Provoked (Forbidden Crush #2)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Three years later

My muscles protest when I exit the car in front of the stately home Ingrid managed to persuade me to buy two years ago. Well, technically she did most of the buying, but one look at the decaying front porch and tumbling chimneys and I knew it would be a money pit.

It’s been a helluva day. We leave for a month in Montana first thing in the morning. Hence me leaving the car up front for the luggage. And consequently, I went back to some of my old ways at the office in order to get everything done and handed off in time. The staff may need the month to recover, but I pay them well so they can cope. And the old timers can inform the newbies how lucky they have it.

I head in through the front door, expecting to see an excited Ingrid reigning over a mound of luggage. But the hall is empty, and the house is quiet. My suspicions aroused, I head down the hall and to the back conservatory, which has been remade into her design studio. Sure enough, she’s hunched over her drawing table, biting on her left thumbnail while her right hand draws.

Softly, I approach and don’t warn her of my presence until my lips descend on the back of her neck. Ingrid leaps off the stool with a shriek, but I catch her in midair. “Justin! You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing home so early?”

I raise both eyebrows at that but continue kissing the side of her neck while shoving my left wrist with the fancy watch she bought me for my birthday in front of her eyes.

“Oh,” she mumbles. “I thought it was only about two.”

“It’s not,” I tell her with a grin as I set her on her feet.”And whatever that is will just have to wait until we’re back because the same rules about work apply to you, missy.”

Those would be the rules about not doing any work during our month away. I had to extend her strictures about me not working to her as well that first year when I kept losing her into a sketchbook.

Ingrid nods decisively. “You’re right. I’ll be good.” She says it with such a saucy look that I don’t quite believe her, although I trust that no sketchbooks will be going into the luggage.

“Did you even start packing?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Nooo. But it won’t take me long.”

I snort at that. It will take hours while she weighs the pros and cons of each outfit and whether it will look like she’s showing off or trying too hard in Montana.

“I tell you what. After we have dinner with Fred and Kate, you can have two hours to pack and then I’m fucking you and I don’t care if it’s into an open suitcase or not.”

Her lips find mine, sweet and gentle like always. “Bad day? ”

“Yes,” I grumble.

“Do you want to fuck me first? We could push dinner back half an hour.”

“I do, but I’m not going to. I want everything ready for tomorrow and then I plan to use the last of my energy on your sweet body before falling into a deep and reviving sleep with absolutely no nightmares about demanding clients that can’t hear the word no.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” she asks innocently with doe-wide eyes while her hand moves to the front of my trousers, causing my cock to leap to attention. “I can be quick.”

I groan even as I pull her hand away gently. “You don’t get any of that until you’re packed, baby. Come on, let’s find Fred and Kate. And the pizza.”

Teasing Justin is my new favorite hobby. I’ve been practicing for the last three years and it never gets old. And he’s already looking a little more relaxed and like his new old self as we head down the stairs. He’ll ‘punish’ me later for getting him aroused ahead of his plans, but he’s not truly upset.

Fred and Kate are leaving tomorrow, too. On their honeymoon! Although both of them grouse that they’re too old to call it that. Fred came with us to this new house. At first it was because I didn’t want him wandering off into obscurity and we needed someone onsite while all the tradespeople were coming and going, but then it just sort of fit. He moved into the cottage at the back of the property and now he ‘supervises’ the gardeners and grumbles genially at the noisy birds (which he feeds). Kate came along once we moved out of the penthouse. At first she was reluctant, but when we pointed out that she was due for retirement in a year or two anyway and this way she could make her own hours, she finally agreed. Initially, she and Fred were at loggerheads, but then slowly they seemed to slip into each other’s private time more and more. I was delighted. Justin was bemused.

Now Kate and I clean both residences together one day a week. When I remember, I make meals for Justin on the three days he goes into the office, but otherwise he cooks. But tonight we’re all having pizza on the back patio so that there aren’t any dishes.

Justin leads me out to the table already set with paper plates and a bottle of champagne chilling in ice. “Champagne with pizza?” I ask quizzically, although I’m not objecting. Rose and I had that exact meal on our last day of college.

Fred rounds the corner with a stack of three pizza boxes and a frown. “They got the damn order wrong again. There’s enough here for a week.”

“Then we’ll put it in the freezer for when we get back,” I offer, thinking that’s not such a bad idea.

Kate comes up and takes the top box off the stack. “Come on, let’s eat. I don’t want to be exhausted when I see Italy for the first time.”

Fred’s cranky expression softens into a smile, and we all sit down.

Three hours later, Justin moves my hands out of the way and snaps the last suitcase shut. “Time’s up, Ingrid.”

“But what about…” His mouth is on mine before I can get the words out.

“No,” he says firmly. “Whatever it is, you can do without it.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he kisses me again. “Even underwear, especially underwear,” he mutters, making me giggle.

“Now, since you’ve kept me waiting, I think it’s only fair you do most of the work. It’s time you learned to ride me, sweetheart.”

I flush with excitement. He’s either really tired or feeling extra generous. He never lets me be in charge or on top.

“Really?” I ask skeptically.

He nods firmly, already sliding the zipper down on my dress. Then he strips and directs me into position astride his narrow hips, his cock ready and waiting for me.

I bite my lip in concentration as I lower myself onto him. Justin steadies me with his hands, but otherwise lets me go at my own speed. It’s heady stuff being in control for however briefly.

Justin smirks at me when I finally wince as my thighs begin to protest this new position. “Had enough, sweetness?” he asks too innocently.

I narrow my eyes at him, but finally nod. He reaches a hand between us and begins tugging on my clit. The second my orgasm hits, he reaches up to brace me and rolls us both over. I stare up into his face. “Did you have that all planned?” I gasp as my body continues to spasm on his large cock.

His face contorts. “I think that was adequate punishment, don’t you, Ingrid? I think we’ll have to revisit this one again in the future.”

He pounds into me, with a speed and urgency in direct contrast to my more leisurely movements earlier. It’s making the energy rebuild in my core, sending tingles out to the ends of my fingers. When Justin cums with a long shuddering groan, so do I. I hold him close to me, not giving him leverage to roll us over like I know he wants to.

“I love you so much,” I whisper.

His hand briefly squeezes my ass, indicating he heard before he finds enough purchase to roll us to the side. “Then behave and stop provoking me,” he growls in my ear, an answer so perfectly Justin that my smile widens into a grin that just won’t leave my face. He’ll never be that guy who says I love you just because I said it, but he shows me that he does every single day and in so many ways. And every once in a while he slips the actual words in when I’m least expecting them, which is absolutely perfect.