10. Jonas’s Epilogue
End of the semester
I t will take weeks my diploma to arrive in the mail, but the grades are in and the credits are earned. School is officially—and finally—over for me.
After the fundraiser show, Felicity and I spent the night together in her apartment and walked into the Dean’s office the next morning hand-in-hand, prepared to present a united front to my mom Hannah and take our knocks. Whatever punishment the Dean saw fit to dole out, we’d tackle it together.
Turns out, we were facing both of my moms.
Mama Hannah had calmed down a lot after storming out of Felicity’s office, taking the time to reflect on the things I’d said to her and on what she knew about Felicity as a person. I was surprised when she admitted that she did still view me as a child, but only because she felt it was her right as a parent and she would endeavor to treat me more like an equal.
Regarding my relationship with Felicity, she grumbled about how we shouldn’t have engaged in “those activities” on school grounds, but that she had no objection to our love. In fact, she expressed warmth and genuine affection for Felicity as a person and said that she remembered well the pain of not having had support for the love she shared with my mom when they’d started dating.
As far as professionally speaking, Mama Hannah was prepared to dismiss the matter out of hand. She said it was because I’d been lucky that I’d dropped the class so early, there was no record of it in the system so as far as anyone was concerned Felicity had never been in a position of power above me. So, as Dean, she’d overlook the matter seeing as I was and adult and graduating this term.
Mama Maureen then broke the news that she’d liked the sound of the band I’d put together and acknowledged that I had an ear and eye for talent that she would be interested in cultivating. In lieu of a graduation present and instead of the job she’d been holding for me, she’d grant me the seed money required to set up my agency. She made it clear that it wasn’t a hand out, but an investment she was making into my future.
One she would require I repay with interest and dividends.
I managed to surprise everyone when I said that I welcomed the funding, but had saved and earned enough to invest in my new venture as well.
And now, as I look around the small office space I’d secured to be the home base of my company, I’m ready to step into my future alongside the woman I hope will someday be my bride.
“Hello, hello, hello. Anyone home?” Felicity knocks on the door of my office and strides in as the door slams shut behind her. She looks incredible in her end-of-term casual skirt and mock turtleneck that accentuates each of her curves that I love so much.
“Welcome to Jonas Baxter Talent Management,” I say, popping the cork on the pinot noir I’d bought just for the occasion and pouring us both a glass.
“Thought you didn’t really drink.” Her smile is radiant as she takes the glass from my hand, our fingertips brushing for the briefest of moments and that contact sends an arrow of desire straight to my cock.
“It’s a special occasion,” I say, handing her the glass.
“We have lots of celebrating to do.”
“To good endings,” she says, eyes dancing as she raises her glass.
“To new beginnings,” I counter. Then I clink my glass against hers and twine my arm around hers and we both take a sip.
But it turns out I don’t much care for the taste of wine. I end up snorting and failing to untangle my arm from Felicity’s. Instead, I spill the stuff down my own shirt, the red stain blooming as the liquid seeps into the cotton and through to my skin.
“Oh, no! Not again,” Felicity gasps, setting her glass aside and immediately dabbing at my stomach with her skirt.
When her hand travels lower, to the straining bulge in my pants, I arch into her touch. Her gaze flies to mine and her mouth twitches as realization dawns.
“You did it on purpose.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“About this?” she cups me in her hand and I groan. “Whatever the hell I want. You’re my boy toy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“And you said you’d give me whatever I asked of you, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“So give me your best. Give me your all. Give me your cock, Jonas.”
And I do. I give it to her on my desk, against the wall, and on the floor of my office.
But with love burning bright inside me with every kiss and touch, the thing I give her most is my heart.
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