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"I am so cutting you off there!" I state, covering my face with my palms. "Please, please stop talking."
Toni laughs. Having successfully embarrassed me, he casually sips his bright green Martini. I step out from the kitchen and around the island bench. Leaning into Toni a little, I watch the youngest and sweetest Butcher chuckle to himself as he searches for some candles. "I suppose I can't really complain. Get a few drinks in me and I've been known to have a pretty filthy. . .Ah-" He turns and places a box of candles on the breakfast bar. "There ya go. You know you can get the maids to do this stuff, don't you? I don't think any woman besides them has been in this kitchen in years."
"A filthy what? A filthy what?" Toni bounces on the black and chrome bar stool.
Xander leans over the counter, his blue eyes narrowing, his lips curling up on one side. "Mouth."
Toni nearly falls off his stool as he flings the back of his hand to his forehead. "Get this man a few drinks, asap!"
Laughing so hard, I am quickly brought to tears.
As we all chuckle together, Stacey and my sister strut in, dressed in a couple's costume: O Ren and Gogo fromKill Bill. Stacey has her dark-brown hair pulled into a tight Japanese bun, her fringe swept to the side and pinned back with a white flower to match her kimono. Flick is dressed in her old preppy high school uniform, complete with blue blazer and all. She was ecstatic to discover she still fits into it. With white stockings folded neatly below her knees, a pleated skirt, and white dress shirt, she looks the part and fricking gorgeous. With the long black wig and bangs, her face looks even paler than usual, emphasising Gogo's emotional void.
"You two look so hot!" I grin at my sister, who is still a little uncomfortable with everything that's happening. She still needs more time to accept that I really am happy. That Max isn't a bad person, he just sometimes misdirects his anger. And when it comes to me, he has no filter.
She smiles back at me. "You, my little love, are glowing. . . I wonder why?"
I giggle. "It's the glitter."
"Yeah, that's all it is," Toni quips.
"Has anyone seen Bronson?" I ask, peering out and through the crowd. They shake their heads. "What about Max?" They glance at each other sideways before shaking their heads again. I frown at my friends and sister. "They are party poopers; I'm going to find them."
Moving through the ocean of guests, my wings offering me a wide breadth, I search the house.
At the end of the hall, I swing the entertainment room doors open and, oh my God, Betty Boop is being nailed from behind by the Mad Hatter.
She is slung over the billiard table, her head arched back, her breasts stroking the green cloth as Bronson, dressed as The Mad Hatter, thrusts into her hard and fast and ruthless. He's got one white-knuckled grip on her hip; his other is in her hair, the strands tightly coiled in his fist. Her mouth is wide open, alternating between panting and yelping after every slap of his hips to her curvaceous backside. My mouth drops open just as Bronson turns his head and notices me.
"Sister Cassidy!" He grins, moving faster. "This is Laura. Say hello, Laura."
She growls. "Fuck, Bronson." A sound that is both exasperated and on the brink of climax falls from her agape lips.
"I am fucking you, sweetheart," he says, just pummelling her harder. He looks at me. "You okay? Need anything?"
"Oh mygawd." I rush from the room, unable to stop the blush engulfing my cheeks. Heismad. No costume is needed to show that. Mad and amazing and lovable. I laugh to myself; I'm not sure why. I think I'm happy to see him with someone.
As I move back down the hallway, I feel the surrealism of this moment seep into me. I can't believe that I am here. That these boys are my family. That Max chose me. I touch my belly, smiling as I head back into the kitchen.
When I enter, I feel my skin start to simmer. The heat from a pair of eyes on me strokes my flesh to the point of scolding. Of fever. And only one set of eyes can do that. I search the room, glancing over small groups of people before landing on Max.
He's in a black V-neck and jeans, the kind of casual attire he would wear if the house was empty of visitors. The sleeves of his shirt bunch above his elbows, banding tightly around his strong biceps and showcasing defined, inked forearms.
I breathe faster as he tracks my movements. He leans his head to the side, lapping up the stilettos, the fitted jeans, the wings, and all the shimmer.
When I stop in front of him, his slow menacing grin all but sweeps my legs out from under me. My belly flutters. I know what that man is thinking. His eyes have a promise. A dare. One I will be eagerly accepting. That gaze makes me blush so hard even the butterflies in my belly have bright crimson cheeks.
"You don’t have a costume on," I manage to say.
His eyes narrow on mine. "Yeah I do." He points to a white sticker on his jeans. Written on it in black Sharpie is 'God'. He'smyGod, there is no doubt about that. "I plan on fucking one of my angels tonight."
My whole world shines. "We have a couples costume on!"
Shaking his head, he lets out a soft chuckle; it's the best sound in the whole world. A breath-taking sound that is as rare as it is meaningful. "Only you."
Slowly, I take another step towards him until I can feel the heat from his body. "Only me what?"
He drinks me in, and when I lower my eyes to his hands, I see his fingers massaging his palms, wanting to grip me, anxious to do so. Craning my neck, I kiss his chin softly. But he lowers his head, taking my mouth hard and hungrily. We kiss and pet each other, fondle and ignore the other guests as they move around us.
