He’d awakened me with a blow job again, and I found I was getting
really
used to waking up like that. But I hadn’t let him come from it. Since I’d given him an orgasm the night before and had already seen he was more focused when he was denied, I thought it better to do that. He’d need that focus today to deal with my family.
Turned out, he was nervous about them. Worried they wouldn’t like him, worried about what I’d tell them about our relationship, worried about all manner of things. And he hadn’t wanted to tell me because he felt foolish being worried.
I’d given him the swats for not answering because I’d made sure he understood he had every right to be worried and nervous. I’d made sure he understood, also, that I could and would do everything possible to help him relax. I told him if he’d been more upfront—and answered the question—I’d have given
him
a blow job before we left. I figured at that point, the need to relax superseded the focus.
As it was, he now had a sore ass and hard cock as we drove toward my parents’ house.
I was slightly annoyed with my mother. She’d called that morning to tell me all three of my siblings and their significant others would be at dinner. Apparently she’d told them I was planning to bring Kyle, and they all wanted to meet him. Even Simon, who lived on the other end of the damned country, had decided to fly in and have Christmas with my family so they could meet him.
I was not pleased.
Kyle picked up on it. He kept glancing at me as we drove, picking at his jeans or clasping his hands together or tapping his fingers. “Mal?” he finally asked.
I glanced over at him as I took the exit from the interstate. “Yes, baby?”
“I… uh… I should call you that, right?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure my folks would understand ‘Master’ very well.”
He chuckled and I scored a point for myself. “Probably not. Uh… are you… are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Well, other than—”
“No. And this morning is forgiven, remember? You got your spanking. It’s over.”
“I… you know, uh… when I was young, before they started to ignore me, my parents, well, they’d punish me for something, you know? But they’d still be pissed at me for, like, days after.”
I shook my head. “That’s not cool,” I muttered, annoyed with them all over again. I sincerely hoped I never had to meet them. I suspected my self-control wouldn’t hold my fist back from getting me in trouble. “That’s not how it
should
work. You get in trouble. You deal with punishment, then it’s done.”
He didn’t reply to that except “Oh.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how I work, anyway.” I took a breath and turned to him at the stop light. “I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m annoyed with my parents.”
He blinked at me. “Why?”
I smiled ruefully. When I explained why, his eyes widened. “Oh. Uh… do… should… what….” He closed his eyes and muttered, “Fuck.”
I snickered. “Well, I’d prefer you didn’t fuck all of them. As far as I know, I’m the only male in the house interested in guys.”
He laughed. “And I’m not interested in your sister.”
“Good,” I said, turning back to drive. “It’s not that bad. They can be kind of loud when we’re all together, but otherwise, they’re good, I promise.”
I took the last turn onto my parents’ street, slowing as we approached the cul-de-sac. I spotted a rental SUV in front of the house that was undoubtedly Simon’s. Zoe’s hybrid was parked next to Mom’s identical one. Dad’s truck was behind Simon’s SUV, and Ford’s Ford was behind Mom’s car, leaving the last spot in the driveway for my car. I pulled in, turned off the engine, and shifted in my seat to look at Kyle, who was staring at the floor mats as if the wisdom of the universe was there.
“We have about two minutes before they glue their faces to the window,” I said, and he glanced up at the house. “They’re going to love you. I promise. But—” I waited until he looked at me. “In the end,
I
love you and that’s what matters.”
“But… if they don’t like me—”
“That’s not going to change my feelings about you, baby. But they will. Stay there. Mom’s looking out, and if I don’t open your door, she’ll serve
me
for dinner instead of the ham.”
He laughed, which I was going for, and I climbed out. I saw her look of approval when I opened Kyle’s car door, but I did my best not to show I’d seen. It was a game she liked to play: she pretended she didn’t watch and I pretended I didn’t see her.
I took Kyle’s hand and led him to the steps. “Remember, I love you.”
“I love you too, Mal,” he said as we stepped onto the porch. He gripped my hand hard as I opened the door.
Kyle
AS I
followed Mal into the house, I rubbed my free hand on my jeans to get rid of the sweat, then touched my collar to make sure the lock was still to the back. I tried to calm my pounding heart, sure the entire neighborhood could hear it. Hell, I was pretty sure my parents on the other side of
town
could hear it.
