by Ashlee Price
“What’s the difference?” she asks with furrowed eyebrows.
“Well, writers can write anything. Journalists only write things that happen in real life. You know, they report it. But both can make a difference in other people’s lives.”
“So journalists can’t write about dragons?”
I bunch my eyebrows at her. “Dragons aren’t real?”
She chuckles. “I think I want to be a doctor.”
“An animal doctor or a people doctor?” I ask.
“I haven’t figured it out, but I like the white coats.”
“I’m sure you’ll look good in one.”
“And Janine says they make a lot of money.”
I pinch her cheek. “Maybe Janine’s right, but money isn’t all that matters, okay?”
“I know. Mommy used to say that all the time.” She lowers her voice to a whisper as she leans in my ear. “But she’s still always sad when we don’t have enough money, and I can always tell when we don’t.”
I squeeze her hand. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m here now.”
“Where were you?” Alexa asks me. “Mommy said you were dead. Did you come back to life?”
I chuckle, ruffling her hair. “I think I just did, sweetheart.”
~
“Is our daughter adorable or what?” I tell Ingrid as I lie down on the bed—the bigger bed in the bigger bedroom. Alexa is now sleeping in the smaller one.
“What,” Ingrid answers after gargling one last time at the bathroom sink. “She is not just adorable. She’s amazing.”
She wipes her mouth on a towel.
“Well, she’s just like her mother,” I say with a grin.
“Thank goodness for that.” Ingrid closes the bathroom door and comes to the bed. “But you know what?”
“What?”
She lies down beside me. “You’ve been talking all about her. I think I’m getting a little jealous.”
“Don’t worry.” I touch her cheek. “You’ll always be my first love.”
“Really now?”
“Really.”
I turn on my side and grasp her chin, about to kiss her, but the position puts pressure on my wound and I wince.
“It still hurts?” Ingrid asks, glancing at my thigh.
“A bit.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be moving too much.”
My eyebrows crease. “What? You’re not trying to get out of sex with me, are you?”
She chuckles, then turns serious as she touches my cheek. “Who said anything about not having sex?”
She gets off the bed and walks over to the closet.
“All I said was that you shouldn’t move too much, and to make sure of that…” She holds up a scarf.
My eyes grow wide as I realize what she’s planning. “No way.”
“Why not?” Ingrid climbs back on the bed with the scarf. “We are all for gender equality, are we not?”
“Of course, but…”
“Just this once.” Ingrid rubs the tip of the scarf against my cheek.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Alright, but only because I’m injured.”
She grins. “Fine.”
She holds her hand out. “Wrists, please.”
I reluctantly offer them to her.
Still grinning, she ties the scarf around them, then pushes my arms above my head.
“How does that feel?”
“Okay,” I answer in spite of my doubts.
She runs her fingers across my jaw. “Good. Now be a good boy and don’t move.”
Keeping her hand on my cheek, she lowers her mouth. Parting her lips, she dips her tongue inside mine and I close my eyes as the heat travels throughout my whole body, pooling in my groin.
As she crushes my mouth beneath hers, our tongues mingling, her hand slips under the hem of my shirt. It crawls across my tingling skin and over my quivering muscles, finally resting when it reaches one of my nipples and pinches the nub of flesh lightly.
My hands twitch and so does my cock. They’re both becoming restless.
Ingrid pulls away and pulls her shift off so I’m staring at her teal bra. It seems too small for her; her breasts are almost bursting out. She keeps that on, along with her matching underwear, but tosses her pajamas aside.
She gives me just a moment to take in her beauty—her firm breasts, the soft curve of her belly, her thin waist and her smooth thighs—before she’s on me again, kissing me. As she does, her fingers grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it up so that it bunches under my armpits.
Again, she tears her mouth away, and this time she takes her turn staring at my chest and my stomach, her sapphire eyes gleaming.
It’s that same look that she has on when she’s going after a story, a combination of curiosity, excitement and passion.
It makes my heart pound against my chest and my cock against my briefs. Suddenly, they both seem too tight to contain their frenzied prisoners.
Slowly, Ingrid traces the muscles of my chest.
“Have you always had this kind of body?” she asks.
“What? Is this an interview?”
She grins. “Why don’t we make it one?”
Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
“So, what’s the answer?” She plants a kiss right in the middle of my pectorals.
“Not always. I was a puny teenager, but in college I started running, getting…”
I gasp as she dips her tongue into my bellybutton, leaving me with a ticklish sensation.
“You were saying?” She lifts her head to meet my gaze.
“It’s rude to interrupt the person you’re interviewing, you know,” I remind her.
“Sorry.” She gives me a quick kiss as she traces circles on my rigid belly. “Please continue.”
“I said I started getting fit in college.”
“And what about this?” She cups my crotch. “When did you get this?”
I give another grasp as my cock throbs against her palm. “At birth, I think.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear. I meant this.”
