Epilogue #2
Chase moves the sheet away from my naked body.
If I didn’t want to wake up and satisfy my husband’s morning wood, I probably should’ve gotten dressed after last night’s escapades, but since I’m beginning to squirm in need as he kisses his way down to my pussy…
yeah. Sleeping naked next to Chase Knight? Brilliant move, Holden.
Chase is a generous lover. He always has been. I can tell that he’s decided this morning will be a complete seduction to make up for his earlier tease, and while I’m normally into that, I’m craving something different.
So, after only a few swipes of his tongue that has me digging my fingers into the mattress, I brace my foot against his shoulder and shove just enough to be noticeable.
Eyes heavy-lidded, lips already shiny with my juices, he looks up at me.
“Get up.”
“Babe?”
Another nudge with my toes. “On your knees, Chase.”
My husband knows better than to refuse a direct order from me. Bracing his hands on my open thighs, he goes from lying flat on his belly to resting on his knees. His erection bobs up, winking “hello” at me, and I dart out my tongue, dabbing at my bottom lip.
I’m sure he thinks that he’s getting a little head. And, most mornings, he would. But after the way he teased my pussy and sucked on my boob… I’ve had enough foreplay. I scramble so that I’m also on my knees, then push his shoulder, guiding him to lie down across the mattress.
His cock is pointing right at the ceiling.
I give it a quick stroke, another giggle escaping me as Chase’s eyes flutter closed in arousal, before I release him long enough to climb over him.
Straddling his delicious-looking body, I’ve already got the head of his cock lodged inside of my heat before his eyes pop open, surprise flashing across his gorgeous face for all of half a second before a slow, filthy grin appears.
“Well, hello, Mrs. Knight.”
I sink further down on top of him. “Hush.”
His hands go to my hips, helping me take his cock. “Did you just hush me?”
“What was it you said? ‘Just lie there’? ‘I’ll be done in a minute’?”
His voice drops an octave as our groins go flush, every last inch of him nestled inside of me. “I also said I’d make it good for you.”
I begin to rock in place, slowly riding him. “Yes, you did.”
His hands were on my hips. Now he’s moving them so that he can cup my tits.
I catch his wrists and, leaning over him while still fucking him, I press his hands into the mattress beside his head.
We both know he can reverse our positions before I have time to blink.
Chase is way stronger than me, and neither one of us has ever pretended otherwise.
We’re both kick ass zombie hunters, but actual physical strength? He has me beat.
But he doesn’t move, not when I release his hands or when I pull myself up, arching my back as I play with my own tits for him. Why would he? Having him trapped beneath me, my pussy squeezing his length as I swivel my hips… this is exactly where my husband has always wanted to be.
“And I’ll make it good for you,” I promise. “But let me just say it’s my turn.”
His blue eyes darken to the point they’re nearly black. “Your turn to what?”
“To make my husband mine whenever I get the chance.”
His earlier teasing expression disappears from his face as pure earnestness replaces it. “Already yours, baby.”
True, but it doesn’t hurt to show him how much I want him, I need him, I love him… and as I fuck the one man who is everything to me, that’s exactly what I do.
By the time I finally manage to drag myself off of my husband and out of our bed, I’m panicking a little.
Morning sex is all good and fun, but when you forgot you had a meeting with the head of the Grave early this morning, only remembering after you had your husband moaning your name as he fills you with come…
shit. It doesn’t matter that Jack Holden is my Dad.
He’s the community leader, and he’s probably wondering what the hell happened to us.
Because we’re late. Not might be late. Not if we don’t hurry now late.
We’re already super fucking late, and the man responsible for that is still stretched naked across our bed with one arm tucked behind his head, watching me search for last night’s clothes scattered on the floor with the sort of satisfied smile that makes me want to throw something at him.
After I gather up my clothes, I settle for Chase’s shirt and fling it.
He catches it before it hits his face leaving me to roll my eyes as his smile widens.
“My father is waiting for us,” I remind him for the third time.
“I know.”
“And he’s not the only one who’s gonna be there.”
Chase nods, still grinning at me.
I already got my panties on. I stop with one leg in my jeans and glare at him. “Then why the hell are you smiling like the cat that ate the fucking canary? Get dressed.”
