Bonus Epilogue
Millie
“This book was so good,” Violet says as everyone begins packing up to leave book club.
“I agree,” I reply, smiling at her, still buzzing from the lively discussion we just had.
The room is filled with the sound of quiet chatter and the soft rustling of bags as the ladies gather their things. But the noise fades into a hush when Hazel steps in front of me, her curious eyes fixed on mine. “Any news on Tripp’s new book?” she asks, her excitement clear.
I can’t help the proud smile that spreads across my face.
Knowing that everyone is just as eager for his next release as I am makes my heart swell.
We’ve just returned from a whirlwind book tour, an experience that still feels like a dream.
Watching the crowds of people—mostly women—show up to meet Tripp was beyond incredible.
At times, the sheer number of fans was overwhelming, but standing in the background, watching him interact with them, I couldn’t have been prouder.
He signed countless books, took photos, and listened intently as readers gushed about his writing.
Each time he’d look up and flash me that knowing smile, my heart melted all over again.
I was glowing with pride, not just because of his success, but because I’d seen firsthand how hard he worked and how long he’d kept his talent hidden.
He deserves every bit of this, and seeing it finally come to life made all the sleepless nights worth it.
I’ll also admit, a part of me adored every moment someone asked, “Does Tripp have a girlfriend?” He’d always lift his eyes to meet mine, a soft smile spreading across his face as he said, “I do. She’s the love of my life.
” And I swear, I swooned every single time.
It was a little thrill, knowing he was mine, especially in those moments when the attention was all on him, and he still found a way to make me feel seen, cherished, and loved.
“He’s working hard on it,” I say, my voice filled with affection. “It’s coming along beautifully.”
Hazel beams at me, as if she’s rooting for us just as much as she’s excited for the book. And in that moment, surrounded by our little book club, I realize just how much this journey has brought me closer to Tripp—and to the dream we’re both now living.
The ladies excitedly chat about what Tripp’s next book could be about as they gather their bags and head toward the door. Their guesses are wild and varied, ranging from intense romance to thrilling mysteries, and I can’t help but giggle as I follow behind to lock up the store.
“You’re so lucky, Millie,” Violet says with a grin, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. There’s a heaviness in her tone that makes me pause.
“Everything okay?” I ask, stopping just before she reaches the door.
She shrugs, pushing the door open. “No, but that’s for another day.”
Before I can question her further, she steps outside, the night air catching the loose strands of her hair. I watch her retreat, feeling a tug of concern pull at my chest.
Violet’s father passed away recently, and though she’s been trying to put on a brave face, I know she’s struggling more than she lets on.
She’s been busy running the ranch he left behind, and I suspect the weight of that responsibility is taking a toll on her.
I’ve been trying to be there for her, offering support whenever I can, but it’s difficult.
She’s always busy, always pushing herself, and I can tell she’s not really letting herself grieve.
As the door clicks shut behind the last of the ladies, I stand there for a moment, my hand resting on the lock, thinking about Violet.
It’s hard to watch someone you care about go through so much, especially when they refuse to ask for help.
I make a mental note to check in with her again soon, maybe invite her over for coffee or lunch, something to remind her she’s not alone in all of this.
With a deep sigh, I lean against the counter and stare out the large window of my bookstore. My thoughts linger on Violet and the quiet pain she’s been carrying. She may be strong, but I know all too well how heavy that burden can be when you carry it alone.
“You know the last time I caught you standing here staring out the window you were wishing that someone could give you an orgasm.” Tripp’s deep, familiar voice wraps around me like a warm blanket, offering comfort I didn’t even realize I was craving.
He’s always had that effect on me, knowing exactly when I need him without me saying a word.
I turn to face him, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “How’d you sneak in without being seen?”
That grin—the one that still makes my knees go weak no matter how many times I’ve seen it—spreads across his face as he steps closer. “The same way I did it the very first time. When book club is happening, no one pays attention to much else,” he teases, his voice low and full of affection.
I can’t help but smile at the memory of him sneaking into the bookstore that first time, slipping in unnoticed while I was completely absorbed in a discussion about plot twists and character arcs.
It feels like a lifetime ago, yet his presence still sends a thrill through me just like it did back then.
“You look more beautiful than you did the first night I was in here,” he says, his eyes bouncing between mine.
My breath catches as his eyes begin to darken with a need I’m now feeling myself.
“We made a deal that night, standing right here.” His voice is low and seductive as we both breathe heavier.
“Changed both our lives,” I reply, staring into his heated gaze.
“Sure as hell did.” He pulls me to him and slams his mouth on mine.
His body presses against me until my back hits one of the bookshelves. I’m briefly reminded of this happening once before, but this is different. This is passion, need, want, and love.
“I promised you I would give you an orgasm and haven’t stopped since,” Tripp says, kissing down my neck.
“You sure haven’t,” I moan as his hands push up the bottom of my sundress.
When his finger reaches my center, he stills, snapping his head up to lock his eyes with mine.
“No panties? Damn, my little bunny is a dirty little girl.” His fingers rub my wet pussy and my head falls back, hitting into some books and knocking them off the shelf.
“Is this what you wanted, what you hoped for?”
“Yes, oh God, yes,” I moan out.
It is exactly what I hoped for when I got dressed today, minus the panties.
I imagined him discovering I had nothing on under my dress and that he’d go animalistic.