We made it about three steps into the entryway before we were swarmed. A lady who could only be Mal’s mother—judging by the dark hair, dark eyes, and facial structure—hurried out of the room to our right and wrapped Mal in her arms. A few seconds behind her, an older man that I had no doubt was Mal’s father joined us. Mal was the spitting image of his dad, who, while older and not quite as muscular, still made an imposing figure despite the gray hair.
I tried to hide behind Master, but he wouldn’t let me. He let go of his mom and turned to me. “Mom, this is Kyle,” he said, smiling at me. “Kyle, this is my mom and dad.” He waved at each of them.
I focused on Mal’s smile and his hand, letting them calm me. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Tate,” I managed, then turned to his dad. “Mr. Tate.”
“Oh no, no, please, I’m Jane,” she said, and before I realized her intent, she’d hugged me.
I returned it, though I wasn’t used to a demonstrative family by any means. Hugs were things you did in the air. Touch simply wasn’t tolerated. “Uh, okay…, Jane,” I mumbled. That felt wrong in all sorts of ways, but I tried not to let it show.
She let me go and, thankfully, Mal’s dad held a hand out. “Nice to meet you, son. Call me Jesse.”
I had to let go of Mal’s hand to shake, but he put it on the small of my back when I did. “Nice to meet you, sir,” I said and he shook his head.
“Not sir either. Still think my dad’s around if you say that,” he said, and I laughed.
“All right, Jesse,” I said, feeling a little better.
They stepped back and that’s when I noted three more men and three women had come out. I found Mal’s siblings immediately. To a one, they had dark curly hair like he did and matching dark eyes. Two of the guys in front of me were as tall as Mal, though only one was quite as bulky. The other was leaner but still obviously took care of himself.
His sister, on the other hand, was a tiny thing. If she came up to my chin, I’d be surprised. Same dark curly hair, same dark eyes, though, so she was definitely unmistakable.
“Stop staring at him as if he’s a zoo animal,” Mal grumbled from beside me.
The assembled group laughed. “Sorry, man, just still surprised someone finally caught you,” the first guy said, holding his hand out. “I’m Ford, and this is Madison,” he said, tilting his head to the woman next to him. Her tall, slim frame and bright hair made me think of a fall tree. She smiled and shook my hand but didn’t say anything.
“Sorry, Mal,” the second guy, who I assumed was Simon, said. “Simon, and this is Katy, my wife.” The woman to his right didn’t look like she had a kid, but I certainly didn’t know much about that. She came in somewhere under Simon’s shoulder, with blue eyes, short brown hair, and a nice smile. Simon turned to the living room. “Jeff’s sleeping or I’d introduce you. I promise that’s a
good
thing.”
I smiled. “He’s the baby?”
Simon nodded. “Yup. Though… not much of a baby anymore.”
“Way too much trouble for a baby,” the last woman said. “Zoe.” She held her hand out and I shook it. “And this dork is Paul.”
Paul, I was surprised to note, totally pinged my gaydar, despite the almost stereotypical nerd look, with thick glasses, button-down oxford shirt, and khaki pants. I was guessing he was bisexual, based on the look he shot Zoe. I shook his hand, hoping my recognition of his sexuality didn’t show. “Nice to meet you,” he said, smiling.
“Uh, nice to meet everyone,” I said, trying not to let the overwhelmed feeling show on my face.
“All right, everyone out!” Jane called. “We’ve scared him enough.”
“Aw, Mom!” Zoe said, winking at me.
I smiled, watching them herd back into the living room.
“Enough, Zoe Michelle!” She turned back to Mal and me. “Dinner will be in about an hour.”
I glanced at Mal. “I’d, uh, offer to help, but I think there’s a law against me being in a kitchen, considering what I do with food.”
She laughed. “I like him,” she said to Mal, turning to me. “All the more reason to help. Come on, sweetie. Let’s see what I can teach you.” She put her arm around me and I sent a semipanicked look toward Mal, but he just winked and nodded at me.
