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I side-eye him, and he smiles at me. “Oh, don’t try to stifle my genius. You know how much I make off this side hustle?”
I stare at him some more, and he rolls his eyes. “Thousands a year, mister. It pays for my coffee addiction….”
He smiles widely at me, and I lean forward and kiss him senseless. It almost seems like he swoons, and it gives me all sorts of ideas. Ideas where I take him back home, lay him out and slide inside of him.
But I digress.
“Come on. Before they come out here looking for us.”
Damon sighs and presses a hand to his lips, looking completely blissful. He exits the car, his sangria in one hand and a bag of things he apparently made for my family in the other. I grab the succulent pot from the back, and we make our way up the front porch. The door opens before I can ring the doorbell and my dad appears, a slow smile pulling his lips up. His mustache twitches.
“Hello, son. Damon.”
The fact that he remembers his name makes my heart swell. But then again, my dad is very intentional.
“Wasn’t sure when you two would finally show up.”
“Well, we’re here now and also…I have a gift for you,” Damon says as he struggles to reach into his bag with the sangria tucked into his chest.
“Hey, let me take that for you,” I say, setting the pot down on the porch to take the pitcher of sangria.
“Excuse me, Tomas. That can’t go on the ground like that. That pot is sacred. It’s been blessed.”
I stare up at him and my dad just smirks at me. A slow one, but one nonetheless.
“Okay, well tell me what you want me to do then? Because I don’t have four hands.”
“Shame. Let’s just go inside. I can give everyone their stuff in there.”
We trudge inside, my dad disappearing in the way only he can. When Damon enters the kitchen, he’s bombarded by my sisters and my mom—my brother even makes an appearance and slaps him on the back. Damon distributes the scarves and hands my mom the succulents, but it’s when he shows Tarak his penis pouch that everyone goes wild.
“This is brilliant,” Tara screams.
“Oh, the color matches his eyes,” Tabitha croons.
But it’s Tiegan’s comment that makes me guffaw. “It’s so small, perfect for his tiny, little peen.”
Tarak scowls. “It’s not small. It’s huge. Bigger than my forearm,” Tarak says, his cheeks flaming, but everyone is already in hysterics.
“I knew I liked this one,” Tabitha says, and my mom agrees, the four of them converging on Damon and hugging him tightly. All of them are wearing the scarves he made, despite it being so damn hot outside. I know they’ll cherish them for years to come.
“Well, I hope Tomas decides to keep you around,” my dad says suddenly from behind us, and Tiegan jumps, staring at my dad like he’s a wily ghost.
“Honestly, Dad. How do you make no sound when you walk? It’s creepy.”
He shrugs and then continues on his way, and I stare at Damon who’s beaming. My family obviously adores him, and I don’t blame them. Besides the fabulous sex we have, there is so much more to him. The way he interacts with my family, the way he cares for the people he loves. It’s amazing.
He’samazing.
“Come on,” I say, shuffling him outside where it’s a bit quieter. My siblings don’t follow right away, they are all standing in the kitchen pouring sangria and admiring the scarves and penis pouch that Damon made them. I can see them through the window smiling and laughing.
“You made them really happy,” I say, and Damon peers over at me.
“I’m glad. My family…my parents…they don’t like what I do. Well…they don’t appreciate it. So, I’m glad I have someone who does.”
“They should, they’re obviously idiots.”
Damon beams at me. “I know they are. But reserve judgment until you meet them.”