He’s not wrong when he calls me a dirty girl, but I’m only that way with him.
He brings out this side of me that I never knew existed until him.
“You’re dripping wet. It’s so fucking hot knowing my touch does this to you,” he says, pushing his fingers inside me.
“Oh, Tripp,” I cry out.
The way he causes my body to react is still shocking. It’s more than I ever hoped for when I wanted someone to give me an orgasm.
Tripp removes his fingers, causing me to lift my head and look at him. Just as my eyes meet his, I watch as he sucks on his fingers that were just inside me.
“Fuck,” I whisper, more turned on with the erotic move.
“You taste so damn good, little bunny.” He runs his fingers through my wetness again, sucking them clean. “My favorite treat.”
I’m so turned on. So needy. It’s unbelievable the ability he has to make me feel like I’m going to explode with just a touch.
“I need you, Tripp, please,” I beg, running my hands down to unbuckle his belt.
He allows me to unbutton his pants before grabbing my hands and pinning them above my head.
We’re in my bookstore, which I haven’t even locked up, in sight of the window.
It should make me want to stop and move up to the bedroom or at the very least to the back of the store.
But I don’t. The thought that we could be caught heightens the feel of every touch. It’s erotic and daring.
His hand tightens around my wrists as his other hand glides down my body. Those green eyes lock onto mine as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “You make me wild when you beg. A possessiveness I didn’t know existed takes over and I can’t stop my reaction.”
I moan wanting, no needing, more. “So show me, Tripp. Show me how my begging makes you react. Please,” I cry out.
He lets out a possessive growl as he quickly works to get his jeans down to his knees. His huge, hard cock juts out in front of him and I feel the wetness running down my thighs. Those large, talented hands of his lift me so quickly I don’t have time to even process it all.
My back slams against the bookshelf, just as my dress is pushed up. His dick teases my entrance and I whimper needing him inside me.
“Reach up and hold onto the bookcase, little bunny. You’re gonna wanna hold on,” he demands, his voice thick with want.
As my hands reach behind me and connect with the cold wood, Tripp slams into me.
“Yes! Oh God, Tripp,” I shout.
His cock fills me, stretching me with each deliciously slow push and pull. It only lasts a moment before he’s driving into me, fucking me like the dirty girl I want to be with him.
“This is what you do to me, Millie. You feel how hard my cock is? How fast I need to pound into you? I can’t control myself and I won’t want to,” he groans.
His movements never slow, never falter. He continues his punishing rhythm, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
There’s no hiding or embarrassment with Tripp.
I let myself go, allow myself to feel everything and he’s so damn good at making me feel it all.
He knows how to move, where to touch, what to say to get me screaming his name.
And I fucking love it. Just as much as I love him.
“I’m so close,” I cry out, my grip tightening on the bookshelf.
“Come on me, little bunny. Give me your release because it belongs to me.” His heated eyes lock with mine and my body begins to shake. “That’s it, come for me you dirty girl.”
That’s it. I can’t fight it if I wanted to. My release crashes over me like a tsunami as I shout out his name.
“Oh, Tripp,” I whisper as my orgasm continues to take over my body.
“You have no idea how good it feels when your greedy pussy tightens on me. I’m not going to last and I’m going to come deep inside you,” he groans, still pounding into me.
His muscular body flexes with each thrust. It’s so incredibly sexy and when his body stiffens and his head drops back, I feel another orgasm rip through me.
“Fuck, Millie!”
“Tripp, oh God, I’m coming again!”
It’s intense as it brings a sated feeling over me.
My arms drop, wrapping around his neck as my head falls forward onto his chest. His arms hold me tighter to him and we both just hold on while we both recover.
After a few minutes, Tripp kisses the top of my head. “I will never get my fill of you, Millie.”
“That makes two of us.”
I feel his smile as he sits me on the counter. He quickly pulls his jeans back up before resting his hands on my thighs. His eyes reflect the calm I feel spreading through my body, grounding me in this perfect moment between us.
“I love you, Millie,” he says softly, his voice like a gentle caress. “I swear, every day I love you more, if that’s even possible.”
I feel the warmth of his words seep into my chest, fighting back the tears that shimmer in my eyes. I smile up at him, my heart full. “It’s possible, because I love you more every day too, Tripp.”
He leans in and kisses me, slow and tender, filled with an emotion that wraps us in a bubble of our own.
The kiss isn’t rushed or heated; it’s deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, pouring everything he feels for me into this one perfect moment.
It’s a kiss that says more than words ever could—how deeply we’re connected, how far we’ve come, and how certain we are of where we’re going.
This man, this incredibly talented man who writes romance like he’s lived it a hundred times over, is mine.
And I’m his. I never would have imagined that this would be my life—that I’d find someone who not only fits into every corner of my heart but also makes me feel whole in a way I didn’t even know was possible.
I pull back slightly, resting my forehead against his, savoring the closeness. "I still can’t believe this is our life," I whisper, my voice full of wonder. "We’re happy, living our dreams... and totally in love."
His arms tighten around me, his smile soft as he gazes into my eyes. "I’d say we’re doing pretty damn well."
And we are. In this moment, surrounded by love, I know that everything we’ve built—our relationship, his writing, the life we’re creating together—is more than I could’ve ever dreamed. It’s real, and it’s ours.