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“Anyway, I’m hoping to score a little godson real soon,” I say, and we both laugh.
“It smells real good in here, ladies.”
Pocus walks into the kitchen, sniffing the air with a delighted smile. I watch Abigail’s eyes light up like always when my brother walks into the room. She isn’t even aware of how much brighter she is when she sets her eyes on him. The same goes for Pocus; they always become so instantly lost in each other that everyone else in the room might as well be insignificant.
“Tu m’a manqué, mon coeur,” Pocus says, stopping directly in front of Abigail. He leans forward and places a lingering kiss on her lips.
Abigail laughs, the rosy color in her cheeks deepening significantly. “What does that mean?” she asks, looking deep into his eyes.
“I missed you,” Pocus translates, but he might as well be saying it all over again.
Abigail slips her hand around his neck and presses herself against his body. She raises herself on tiptoes and captures his lips in a slow passionate kiss.
She pulls back after a few seconds, but Pocus’s arm around her waist tightens, holding her in place. “You’ve got a way of conveying your feelings, ma petite,” he says, smiling lovingly into her eyes. “Now you’ve got me feeling some kind of way.” His eyes roam her face with a suggestive expression, not bothering to hide the staggering desire in his eyes. “What do you say we ditch this party?” He nips at her lips with a small moan. “...for something more…uh…mm” he kisses the tip of her nose and smiles softly down at her. “...private? I can really express how much I missed you then.”
“Gosh, get a room guys, will you?” Graveyard says dryly, effectively stomping on the sexually charged tension between the two lovers.
Abigail blushes harder and hides her head in Pocus’ chest while he laughs and wraps his arms protectively around her shoulders.
Graveyard walks further into the kitchen, rolling his eyes playfully at the lovey-dovey couple. He goes over to the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water. “I don’t even sleep well at night these days because of you lot,” he grumbles, unscrewing the bottle cap.
I suddenly feel my heart skip excitedly at the familiar stomping sound of boots getting closer. I’d recognize those footsteps even in my dreams. My unconscious smile tugs at my lips at the sight of the tall, handsome man with playful blue eyes that’s since dominated my body and soul. He’s followed closely by Hex, Gumbo, Blight, Crab, Tomb, and Sage, but all of my attention is fixated on Knix alone.
He comes to stand beside me, his strong arm snaking around my waist. “Hey, baby,” he greets, smiling down at me.
“How was the ride?” I ask, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Invigorating,” Knix replies without taking his eyes off mine. “You know it’s been a while since the Ruthless Kings rode in formation. We fucking dominated the streets.”
I chuckle quietly at the boyish excitement on his face. “Happy birthday, love,” I say quietly.
Knix wraps his other arm around my waist and pulls me flush against the hard length of his body. “There are so many ways you could wish me a happy birthday, you know,” he says, smiling suggestively while not so subtly caressing my ass.
It’s only been a few hours since we were last together, but I instantly crave the feel of his long hard dick plunging inside me. Hard and fast.
“What ways?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
He swoops in and captures my lips in a not-so-gentle kiss that instantly sets my body on fire.
“Life is so unfair,” Hex whines playfully. “Where do I find a woman to hold and call my own?”
“Cassandra is yours, mate,” Frenchie says with a loud snicker. “You just can’t hold her.”
Everyone bursts into laughter. Hex shows Frenchie the middle finger despite the laughter dancing around in his eyes.
A familiar feeling of contentment settles in my stomach, looking at the faces of the people in the room. Regardless of our personal struggles as individuals, there are moments like this where we share the joy in the smallest things and create little memories that keep us going even when things get tough. We’ve got each other, and that’s all that matters. Life couldn’t be any better.
In this moment, I feel like the luckiest person on earth. I’ve got everything I’ve always wished for. Family. Love. I’ve definitely come a long way from that little hungry girl, half frozen to death on the streets of New Orleans with only a thin, ragged blanket as a shield from the cold harsh breeze and the shadows lurking in the dark. The one constant thing is the fact that Pocus was, and still is, my guardian angel.
I couldn’t ask for a better older brother.
EPILOGUE
Pocus
One Year Later
Iglance up at the huge sign of the crucifix above the wide doorway. I mutter a quick prayer of thanks to whichever celestial being is on duty, ignoring the pointed glare of the carved Jesus that seems especially aimed at me. I decide to ignore the cross altogether. It’s a happy day – the happiest of all my existence yet. So, I take my eyes off the disapproving image of Jesus on the cross and keep them focused on the doorway, beyond the rows of long wooden pews occupied by tall, rugged men dressed in leather cuts and boots. I swallow down the knot of anxiety in my throat and focus on the thrills of excitement running through my veins.