She slips her hand beneath my shorts and my briefs and wraps her fingers around my cock.
It hardens and I purse my lips to hold back a moan.
“You know, you should really answer when someone asks you a question,” she tells me as she takes my stiff cock out and begins stroking it.
“And you know I’m going to get back at you for this,” I promise her.
She responds by licking the tip of my cock, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that takes my breath away.
“Fuck.”
Now I know what it feels like to have her touching me while I’m not touching her. Every brush of her fingertips and every swipe of that mischievous tongue makes me shudder.
“What did you say? Do you want to fuck me already?”
“Yes, please,” I answer breathlessly.
Ingrid shakes her head. “I think not, but I’ll give you a reward for being so polite.”
She wraps her lips around me and sucks.
A moan escapes my lips, my body trembling.
It’s a reward, alright, but it’s also torture, pushing my self-control to its limits.
She cups my balls as she gives another suck and then licks the length of my cock.
I shudder.
“Ingrid,” I gasp out her name.
“One last question,” she says.
“Yes?”
“How does this feel?”
She takes the whole of my cock in her mouth and swallows.
My hips rise off the bed, the heat from my balls spreading through every inch of my body.
She pulls away, licking her lips. “Well?”
“I don’t have words for it,” I admit, shaking my head. “Are we done now? With the interview, I mean.”
“Yes.”
She takes off my pants and my briefs, planting a reverent kiss over the bandage around my thigh, then lifts herself up to claim my lips.
Breathless, she gets off the bed to take off her bra. Her firm breasts with their stiff, rosy peaks spring free. When she lowers her panties, my eyes grow wide at the stain inside them.
She returns to the bed, this time climbing on top of me. She gives me another kiss, longer, deeper, stealing my breath. Then she grabs my cock and slowly lowers herself onto me.
I hold my breath, my chest hurting.
She takes me all the way in to the hilt, sitting on top of me, and my breath leaves me in a sound between a gasp and a groan.
Ingrid, too, gasps, her shoulders heaving, trembling.
Putting her hands on my chest, she begins moving her hips up and down. Her breasts are suspended right in front of my face. I long to touch them, straining against the scarf, but since I can’t, I lift my head to capture one in my mouth.
She moans, then leans back, beyond my reach. She throws her head back, her hair cascading behind her, dancing past her shoulders as she rolls her hips. Her eyes squeezed shut and her lashes fluttering, she moans, riding me.
She leans forward again, her hair a veil around her face. As she kisses me, her nipples rub against mine. Then she lifts herself up and moves faster. Grunting, I move my hips to meet hers. The sound of skin slapping against skin bounces off the walls.
Her eyes meet mine. “I thought I told you not to move.”
“I can’t help it,” I tell her. “You’re too sexy.”
That said, I pull my wrists free, the scarf unraveling above me. Lifting her, I switch our positions and climb on top of her, gripping her thighs as I start pounding into her.
I kiss her to silence her protest, but even after I’ve pulled my mouth away, I hear none, only loud moans and soft cries as she wraps her arms and legs around me.
Pain shoots up my thigh but I ignore it, jerking my hips as I lose control.
It’s amazing I’ve been able to hold back for this long.
With a long groan, I bury myself deep inside her, my feverish cock quivering with its release.
Clamping her hands on my ass, she trembles beneath me seconds later, her mouth open in a silent scream.
I lie down on the bed, completely out of breath. She snuggles next to me, gasping as well.
“How’s your thigh?” she asks.
I jerk as she brushes against it. “I’m fine.”
She slips a hand under me, squeezing my ass.
I turn my head towards her. “What was that for?”
“I’ve just been wanting to do it.”
“Have you now?”
“No. Actually, this is what I’ve been wanting to do.”
She pushes me onto my side and nips my ass.
“Ow,” I complain at the pain from my wound and from the edge of her teeth.
Ingrid just gives me a mischievous grin.
“You know, you’ve been very naughty.”
I sit up, tickling her. Her laughs and squeals fill the room.
“Stop!” she says, half laughing. “You’ll wake Alexa.”
I stop, realizing that it’s true. Come to think of it, it’s a miracle she’s still asleep what with all the noise Ingrid and I have been making.
She pulls my shirt down and rests her head on my chest, right above my heart.
I glance at her, seeing her lips curved into a smile. “You’re happy.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” she asks, her eyes meeting mine. “You’re here. Besides, I’m done with my story.”
“I thought so.”
“I’m not sure it’s the right piece, but I love it.”
I touch her cheek. “Then I’m sure everyone else will, too.”
“What about you?” she asks me. “Are you done?”
“Almost.”
“Don’t slack off on my account, now,” she warns, waving a finger at me.
“You know me. I’ll give it my best,” I promise her.
She smiles. “And may the best story win.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ingrid
“Thank you for coming.”
Cassie enters the conference room—Conference Room 2 this time—with two other people, an older, Asian-looking woman and a bald man in his fifties.