Even as he begins to climb out of the bed, his smile only gets worse. He doesn’t have to answer me. We both know why he’s smiling, which is exactly the problem I’m currently dealing with.
“Chase.”
“Yes, my heart?”
I growl. “My father is going to know.”
He chuckles, pulling his shirt on over his head. “Jack already knows we have sex, Holden. I doubt he thought we waited until marriage, but even if we did, it’s been nine months. We fuck, babe. It’s okay.”
Yeah, but not if he’s left waiting because I spent too long edging my husband before letting him come…
“Look. There’s knowing, and then there’s getting a peek at your smug face and knowing.”
“Sorry, but I can’t help it. I want the entire Grave to know that you’re my wife.”
“Trust me, Chase, they do. Now put your damn clothes on.”
By the time we’re leaving our place, we’re almost half an hour late, and I’m pretty sure at least five of those minutes are because Chase decided that “helping” me get dressed was another opportunity to put his hands on me—and I fell for it just as I fell into his arms before I pushed him away and ran for my sneakers.
I’m still swatting one of his hands away from my ass when we leave through the front and find Jack Holden standing on the sidewalk, his arms crossed and his expression more bemused than annoyed.
The Knights’ two-story home is across the street from the entrance to Madison High. We were supposed to meet Dad at the school, but he must’ve realized we were running behind and came to meet us here.
And, yes, the slightly discomfitted look in his eyes tells me he knows precisely why we’re late.
“Ready?” he grunts.
Chase finally loses his grin. “Sorry about being late, Jack. It was my fault.”
He sniffs, a hint of a curve to his lips. As happy as Dad is to have me back, he’s just as glad that I found my way to Chase again. “I’m sure it was. Now come on. Let’s go.”
Dad turns to cross Grove, heading toward the high school.
Chase reaches for my hand as we follow him, threading his fingers through mine without thinking about it.
Or maybe he does think about it. With Chase Knight, it’s hard to tell.
He spent so long afraid that, if he let go of me, he’d lose me again that touching me became almost as important as breathing to him.
I don’t mind, and I squeeze his fingers in reassurance.
We’re not the only ones who have changed.
The Grave doesn’t look the same way it did nine months ago.
Sure, the school is still the center of everything because it has the space for meetings, storage, meals, and emergencies, but fewer people use it for shelter.
While we were gone—and in the time since—we’ve taken back more of the neighborhood.
Houses that sat empty beyond the initial borders have been cleared, repaired, and filled again as our walls have moved.
Now, a few blocks in nine months doesn’t sound like much until you know what it takes to reclaim one. Every house has to be searched from basement to attic. Every dark room has to be entered without knowing what’s waiting for you inside.
Lurkers have to be eliminated.
As survivors, we used to measure success in days. Now we measure it in territory—and we’re not the only ones.
Veronica’s camp is growing, too. Maverick stayed there after what happened in Manhattan, and I’m glad. I don’t know what’s going on between him and Veronica, but with the loss of both Lindsay and Delilah, they definitely need each other.
We’re keeping in touch with them and the survivors of Camp Sunnyside. Veronica gave us one of the satellite phones when Chase and I headed home. Well… technically, she meant for Jack to have it, but we were the ones who brought it to him.
That phone has changed everything for the Grave.
Even before the Turning, Veronica had spent years building connections with people who knew how to disappear, move unnoticed, and survive.
Once the main Project Phoenix operation at the NRI was destroyed and we no longer had to worry about them hunting us, she turned that network of hers outward.
Her people found settlements in New York and Pennsylvania, then farther north into Connecticut and Massachusetts.
Those settlements knew about others and, suddenly, communities that spent a year believing they were alone discovered there were hundreds, thousands of people doing exactly what they were doing.
Surviving.
Now, through the courtesy of runners and the sat phones, we’re talking.
Maps mean something different after the Turning.
The state lines are still there, I suppose, but nobody gives a shit where New Jersey ends and New York begins when half the roads are impassable and rogues in the Outside stick to the trees.
The important lines are those the survivors are creating for ourselves, and the knowledge that we’re sharing.
We know which roads are safe. Which water isn’t. Where there’s a bridge worth taking, and settlements you can trust. Oh, and where there is a lurker nest that needs eliminating…