Epilogue
Waves crashed lazily against the beach. The cloudy sky almost seemed cheerful in its disposition. Seagulls squawked and crabs scuttled sideways.
Nala Nazarov perched on the hood of a luxury sedan, taking in the fresh, salty air.
It was the most at peace she had felt in so long that she almost felt like she was dead.
A blissful, heavenly death. As she lay back and let her hair be whipped around by the sea breeze, she imagined rose petals cast around her body and candles burning on the ground.
A fitting farewell to someone only a few people knew.
“They said if we keep going south, we’ll hit the caves soon enough.”
Nala turned her head and opened her eyes, finding Varen leaning against her car. “Come sit with me,” Nala said. “It’s a beautiful day.”
Varen stared at the white, somewhat gray sky before looking back at her. “You have a funny definition of beautiful.”
“It’s beautiful to me.”
The car sank as Varen sat next to her, her jeans stiff but her cotton T-shirt flexible. The blazer she wore over the shirt had a habit of turning Nala on every time Varen looked at her. The hair she wore down around her face made her dark and dangerous. Nala knew she was anything but.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Nala smiled. Thanks for proving my point. “Did you bring me a maple bar?”
Varen leaned her head back. “Forgot. Was too distracted by the waitress’s, erm, assets. She had a lot, and they were very pushed into my face.”
“Uh-huh. Checking out another woman’s tits. I see how you are.”
“To be fair, unless I closed my eyes or put my hand over my face, I didn’t have a choice.”
“You saying mine are too small to have the same effect?”
“What? No way!”
Nala shoved her. “I’m joking.”
“You better be.”
“I am!”
It was one of many pranks she had pulled on her since life settled down again.
In the several weeks since the raid at Xan Ravenwood’s house in the West Hills, Varen and Nala had made strides to work more like a real couple and less like partners in crime.
That meant more dates. And less espionage.
And a whole lotta sex. She was afraid happy Varen wouldn’t be as into the kind of sex they liked, but Nala had been pleasantly surprised at how often she needed to recuperate after an hour-long session with her “Mistress.”
Of course, there’s the fact the bastard died…
Killed. Murdered. Something had happened in the yard of Ravenwood’s mansion, but the FBI dropped the investigation shortly after it began.
Maggie stopped by Varen and Nala’s to assure them that “neither were suspects,” particularly Varen, who happened to be in the vicinity when someone wasn’t watching Ravenwood’s van.
Varen vehemently denied shooting Ravenwood with a stolen FBI gun.
How could she, when her prints would have been on the weapon?
Except the only prints, Maggie said, belonged to the agent who owned the gun.
An agent who had a good alibi because he was interviewing a landscaper in the yard when his gun was stolen and used to shoot Ravenwood in the head.
It was too dark for any cameras to have picked up anything.
Everyone except Hawk claimed to have seen nothing.
Varen says she didn’t do it, so I believe her.
The official story was that Ravenwood died via “suicide by cop” while being apprehended.
The media (including social media) was happy to accept the story.
But Nala wondered. Sometimes, she looked at her girlfriend and thought, “She could have done it. She would have totally shot Ravenwood if given the chance.”
But Varen neither denied nor confessed in front of Nala.
When asked about it, she said, “I’ll only talk about this once: I know what happened.”
Varen was taking it to her grave. Whether she did it, or some other victim of Ravenwood’s took their chance…
Nala might never know. She only had her imagination.
And some slight jealousy that she wasn’t the culprit.
So she daydreamed about it. Much like she dreamed about the new life she got to live.
Other, sometimes more personal, things had transpired as well.
Nala officially changed her address to Varen’s.
She also didn’t get a new job. Instead, she decided to live off her sugar mommy girlfriend’s money without any guilt and do something else with her life.
Namely, enroll in the local community college with the goal of eventually transferring to a four-year university.
Her first classes started in two weeks. Until then, she was enjoying the time she had to go shopping, play video games, and go on driving excursions with her busy billionaire girlfriend.
Varen was in a lull between projects again.
Whenever this happened, she got the traveling bug, insisting on a weekend in San Francisco, a night out on the town that consisted of a ton of alcohol and a bunch of people nerdily arguing over different editions of D&D, or driving to the other side of the state to take in the natural sights.
