Page 174 of Still Here

Her hands curled into fists, her expression fierce. "You're safe, my Jules. If this happened because a man forced you—"

I shook my head again. "No, no. Nothing like that. I just needed…." I didn't know how to describe the events of the last few hours.

"Needed?"

I sighed. "Don't worry. I learnt my lesson. I won't be seeing him again."

She eyed me, doubt lurking in her eyes. "You're sure you’re okay?"

"Absolutely," I promised.

And I'd had every intention of keeping that promise—until the world ended.

Epilogue

POPE

Four years later

I stared at the woman standing in the courtyard of the club's ranch, unable to believe my eyes.

Is this a dream?

"Oh, fuck," I muttered.

Jules stumbled to a halt, her blue eyes wide with shock. "It's you."

Four years. Four fucking years since I'd seen her. Since I'd spanked her. Since I'd fucked her on a picnic table.

Four years and I still couldn't get the taste of her off my tongue.

"Wait, you know each other?" someone asked behind me.

"No," Jules protested.

"Yes," I corrected.

"That is—" she began, her sunburnt face flushing purple.

"We don't really—"

We fell silent, glaring at each other.

"Is this a sex thing?" the woman behind me asked.

Jules started, shaking her head vehemently. "No, it's not a sex thing!"

I cocked an eyebrow. "You sure about that, Little Red?"

She ducked her head and darted away, following the group of new refugees as they were escorted across the parade ground.

Anticipation sizzled under my skin, my hands itching to wrap around her delicate throat.

Run all you want, Jules. But here, in my club, there's nowhere to hide.

With a dark chuckle, I stalked after her, ready to claim my woman.

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