I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath.
“Once again, I apologize for all your troubles.” Cassie sits down at the end of the table. “On behalf of my uncle, I am so sorry. He wanted to convey his apologies himself, but he has already resigned for the company.”
I raise an eyebrow, glancing at Conner.
I’m not sure how much of that is fact and how much is the press release. At any rate, it doesn’t matter.
“I also would like to inform you that the company has decided to compensate you for your troubles,” Cassie continues. “As well as Ms. Tiffany Jordan, who has decided not to join us today.”
“And Ed?” I ask.
“The company paid for all funeral expenses, and a trust fund has been arranged for his children.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Ed had children?”
“Two,” Cassie answers. “One in college and one seventeen. Both have been living with his wife and her second husband for over ten years now.”
I nod.
Poor Ed.
“Of course, I would also like to thank you for stories,” Cassie goes on. “They were both superb, no less than great and no less than we expected from each of you.”
Her gaze goes from Conner to me, and I smile.
“Now, on to the important part. But first, allow me to introduce two other people at this company, Dan Smith and Gina Chang.”
The people sitting beside Cassie smile.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Conner stands, offering his hand. “I’m Conner Blake.”
They shake his hand but say nothing. Cassie didn’t even give their titles, which doesn’t help me figure out why they’re here. I’m guessing it has something to do with the job offer, if there is still one.
“Dan and Gina both helped me make the decision that I’ll be announcing today.” Cassie clasps her hands on the table. “First of all, the company has decided to push through with the news magazine, even though my uncle came up with it. We still think it’s a good idea. As such, we still need an editor-in-chief. We…”
Suddenly, Conner raises his hand.
“Yes?” Cassie turns to him, along with all the other pairs of eyes in the room, mine most surprised of all.
What is he doing?
Conner stands up slowly, hands in his pockets. “I would just like to say that I think Ingrid should get the job.”
My jaw drops. “What? But…”
“I think she’s a better journalist than I am,” Conner goes on. “Even though she is less experienced.”
I shake my head, throwing him a look of disbelief.
“Ingrid, do you have anything to say?” Cassie asks me.
“Yes, if I may.” I smooth the front of my white blouse as I stand up. “I think if it’s a choice between me and Conner, then Conner should get it. Like he said, he’s more experienced. He has more contacts. And he is very hard-working.”
This time, Conner looks at me in disbelief, shoulders bunched up.
I ignore him, looking at Cassie. “Also, I have other reasons, selfish reasons maybe, but well… for one, I think I’d rather devote time to my daughter. She is growing up so fast. And two, if Conner doesn’t get this job, he’ll go back to Dallas, and I don’t really want him to. Our daughter needs him.”
Cassie’s eyes pop out.
I glance at Conner. “And I need him.”
I take my seat and for a moment, silence falls over the room.
Then Cassie exhales. “Well, I guess I know what the inspiration for your piece is. Are you saying you don’t want the job, Ingrid?”
I nod.
“But…” Conner begins to protest, but Cassie holds up her hand.
“Well, like I said, the person who writes the best story becomes the editor-in-chief of our news magazine. And that
person…”
She pauses, and I hold my breath. Across the table, I see Conner doing the same.
“Is Conner Blake,” she finishes, turning to him.
Joy explodes in my chest.
“Your story was genuine and inspiring,” Cassie tells him. “And it resonated with everyone. So, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Conner mutters under his breath.
I turn to him with a wide smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Starting next week, you’ll be working with Dan.” Cassie gestures to the man beside her. “He will be the publisher of the magazine.”
This time, he’s the one who shakes Conner’s hand. “I look forward to working with you.”
“Me too,” Conner tells him. “We’ll work together to make this magazine a success.”
Dan nods. “I have high hopes.”
“As does everyone else in the company,” Cassie adds.
“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Conner promises.
“We also decided that as the editor-in-chief, you will have the option to choose your own associate editor,” Cassie informs him. “At least, for now.”
The bit of information takes me by surprise. He does?
“After all, we want you to work alongside someone you can trust, someone you can get along with. These first few months will be bumpy.”
Conner turns to me. “Then I’ll choose…”
“Before you make your choice,” Cassie interrupts, “I have something to say to Ingrid.”
She turns to me as well. “Ingrid, your story wasn’t exactly what we asked for, but it was a beautiful feature. You wrote straight from your heart, and you captured ours. That’s why Gina thought she’d offer you a different job.”
My eyebrows shoot up. What?
“Gina is a good friend of mine, and she is an editor for a publishing company that is soon to be a part of ours,” Cassie explains. “Their company publishes popular magazines as well as non-fiction books. We thought you’d be a great fit.”
I place my hand over my rapidly beating heart. “Really?”
Gina nods. “Our office is in Denver. You’ll need to attend the meetings at the office twice a month, but otherwise you can work from home. That should give you plenty of time to take care of your daughter, yes?”