Nala was always invited. In fact, it was mandatory that she go.
Varen didn’t have any new projects lined up for a good while.
She said she was taking extra time off until Nala started her classes, knowing that she would be spending most of her days studying since she was such a serious person.
Yet when she asked what Nala wanted to focus on and she said, “Coding, so I can be better than you one day,” Varen had to punish her for insubordination.
Found out that night how much this girl likes a sore ass.
Yet the craziest thing wasn’t that they kept up the Dom/sub shenanigans when the mood struck them, or that they were asked to submit official testimony about Xan Ravenwood and his henchmen,
or that Nala felt comfortable dropping thousands of dollars on a shopping spree – to buy more video game equipment she knew Varen needed for her nights off.
No, what she was shocked to find out was that she and Varen would keep up some of the more public qualities of a kinky sex life.
They found another club – a real one – for people like them and tested the waters by doing a trial membership.
There was no pressure for them to do anything in front of anyone.
They could enjoy the other members and their shows without fear of committing themselves to anything they were uncomfortable with.
There were leaders who kept things running smoothly, but they weren’t, well, sociopathic freaks.
Nala was also able to cultivate her own personality that was truer to her, even when Varen latched her Nightingale collar around her neck and told her to grind against her in a private room. She was more than happy to oblige.
They also stayed close with Lucian and Robin, the latter of whom continued to blow up Nala’s phone whenever the mood struck her. In a way, they were best friends now.
“What do you think?” Varen asked, showing a picture on her phone. “That’s the one I did at work yesterday. Think I should post it?”
Nala glanced at the weaving Varen pulled off with a few strings she kept in a drawer in her desk.
Since dating Nala, she had immersed herself in the world of artistic bondage and often practiced during her brief downtimes.
Sometimes, she depicted scenes. Other times they looked like dark spider webs.
This one was a large flower, like a daisy, spiraling out of control.
Sometimes Nala modeled for her. In bed or in a chair, of course. She liked being Varen’s muse.
“Post it. Build that portfolio. You’re gonna do that demonstration at the club… next thing you know? You’re Varen Lake, tech guru and woman who makes art with chicks and ropes!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s a social media account.”
“I keep forgetting you can do that with phones.”
“Sometimes I think you have to be kidding.”
Nala leaned her head against Varen. “I love you. You’re my favorite thirty-year-old.”
She snorted. “I love you too. I could love way worse twenty-one-year-olds.”
“I’m twenty-two now. Excuse you.” What a great birthday. Cake, orgasms, and video games. In that order.
“Ah, yes, huge difference.”
“Like our ages!”
“Would you stop bringing that up? It’s clearly not like that.”
“I’m practicing for what my mother says when she finds out.”
“Your mother?”
“Uh-huh. Now get in the car. It’s a long drive to Nevada from here.”
“We are going to Nevada, huh?”
“Yup. You’re going to meet my mother. Then Fresno so I can meet your mother.”
“Whoa, whoa…”
“Yup! And you’re going to introduce me as your fiancée so she knows how serious it is.”
“Whoa.”
“Relax. I’m not telling you to marry me.” Nala slid off the hood of the car and opened the passenger side door. “Yet. Let me finish school first, cradle robber.”
Sighing, Varen joined her in the car and started the ignition. “The things I do for love.”
“I’ve thought that a lot over the past few months.”
“Me too.”
Nala met her halfway over the front seat of the car for a light kiss. “Look at you. My hardworking, super-hot girlfriend who likes going for my crotch like she’s never gonna get the chance to again. However will I compete in the coding world with you?”
Varen put the car in reverse. “I know. You’ll be spending most of your time in bed, so you won’t be able to.”
“That’s the only advantage you have over me.”
“The only one?”
“Why, yes. I come from a proud line of Nazarov women who kick ass at science and fuck dumbass dominants. It’s just my sister was smarter at the former and I was smarter at the latter.”
Varen pulled her sunglasses on and turned onto the nearest roadway. “This is going to be a very interesting relationship.”
“Would you have it any other way?”
“Nope.”
She hit the gas and took them south. To California? Toward Nevada? Who knew. Furthermore, who cared?
The day was young and Nala was in love without a care in the world. This was what she was meant to do with her life – and it was only getting started.
THE END