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He answered her question by turning on the vibrator. “I’m going to hold it, here, on your clit. Okay, baby?”
She nodded. Her friends all used vibrators, but Mia had always been too embarrassed to buy one. Blaine grabbed a stepstool and stood on it, so he was perfectly positioned to screw Mia on his kitchen counter. “This might shock you…” He placed the buzzing cylinder against her clit, and at the same time slid his rock hard cock into her.
Mia had never experienced anything like it. Her excitement level shot through the roof in seconds. Blaine thrust into her as she felt her climax coming on. She came in two hard spurts, and to her mortification, she wet herself some. Blaine must have seen it, because he said, “You came that hard, huh?” He held her thighs and went deep. “Came so hard you lost control?”
She nodded and whimpered. “I’m sorry.”
“Naughty girl,” he said. He pulled his cock out of her. “Jerk me till I come, for being so naughty.”
She rubbed his cock, and felt it spasm in her hands. He came in a stream on her flat belly.
He backed away, and for a moment Mia thought he was truly upset with her. He leaned against the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen, panting. She looked at the ceiling, her mortification building, until she felt a soft towel on her belly. He pulled her into a sitting position and then lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him. “I didn’t want to squash you on that hard counter,” he said.
Mia breathed a sigh of relief. Someday, hopefully, she’d convince herself that Blaine really wanted her. She’d stop worrying, and let this wo
nderful new love be her reality.
*
Blaine pulled out all the stops for Maria Tennyson. He’d never had much trouble charming women, but he’d never tried to charm an overprotective Cuban mother, either. He asked Mia for a few recipes for appetizers and whipped up three different delicacies, one beef, one pork and one vegetarian. He laid them out on platters on the boat’s removable table. He’d last used the table to debone fish, but no matter. With some effort it looked elegant enough.
He bought Mia’s favorite chardonnay and a bottle of gin for Maria. He’d been taken aback by Mia’s claim that her mother only drank hard liquor. It didn’t mesh with his mental picture of straight-laced, pious, middle-aged Catholic woman.
“Catholics don’t’ care about drinking,” said Mia. “We just go to confession and all is well.”
So Blaine sliced limes and set out a bottle of tonic beside the gin. He made himself a drink while he waited. As the minutes ticked by, he felt more and more nervous about meeting Mia’s mom.
They appeared on the dock promptly at 6pm. Maria followed her daughter. They were images in the same mirror, Maria’s had just faded a bit. Same dark hair and big brown eyes and long legs. Blaine’s father had once told him that you should always check out a woman’s mother if you want to see what you’re getting yourself into for the long run. Maria Perez Tennyson had set the bar pretty high.
Mia introduced them and Blaine helped Maria onto the boat. Her dark eyes darted over the drinks and food. He’d put away all of his fishing paraphernalia, so the Wanderlust really just looked like a big white boat. Nothing particularly special, if you didn’t know anything about fishing.
“Which caterer did you use?” asked Maria. She selected one of the pork appetizers. “Havana Winds does such nice platters.”
“I didn’t use a caterer,” Blaine said. “I made them.”
“Blaine is a great cook,” said Mia.
Maria arched one dark brow, but she took a bite. Her eyes widened for a moment before she resumed her stern expression. “Not bad. Tasty. My grandmother made these.”
“Thank you,” Blaine said. “Would you like a gin and tonic?”
Maria nodded. Blaine met Mia’s eyes, and she must have sensed his panic, because she smiled reassurance.
He dolled out Maria’s gin and tonic. As he poured, he wondered if he should go light on the liquor or make it stiff. He wasn’t sure which angle would benefit him more: a sober, thoughtful Maria, or a drunk, giggling one.
In the end he chose a middle ground. Maria sipped her drink and asked him polite and not too personal questions. He responded honestly, and when Mia slipped her arm around his waist, he was sure he was winning Maria over.
“So why is a man like you, wealthy and handsome, why are you not married? Why don’t you have children?” Maria seemed to have dispensed with not-too-personal.
Blaine’s confidence deflated like a balloon with a slow leak. He looked down at Mia, who was grimacing at her mother’s tactlessness. Maybe I should have gone light on the gin, Blaine thought. Now she wants all the dirty details.
He cleared his throat, and decided to embrace his new open book policy. “I was married. Well, actually, I’ve been married twice.” Maria’s eyes widened and Blaine would almost see the Hail Mary running through her head.
“Neither situation worked out. I’d like to have children…” Mia was now watching him as intently as her mother. “If the right situation came along. I’d like nothing more than to be a father. But I won’t introduce children into any situation that’s not a stable, traditional family.”
Maria nodded. “Hmm. That’s good to hear. All these rich men—like these rappers, with their children all over the place. It’s not good. Like that man—what’s his name? Puff Diddy. Or is it Puffy Daddy?”
Mia giggled into her hand, and Blaine himself almost burst out laughing at the comparison between himself, a retired software nerd, and Sean Combs, entertainment mogul.
