“She’s not mine. She just showed up, but she does seem a tad unhappy with you,” he says, frowning.
“That’s an understatement. What do you want me to do?” I ask, wanting to forget the annoying cat. “Go ahead and brown the hamburger while I finish the crust,” he says, turning back to the counter.
“Are we making homemade pizzas?” I laugh.
“Yeah, it seemed fitting,” he says with a wink. I smile, feeling warm inside.
“You always did have a great memory,” I murmur, getting the hamburger out of a surprisingly stocked fridge. I find a skillet in the cabinet and get to work browning the hamburger. Bryant and I made pizzas together on our first date. It’s probably one of my favorite memories. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that damn cat wrapped around Bryant’s leg. “And that cat might not have been yours, but I think she claimed you.”
“She’s just lonely,” he defends, as I shake my head.
“I tried to pet her, and she tried to claw my eyes out. She’s a woman who found her man and doesn’t want to let him go,” I mutter, using my spoon to separate the meat. He doesn’t reply and I smile, figuring that means I won the argument. “So tell me, besides homemade pizzas, what else do you have planned for tonight, Mr. Matthews?”
“Well, we may not have Wi-Fi or cable, but I saw a DVD player. I was thinking of introducing you to my love of all things sci-fi.”
“Oh God, you didn’t,” I laugh.
“But I did, Maggie May,” he says with a wide grin.
Bryant and I watched Highlander on our first date while enjoying pizza. I guess for the most part, it’s probably a lame movie, but I loved it. Mostly I loved that Bryant was with me and wasn’t trying to impress me. Our date was easy and fun. His parents were gone—as I soon learned they were every weekend—and Bryant and I had his house to ourselves. He hated his house. I didn’t much care for it, either. It was too elegant and formal to fit who Bryant was. There was zero warmth in any of it. That night, though, we made a pallet of blankets on the living room floor, ate the simplest of foods while watching a cheesy movie and nothing had ever felt better. I don’t suppose much, if anything, has since.
“I should grab some blankets off the bed and make us a place in front of the television,” I exclaim, suddenly excited.
“Go ahead. I’ll get the crust in the pan and finish the ground beef. We’ll put the pizza together when you get back,” he says, and we share a smile.
I dash into the bedroom and giggle when I see the handcuffs on the headboard. I still can’t believe Bryant actually cuffed me to the bed. If he’s lucky, I just might let him do that tonight—for a much more pleasurable reason. I quickly gather the comforter and blanket up in my hands, and as I hug it to my chest, something falls by my foot, and I let out a startled scream, unable to stop looking, although I wish to God I could.
“Maggie? What’s wrong?” Bryant yells, running into the room.
I’m still clutching the blanket and comforter. Still staring down at the floor. He comes walking over and all I can do is point.
“Is this what you meant by you have balls now, Bryant? How experimental are you planning on getting tonight? Because I’m pretty sure Kegel balls weren’t used on our first date,” I mumble. “Or ever.”
Bryant reaches down and picks up the bright purple contraption that looks like it came from outer space. The top part is flatter and flairs out. The side is covered in a silver oval-shaped plate and from the way Bryant is holding it, it almost looks like some kind of alien and the silver thingy is its eye. The back part is round and thick and then it flairs off in what looks like a tail that has like a small leaf shape on the tip—which is what Bryant is holding it up by, essentially. I would have no idea what it was, to be honest, because it looks like nothing I’ve seen—in my admittedly limited experience. The clear, plastic bag the thing is inside of, however, has Kegel Balls written in big, bold, black lettering.
“Uh… I didn’t bring that, Maggie. I mean, I’m not against using it, if you want, but I’m not the reason it’s here.”
“Ew… Is it Titan and Faith’s? I mean, they’re brand new and I figured Titan was into kink cause he seems like he’s wound a little tightly.”
“I’m not sure I like you noticing anything about Titan,” Bryant pouts.
My eyebrows raise as I tear my gaze from the sex toy in Bryant’s hands to his face. “You can’t be jealous right now,” I gasp.
“The hell I can’t,” he complains.
“Bryant, Titan is married to my cousin”
“So? I don’t want you to even imagine any other man being into kink. I’m the only man you need to be looking at if you got sex on your mind, Maggie.”
“Wow. I wasn’t looking at Titan to satisfy anything to do with sex, caveman. So, slow your roll.”
“Good. Besides, I don’t think is belongs to Titan and Faith.”
“But I thought you said it wasn’t yours? If it isn’t Titan’s, then who?”
“Your mother.”
“What?” I ask, completely confused.
“Or rather, ours that your mother purchased for us,” he explains.
“Uh…Maybe you need to explain this to me, Bryant?” I tell him, trepidation beginning to fill me.
“Your mother helped me stock the cabin and she told me she left us a few… surprises,” he says, his fingers worrying his hair.
“Oh shit….”
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Bryant asks, and I think I see a trace of fear on his face. That’s good. He needs to be afraid.
Because I’m terrified.
21
Bryant
“Here we go,” Maggie says, setting two plates down on the coffee table that have one huge slice of pizza on each of them.
“A man could get used to this kind of service,” I joke, grinning as she plops down on the couch beside me.
“Is that a fact?” she returns, rolling her eyes as I hand her a soda that I’d brought in earlier.
I reach down and rip off a couple of paper towels from a roll I placed on the table and hand her one. She grabs her plate and situates everything else, and I do the same before I respond.
“Yeah, it’d be better if you were naked while you’re serving me my food, though.”
“If I did that, Mr. Matthews, I’m not sure it would be pizza I would be serving you up to eat.”
“That’s okay. It’s not food that I’m interested in eating right now,” I admit.
“Bryant…”
“It’s okay, Maggie. We’ll eat this… and then I’ll eat you.”
“Shouldn’t we be moving slow, here?” she asks, the need and fear in her voice bleed together, and yet, somehow, I can hear each strongly.
“This is slow for us, Maggie. Maybe you’ve forgotten,” I tell her, only half joking.
“No, I remember. But maybe that’s the problem, Bryant. You and I have always moved at warp speed and that hasn’t worked. Maybe we need to take time to think things through,” she says thoughtfully, grabbing her fork and using it to saw a bite-sized chunk off of her pizza slice.