out of our hold and standing up straight, brushing down her dress as if she’d just finished the biggest performance of her life.
“What the fuck?” Thomas stage-whispers behind us.
“That’s what I wanna know,” Jonathan asks, standing in front of us with his hands on his hips, glaring at his wife. “Tell me you didn’t just fake labor to get us out of your parents’ Christmas party.”
Callie at least pretends to look guilty, considering she probably stole ten years off her husband’s life when she announced she was going to have their baby early. “It was getting boring and Cade needed an out,” she says with a shrug. “So I gave him one.”
I gape at her, not sure whether to throttle the woman or kiss her.
Cam butts in before I can say anything. “You’re a fucking genius, Cal. I honestly thought I was about to become an uncle.”
Abi sidles up next to me, and still flabbergasted by the events of the past ten minutes, I wrap my arm around her shoulders, struggling to get my head around it all.
“Oh come on, baby, none of us wanted to be there. We only came to watch Cade get his own back on Cade Senior and Annabel. Now that’s done, we can go get drunk!” Cal proclaims.
“Um . . . sorry to be a wet fish, Cal, but um . . . you’re pregnant,” Cam says, nodding at our sister’s stomach.
“Well, yeah . . .” Callie replies in a ‘duh’ voice, “I was meaning you guys. We’ve got a night without parents and you lot . . .” she says, pointing to the group of us as a whole, “don’t have kids to get home to anytime soon—if at all—so let’s bust this joint and go have some real fun.”
“She’s right, you know,” Abi says, giving me a squeeze. “It’s Christmas, and we’re free from the Carsen family bullshit, once and for all—so let’s go have some fun. Hey, let’s go crash Matt and Mia’s place. They’ll probably be doing some lovey-dovey shit.”
“Oh, christening their new dining room table,” Dani pipes up from the back.
“Eww,” Zander, Zoe, and Noah reply in unison.
“Right, then. We’ve got a plan. Cock-blocking Matt, celebrating Callie’s fake labor performance, and—most importantly—spending the holidays with those who mean the most to us. Hasta la vista, Castle de Carsen,” Abi says with a grin, shooting a mock salute at my parents’ house before lifting up on her toes and planting a big wet kiss on my lips.
“What was that for?” I ask, my hands resting on her hips.
“For being you. For loving me, and finally, for laying down that rather fucking epic parting line about reputations. The only thing that would’ve been better would’ve been telling your father to suck it.”
“One must have decorum at these events,” I say in a mock stuck-up voice.
“Fuck ’em,” Abi retorts with a grin.
“Exactly. Fuck ’em,” I say, gliding my hands down to her ass, lifting her up and laying a hot and heavy one on her, on my parents’ steps, in front my family and friends, without a care in the world. One could say it was my final ‘fuck you’ to my past life, ending it in the same way I was starting my new one.
With my tongue down Abi’s throat.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
The End
But wait.
You didn’t think I’d leave you without an epilogue, did you . . . ?
Mile-high sex. Up there on the top of my dirty bucket list and right now, all eight inches of Cade is making the wet dream a reality.
“Fuck this is tight.”
“The bathroom or my—” I don’t get anything more out because his mouth is back on mine and my Kegels are clenching round his cock.
Wait! That’s so not a sexy analogy right now, but I’m too far gone to care.
His lips on mine, his tongue waging war in my mouth, and his beautiful member making music between my legs is all I need to get me. Right. Almost . . . right . . . wait . . . there.
He buries his face in my neck and sinks his teeth into my skin, planting himself deep and literally pouring himself into me.
“Shit. Cramp. Cramp. Ow!” I shriek, trapped between the unforgiving toilet digging into my backside and my man pinning me to it.
“Fuck,” he grinds out as I twist and turn, trying to achieve the impossible feat of straightening my bent leg without unmanning him in the process.
“Ow. Ow.” I’m crying