It’s starting to occur to me that I have a tendency to hold myself away from the people I love and not tell them anything. I know that’s exactly what I’m doing when it comes to the lump they found in my breast. I’ve wanted to tell Bryant a million times, but I didn’t want to say anything out loud until I knew everything. I didn’t want to confide my fear and cry on his shoulder. But, then again, even that’s only part of it.
I’m afraid.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how that porn tape got in there,” he says, surprising me. I move so that I can perch my head under my hands on his chest—which makes it so I can see his face easier.
“I thought you didn’t want me to think about Titan and his weird tastes in porn,” I tease.
“I don’t. In fact, maybe it’d be better if you never said his name out loud again,” he grumps, making me giggle. “I’m being serious!”
“I know. That’s why it’s so cute.”
“You’re working up for a spanking, Maggie May,” Bryant warns—or promises. A shiver of pleasure moves through me, and from the sparkle in Bryant’s eyes, I know he doesn’t miss it. “Anyway, I had your mother drop that DVD here when she stocked the place.”
All signs of pleasure leave me as my body tenses and my eyes go wide.
“You did what?” I gasp.
“Yeah, so I’m thinking your mother is the reason porn-a-palooza is here,” he confesses.
I try to talk, but for a minute, I’m not able to form words. “You really are insane!” I finally squeak. “So hairy beaver movie was probably another one of my mother’s Easter egg surprises! Oh God, I’m scared at what else we’ll find.”
“It could be fun,” he says, with a half shrug, and now I know he is insane.
“If you, Bryant Beauregard Matthews, think for one minute that we will have fun with anything my mother brought into this house, you best think again. That is not happening.”
“Ouch,” he says, scrunching up his face as if he just received a physical blow. “Low blow bringing out the middle name, Magnolia Tree.”
“It’s Marie,” I snort. “It says so on the birth certificate.”
“Only because of an overzealous nurse and Ida Sue not catching it,” Bryant returns.
“You’re too cute to be a smartass, Bryant. Stop,” I mutter, making him laugh. I close my eyes and enjoy the sound. When I open them again, a small yawn escapes me. “Do you think we should scavenge the house and see what else Mom has left rather than leave them up to chance?” I ask, trying to not freak out that my mother has left things around the house designed to get me laid….
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Maggie?” he teases, making me roll my eyes.
“Fine, but if I find the ball stretching clamps first, I’m using them,” I huff.
“The what?” Bryant questions, and I think I see fear on his face, and that makes me happy because he really should be scared.
My mother is crazy.
23
Bryant
“That’s a lot of…”
“Stuff?” Maggie supplies.
We’re staring down at a huge pile of… stuff that Maggie took it upon herself to find. By stuff, I’m totally talking about sex toys. The amount that Maggie found is kind of staggering, if you think about it. I’m thinking that Ida Sue must have cleaned out an entire adult novelty shop. I haven’t seen this many fake dicks since well… Okay, since I don’t really look at fake dicks, that would be never. I tried to count them but lost count at somewhere around thirty. I don’t really know whether to laugh or worry about the fact Ida Sue thinks my dick has been removed or broken.
It also looks like an X-rated rainbow blew up in here. There’s dicks of every color—red, green, blue, turquoise, black, white, peach—just to name a few. I even spotted a florescent lime green that fades into lemony yellow.
I bend down to pick up this long wand that looks like a throwback from the seventies tie-dye. It’s about three feet long—I’m not even joking—and made of what I think is glass. The ends are shaped and made like a giant dick. I’m not a small man, but the size of this make me a little self-conscious—like, damn.
“What in the fuck does your mom expect us to do with this?” I mutter, wondering if I need to have a talk with my mother-in-law to explain to her that some ports of entry in my body actually do not have entry.
“Or this,” she says, letting a black leather ball gag dangle from her finger.
“Well, now, that might come in handy when you’re arguing with me,” I point out—only half kidding. That’s when Maggie turns it so that I can see the ball part actually looks like a giant eyeball. Then, she goes one step further and flips a switch on the leather and the eyeball lights up.