Epilogue Juliette
WHIPS AND CHAINS EXCITE ME
“Have you given the harpies their offering yet?” I ask before I’m even through the motel room door yet.
The rain outside is a deluge, flooding the parking lot.
Thunder cracks directly overhead, making Scotty run out of the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was in the shower.
His bewildered eyes find mine and he lets out a deep sigh of relief.
“One of these days, you’re going to have to stop being so skittish about thunderstorms. You’re a grown man,” I say as I hang up my oversized hoodie on the wall hook.
Scotty lets out an irritated grumble and moves forward to sweep me into a tight embrace. He always gives the best hugs.
“You’re afraid of the television,” he mutters, then brushes his lips against the shell of my ear. “So don’t even start with me, missy.”
I pull away to arch a brow at him. “That demonic box? I have every right to be afraid of it. It plays the most gods-awful things on it. One night there was a woman being eaten by a kraken! Why show such a thing? As if the world is not dark enough, then you place boxes like this in everyone’s living quarters. No wonder society is so depraved and—”
Scotty presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Okay, okay. I get it. No need to go all Satanic panic. It’s not even eight. It’s too early for that.”
“Hmph!” I stalk off to the bathroom to throw cold water on my face. “Satanic panic, my ass. What a thing to say,” I grumble to myself. “Not only that, but I’ve seen Hell with my own eyes, and it looks better than most of the caca on television—"
“Jules!” Scotty calls from the other room. “Come out here. I want to show you something.”
I towel my face off quickly, then leave the bathroom. “And you didn’t answer me about the harpies. They’ll want their offering of chicken legs before the end of the nigh—”
My throat hitches at the sight of Scotty, lying in the middle of the bed surrounded by … chains? Whips? And other … torture devices? I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing at all. Scotty lets out a chuckle and gestures to the flogger by his bare thigh.
“I thought maybe you’d like to check out my new and improved toy collection. There’s a store in town filled with these things. What do you think?” he asks.
Finally, my voice decides to work again. “What do I think? I think calling these ‘toys’ is insane,” I say. “But besides that… we don’t have money. How did you collect these?” My eyes widen. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t enthrall a shifter! Putain, you’re going to get us in trouble!”
“No! Of course not. I traded some deer to a nice bear shifter. She was grateful she wouldn’t have to hunt for the next… oh, I don’t know… two years? Packed her fridge full of venison so she let me have some stuff she was looking to get rid of, anyway.”
I narrow my eyes at him, unconvinced.
Scotty’s smile fades, and he pats the bed. “Jules. Come here. Let me explain, at least.”
Fine. I take a few steps toward the bed but don’t crawl up onto it like I normally would for sleep.
Instead, I stare down at the objects on the mattress.
The shiny metal of the chains catches my attention first. Instinctively, I reach out to touch the grooves of the cool chains, and a shiver runs down my spine and into my fingertips.
Now all I can think about is being bound and gagged on the bed while Scotty does whatever he wants with me.
A large part of me wants me to head toward the door and disappear into the storm. But a smaller part of me, a curious part, wants to know where he’s going with all of this. I trust Scotty completely. He’s my person. So there isn’t a single part of my soul that believes he’d do anything to harm me.
“Jules?” his voice interrupts my thoughts, and I jerk my head up to meet his gaze. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours? I can tell you’re lost in thought.”
“Why the chains? What are they for?” I ask, brow raised.
Scotty offers a small smirk and picks up the chain, then gives it a little jangle. The sound it makes is pleasant to my ears. “Sometimes I like to restrain women during sex. Sometimes I like it when they restrain me, instead. Depends on the mood.”
“Restrain during sex,” I repeat like a parrot, then shake my head in disbelief. “And what about this one?” I point to what looks like a horse’s riding crop. “I didn’t know you were into horseback riding.”
Scotty bursts into laughter so violently he holds his abs as he writhes around on the bed. “N-No. No, Jules. That’s … that’s not for horses.”
Blood tears streak his cheeks, and I puff out mine. “You don’t have to laugh at me. Just explain it.”
He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, then pulls me in close.
I run my fingers through his hair as he looks up at me with a fangy, boyish grin.
Nothing ever seems to phase him. We’re living out of a motel in the middle of the woods and indentured to a bunch of bear shifters and still nothing seems to bother my Scotty or dim his spark.
Merde. I love this man. So, so much.
“Yes, it’s a riding crop. But you don’t use it on horses.
It’s for impact play,” he explains. I blink slowly, still not quite following him.
“You can hit each other with it. Like on this cute little butt of yours,” he teases as he grabs onto both of my butt cheeks.
I gasp when his fingernails dig into the fabric of my leggings and press into my tender flesh.
“See? You already like a little bit of pain, don’t you? ”
My brows knit together. “What kind of question is that? Do I like pain? We’re vampires. We’re all accustomed to it, one way or another.”
“Yeah. We’re accustomed to it, but I think you might enjoy it,” he says, jiggling my butt cheeks in his palms.
Then, before I have a chance to think or say anything, Scotty grabs me and swings me onto his lap, face down. His palm smacks across one of my cheeks lightly. It doesn’t hurt, not even a little bit, but it does feel … stupid.
“Putain! You strike me like a naughty child!” I protest, and kick my feet wildly behind me. This only makes Scotty howl with laughter.
“Yeah, I did. What are you going to do about it?” he taunts.
I roll off his lap onto the ground and jump to my feet. My eyes immediately find the handcuffs on the bed.
I grab them so fast my hands are a blur. I cuff Scotty’s wrists to the bedframe, and he lets out a moan of frustration once he realizes he’s fastened in place. His eyes darken to a pair of crimson orbs, and he licks his bottom lip suggestively.
“That,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’m going to do that.”
Scotty snorts. “Okay, fine. You win. Did not see that coming.”
“I’m older than you,” I mutter, as though it were obvious. “It’s to be expected.”
Scotty arches a brow at me. “What is?”
“That you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me. Now, lie there like a good boy while I edge you into oblivion.”
Edge him into oblivion. What on earth am I thinking?
I can’t believe I said those words, let alone thought them.
But Scotty’s expression twists into something feral, the tips of his fangs poking out from under his blood-soaked lips.
His face is stained in his own bloody tears, in fact, from laughing moments ago.
He won’t be laughing for much longer, I’m afraid.