“Nice!” Tru called from the couch. “Free show!”
We broke apart, me laughing, Dawson turning an impressive shade of pink all the way up to his ears.
“Cute, huh?” Joker asked Grace as he bounced her on his knee. Grace stared up at him with her grip tight on one of the many wooden toys he’d carved for her, and then turned her big blue eyes to Tru curiously. Tru nodded, then started applauding quietly. “For the show, right, Gracie?”
Grace laughed and started clapping, too, dropping the toy in the process—luckily Joker had another tucked in his jacket’s inner pocket, made apparent when he immediately fished it out.
The back door swung open again, and then Gretel barged in with Logan following behind. She yipped happily and charged to the couch, tail wagging. Grace immediately wriggled out of Joker’s lap, second toy abandoned, and toddled over to Gretel before half-leaning, half-falling into the dog’s side. Gretel, unfazed, sniffed Grace’s head and then licked her face, tail still wagging a mile a minute.
“Oh, come on,” Jonah said with a fondly exasperated sigh. “I feel like I have to wash her face a hundred times a day.”
“It’s good for her immune system,” Tru said seriously.
Everyone’s attention was immediately back on the cute scene at hand, including Dawson’s. He was still a little flushed from the attention, but he looked happy, too—like the teasing had made him feel included, even if he was a little shy. I wanted to see this look on him more. Wanted to fold him into the family I’d found in Hell’s Ankhor—fold him into my life. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the two of us were right at the beginning of something big. Something important. I wrapped my arm around his waist and dropped a rough kiss at his temple.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I murmured quietly, for his ears only.
“Me too,” Dawson said, folding his hand over mine where it rested at his hip.
DAWSON
I was still reeling from the gentleness of Nix’s kiss when he wound his arm around me, almost possessive. Like he was proud to be with me. It was an almost overwhelming sensation. I’d spent so much time feeling alone, or cast aside, or—or second choice. And Nix made me feel like a priority. Like he wanted me as much as I wanted him. It was, embarrassingly, an unfamiliar sensation, but I was quickly getting used to it.
And standing here, in the kitchen of the clubhouse surrounded by laughter and teasing, I felt like maybe I could belong here.
I was feeling more settled these days, and more in control. Nix was no small part of that. I’d taken a break from drinking, proving to myself that it didn’t rule my life, and I’d felt comfortable enough to start spending a night or two a week at Tempest on the edge of town, grateful to escape the quiet stillness of my house and rejoin the company and familiar noise of a bar. The jolly atmosphere of the clubhouse reminded me a lot of that, really—and may now that Nix and I were together, I’d be able to spend more time here as well.
“All right, guys, getting close to eating time,” Dante bellowed over the din, inciting even more noise, this time mostly excited cheers. “Dawson, grab the stuffing out of the lower oven, will you?”
I almost jumped at being involved directly in the preparation—I’d sort of expected Dante to leave that to the members. Being included even in the mundane tasks felt good. I set aside my coffee and shoved on a pair of oven mitts instead, wrestling the huge pan of stuffing out of the oven and moving it to the stove. Dante was quick behind me, pulling out the turkey from the upper oven, to many interested oohs and aahs.
“Thought you were supposed to stuff the bird before cooking it,” I said as Dante washed his hands to start the process.
“A common misconception,” Dante answered with a serious nod. “But the stuffing takes longer than the bird, so if you do them at the same time, the turkey comes out dry.”
“Stuffing the turkey, huh?” Joker called from the couch with a smirk. “Dante’s pretty good at that, from what I’ve heard.”
“Watch it!” Heath said with a laugh, as he chucked a balled-up napkin across the kitchen at Joker. “Kids present!”
“Eh, she’s busy,” Jonah said, nodding at the floor where Grace was climbing all over Gretel.
“Traitor,” Heath teased.
“I’ll be stuffing something tonight,” Tru added coyly, then the smirk fell from his face. “Where’s Beau? Did he hear that?”
Beau stuck his head in from the back deck. “Yeah, I heard,” he said tiredly.
“Any comments?” Tru asked, miming holding a microphone toward the back door.
Beau shook his head and grinned. “Depends on what the stuffing utensil is. Are we talking hands, or—”
“I’m good!” Dante shouted. “TMI!”
Tru dissolved into cackles. This was the other part of the club I’d have to get used to—the openness with the way they talked about each other, and their relationships.
I looked over at Nix, catching his eye with a smile, and saw that he was blushing. Hard.
That surprised me. If anything, I would’ve thought that he was used to his members talking about sex, that it was just part of their lively banter. But Nix looked almost shy, lips pressed together and chin ducked as he looked up at me over the top of his glasses.
Was it the all the jokes? Or was it something else making him uncomfortable?
I couldn’t help but wonder—was he a hard top? Not into bottoming? That didn’t seem to fit who he was, all Zen and easygoing, but guys’ sexual preferences didn’t always match what I expected. Maybe he just wasn’t into it. But now that the question had risen to the forefront of my mind, I couldn’t think about anything else.
Dante shooed me away, summoning Heath to help him with the turkey instead, and I went willingly back to Nix’s side.
Nix was still flushed even as he wrapped an arm around me. I set my mouth close to his ear and murmured, “What’s up? Got you thinking?”
“You could say that,” Nix said, low.
“’Bout what?” I asked, still quiet enough that no one else could hear. “Me? My hands? Letting me do that to you?”
“Maybe,” Nix said. “Never done it before, though.”
I paused. And then heat rushed through me, sudden and molten. “Never?”
Nix shrugged, blushing a little harder.
“But you want to?” I asked. I almost couldn’t believe it.
“With you, yeah,” Nix said.
My dick stirred in my jeans. God, I had to get a handle on this, or else I was going to get fully hard standing in the kitchen with a bunch of dudes talking about stuffing a turkey. But this was overwhelming information. Nix had really never been fucked before—and he wanted me to fuck him.
Possessiveness ran through me, too. I wanted to be his first. And maybe, somehow, if I was really lucky—his only.
“Quit looking at me like that,” Nix said fondly, then bit his lower lip.
“Can’t help it. I’m distracted now.” I tugged him to face me, then kissed him, a brief, intense kiss like a promise.
“Stop canoodling in the kitchen, please,” Heath said.