Which, of course, led to thoughts of Darren bare-assed and spread over my knee as I administered one heck of a spanking. I don’t know why I automatically went there when thinking corporal punishment. It was unfortunate, given that apparently the idea of such a thing was very amenable to me, seeing as how I found myself dry-mouthed and on the verge of getting hard.
It didn’t help that Darren, in his tight dress pants and green button-down with the sleeves rolled up, finished off with a black silk tie that I thought would look great wrapped around his wrists and tied to my bedposts, looked like pretty much every fantasy I’d ever begrudgingly had about him. He looked strong and sexy as fuck, and I hated every single goddamn inch of him for making me think so. And I resolutely didn’t focus on his thighs, no matter what kind of a kink he supposedly thought I had for them.
“Hey,” he said, grin widening like he knew exactly what was going through my head. He stepped right in front of me, slightly crowding me against the door like he had any right to. He leaned in and placed a lingering kiss at the corner of my mouth that I might or might not have reciprocated (for science! Or keeping up with the charade! I had no fucking clue anymore!). He broke the kiss and dragged his nose along my cheek. “You look… good,” he breathed in my ear, bringing with it the reminder this was the closest we’d been to each other since he’d undressed me in the Queen’s Lair and then had followed it up with stupid and confusing words that I found were easier to ignore rather than dissect.
“Thanks,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat and tried again, dropping my voice. “Thanks.” That came out sounding like I’d smoked six packs a day for forty years.
That smirk only grew.
But before I could get any kind of revenge (a knee to the balls came to mind), he stepped away from me and said, “Sandy. This is my mom, Sherry. Mom, this is Sandy.”
I apparently didn’t know what to expect, and it was only when I saw her for the first time that I realized I’d never seen so much as a picture of her before.
Sherry Mayne was a diminutive woman, barely above five feet, which was slightly hysterical given the size of her son. Like Darren, she was lightly colored, with beautiful shots of gray lined through her hair. She was wonderfully curved, to the point where she could be considered plump, but looked as strong as anything. I knew she was a nurse, so it was probably a safe bet she could kick my ass any day of the week.
She was really rather beautiful, despite her age. Maybe even because of it. Her bright eyes were on me and I knew this was the only chance I had to make a first impression, so I steeled myself, got ready to gush and compliment her on everything. But then, of course, I got distracted by what she was wearing and instead said, “Oh my god, I have that same skirt. I wear it when I do my naughty schoolgirl routine at Jack It. It brings all the boys to my yard.”
Darren turned slowly to stare at me.
“Wow,” I said, immediately regretting my existence. “That was really awkward. I’m not saying you’re a naughty schoolgirl who dances for money from adoring men like I do. Oh shit, did that make me sound like a stripper? I think that made me sound like a stripper. Holy fuck, I swear to god I’m not a stripper. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! It’s just not for me. I don’t even know any strippers. Okay. That was a lie. There’s a gay strip club in Phoenix called Dick’s that I’ve been to. Multiple times. I know, like, everyone there. But I haven’t stripped. No. I don’t see the point in full nudity on stage. I’m okay with partial nudity, though. I mean, you have to be, right? When you’re performing on stage for money. But not for stripping! I’m a drag queen! I believe Darren might have mentioned that?” I glanced at Darren to save me, but he was still staring at me, jaw dropped, offering nothing in the way of rescue, that asshole. I looked back at his mother. “Well, I am! So. That’s… why I dance for men and money. God, I really wish I would stop saying it like that. I don’t just dance. I lip-synch too. For men. And money. But your skirt! I have that one. Except mine is shorter. Like, shorter. Like, any shorter and it’d probably be considered full frontal. Not that that’s legal at Jack It, ha-ha-ha. Which, I mean, usually isn’t a problem.” My eyes went wide. “Not that we do anything illega
l at Jack It! No. No, no, no. Nothing illegal at all. Why, that would just be crazy.” To show her how crazy it would be, I laughed. Crazily. “Darren here would never allow any illegality. He’s such an upstanding citizen. So… pure and innocent and upstanding. You did good, so. You know. Good job. On that. And in case you’re wondering, no, I absolutely do not do bathroom crack, no matter what Darren might say. Because he’s a liar and fat mouth. But I assume he got that from his father. Not from you. And I really wish I hadn’t brought up his father right now. Because awkward. So. To recap. No bathroom crack, we don’t do anything illegal, I’m not a stripper even though I dance and men give me money, and we have very similar tastes, even though mine tend to be a bit more… slutty.”
Sherry turned to her son and said, “Okay. You weren’t kidding.”
“Kidding about what?” I asked, glaring at Darren.
“Just about how you’re the light of my life,” Darren said easily, pushing me out of the way and letting his mother into the house like he lived there, what the hell. “And also that you would be nervous and would probably ramble a little bit. I just didn’t think it would go that far that quickly.”
“I’m not nervous,” I retorted. “And I don’t ramble.”
“Oh, so you always sound half-crazed?” Sherry asked me.
I gaped at her because now I knew where Darren got his attitude from. It was apparently genetic, which meant there was no hope for him.
“It’s okay,” she said, reaching up and patting me on the shoulder. “I was prepared for it. It was really rather breathtaking.” She then moved around me, walking around the living room, looking at anything and everything she could lay her eyes on. I couldn’t tell if she was liking what she saw or judging me completely. I prayed for the former and expected the latter.
As she moved through my house, I stepped closer to Darren. “You told her I ramble?” I hissed at him.
He arched an unfairly attractive eyebrow at me. “Of course. Because you do. I blame Paul. Or, I blame you for doing it to him. It’s kind of your thing, the both of you. If you’re not prepared for it, it can be kind of scary.”
“I’ll have you know that every word I say is well thought out and on point.”
“You basically told my mother she dresses like a drag queen stripper.”
“I’m not a stripper.”
“I never would have guessed,” he whispered back, bumping his shoulder against mine, and there it went again, that fucking flutter in my heart like I was swooning. “But you also told her you didn’t do bathroom crack. Like she needed to know that.”
“I don’t do bathroom crack! And you said it first! I wouldn’t have even thought about that if you hadn’t said it in the first place. So technically, this is all your fault. As usual. Why don’t you think before you speak?”
“Aw, boo,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I’d known you hung on to every single word I say, I’d have censored myself a little bit more.”
I sputtered brilliantly at him.
“Look at you,” Sherry called from the other side of the room. “Whispering quietly to each other like you’re the only ones in the room. Ah, young love. It’s adorable. Also, Sandy—can I call you Sandy?—I must admit to being slightly disappointed. I thought the house of a drag queen would be decorated a bit more… loudly.”
“Yes, sorry,” I said, unable to stop the snark. “I just got rid of the bedazzled couch and shag carpet last week. I also sent the go-go dancers on vacation for the holidays. Bummer on the timing. Usually it’s feather boas and unnecessary nudity in Casa de Sandy.”