I swallowed and went with her, following her through the living room and a dining room before stepping into the kitchen. This was quite obviously built for someone who
cooks
. I saw stainless steel appliances—some of which I couldn’t even name—marble countertops, warm wood cabinets, an island, and a hanging rack with pots and pans. “Wow,” I murmured, looking around.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming. “Would you like something to drink? We’ve got coffee brewed, Coke in the fridge, and water in the door.”
“Uh, coffee, thanks.” I probably shouldn’t have the caffeine—it would only make me more jittery—but I wanted the comfort of the taste.
“Sure thing, sweetie. Cups are over there,” she said, pointing at a cabinet above the microwave, the one appliance besides the coffeemaker I absolutely knew. “Help yourself.”
I felt a little weird just opening someone’s cabinets, but I took out a mug and poured some coffee. It smelled divine, dark and rich, and I inhaled before taking a sip. I looked up to see her smiling at me. I blushed.
“Good stuff, isn’t it?”
I nodded, too embarrassed to speak.
“My sister sends it to me from Hawai’i.”
“Oh, it is good.”
She turned to the stove, picked up a spoon, and stirred something in a pot. “So, not much for cooking?”
“Uh, not really. I never got to learn.”
She tsked. “I taught all my kids before they left. They didn’t all want to, especially Simon, but I made sure they could eat more than Ramen and macaroni and cheese.”
I chuckled. “Uh, Ramen is a staple in my kitchen.”
She shook her head. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” She gave me a look that I recognized as one universal to almost all moms, except mine. I blushed again.
“Uh, yes, Jane,” I said and she nodded once.
“Good. Your mother didn’t teach you?” she asked, setting the spoon down and moving over to one of the two ovens set into the wall.
I shook my head. “No, uh, she doesn’t cook either. The housekeeper didn’t let her in the kitchen.”
She looked up at me, raising her eyebrows. “Well, no wonder. Come over here, dear, and let me show you a few things.”
MAL CHECKED
in on me about half an hour later. Jane had gone through the ingredients for the glaze she’d put on the ham, discussed the pros and cons of oven bags, and had me helping her with the sweet potato casserole before he came in. All of this, of course, was peppered with questions about myself, my childhood, my work, and a myriad of other things.
“Are you torturing my boyfriend, Mom?” he asked, coming up behind me and kissing me on the top of my head.
“No, I am not.”
He reached out to take a mini marshmallow, and she rapped his hand with the cooking spoon.
“Hands off,” she said, mildly, like she was used to saying it. I guessed she probably was. “I’m teaching him to cook.”
“I hardly think Christmas dinner is the place to start,” he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes. “Gotta start somewhere.”
“But sweet potato casserole?” he asked, lips twitching.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“How about… bacon and eggs?”
“I burned the bacon,” I reminded him.
He laughed. “Yes, but you did wonderfully on the eggs.”
Jane shook her head. “Shoo. I’m having quality time with Kyle.” She waved her spoon threateningly.
Mal looked at me, lips twitching. “I’ll distract her if you want to make a run for it.”
I grinned. Truthfully, I didn’t mind his mom so much. It was better than trying to deal with a whole group of people. I knew I’d have to soon enough, but for now, this was a lot easier. “I’m okay,” I assured him. “Though… you might want to avoid the sweet potato casserole.” I frowned down at it.
He kissed my temple. “I’m sure it’s fine. I swear, she’s as magical as Molly Weasley in the kitchen.”
“Flatterer. Now get out. We’ll call you in soon,” Jane said, shooing him again.
He held his hands up but leaned in to kiss me quickly, and I blushed bright red. “I’m going!”
I watched him leave, then turned back to the casserole, hoping to cool my cheeks. “Uh…. Is there anything else to do to it?”
I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “No, just goes in the oven, now.”
I picked it up and carried it to the one not occupied by the ham. She showed me how to set the timer after I put it in. As we worked through the mashed potatoes, she told me stories of Mal when he was little, and I soaked it up, listening to all the little bits of him getting into trouble.
“He loves you,” she said abruptly as I was dumping the potatoes into a serving bowl.
I blinked at her. “Mal?” I could feel my face coloring again.
“Yup. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”
I frowned, not sure how to take her tone. I focused instead on scraping the mashed remnants. “We haven’t been together very long,” I finally said softly, voicing the worst of my worry.