevalent news company, but the abundant journalism awards and plaques that hung on display made it obvious that Frederick wasn’t just a pretty face behind an affluent name. He had talent, too, a drive for the truth like I did. Which was why I found it so jarring that he was practically a different person out of the office. I could still recall our first encounter at Joe’s garage. First impressions were last impressions, after all.
“So I see here you haven’t graduated yet,” he commented, browsing over the application I’d filled out and submitted electronically.
“I’m set to graduate from the program come summer,” I explained. “I had to take a few months off for maternity.”
“I see. That’s right, I remember now. You’re Joe’s girl.”
I smiled and nodded, holding up my hand to show off the wedding band on my finger. Joe had a matching ring, though he often took it off to keep it from getting dirty while at work. “Yes, I am,” I giggled.
“That man is a genius when it comes to cars. Did I ever tell you about the time I totaled my Porsche? Joe fixed it up like it was fresh off the lot.”
“He’s definitely the best at what he does.”
“I’ll be honest, the hours we work can be a bit odd. Investigative journalism doesn’t usually stick to the nine to five timeframes. We try to be as accommodating as we can where families are concerned, but there’s no guarantees. Would those sorts of work conditions be agreeable with you?”
“That should be more than fine. Joe takes Hayley to work with him anyways, so I’m not too worried about working early or late.”
“Hayley?”
“My daughter,” I said with pride. “She’ll be one year old come June.”
Frederick chuckled. “That’s great. Although, I honestly have a hard time imagining Joe walking around with a baby in his arms.”
“He manages,” I said dryly. “He’s a great father.”
The man sitting before me whistled. “Joe freaking Mantaglio’s a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Do you have any questions for me?” I asked, doing my best to keep the interview process moving.