Petal finally looks up and smiles. “I have the pictures Candy sent me if you don’t believe me. She married the plastic surgeon who fixed her back up. She’s now the proud owner of size 42 Double V’s.”
“No fucking way.” This comes from Jansen, who I honestly don’t think curses at all, but if ever an occasion called for it, it’d be this one.
“Want to see?” Petal asks, getting out her purse. Jansen, Cyan, and Blue all head over there.
“Don’t you dare,” I grumble when White starts to get up.
“What? Why? Come on! You can’t tell me you aren’t wondering what in the hell that looks like?”
“Go ahead and look, but if you do, you won’t be seeing mine again anytime soon,” I tell him. Though, I’m not being fair. I am totally curious and I’ll be hitting up Petal to look at those pictures later.
“Hey! I know her!” Cyan says, drawing everyone’s attention. “What? She’s a star!”
“He’s right,” Petal says, putting the pictures back in her purse. “She’s a big-time porn star now. She’s won several Golden Dildo awards.”
“It scares me that you know what those are,” Ida Sue says and Petal just shrugs.
“You mean I dated a porn star?” White asks, and I wonder if I should hit him again.
“Yeah, man, but to be fair, I’ve only seen one of her movies. It was a cult classic though. The Titties That Tamed Cock-Zilla.”
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Ida Sue mutters, and I have to agree with her.
“Well, to be fair, Candy did like for you to put your—”
“If you say another word, I’m going to the hay pile with Blue,” I warn.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Blue says with a wink.
White flips him off and gives me a look—which I return.
Asshole.
CHAPTER 34
WHITE
From the look on Kayla’s face, it’d be a good thing if I change the subject. Besides, all joking aside, the fact that Candy is now some Golden Dildo award-winning porn star is a little gross. I find myself wanting to jump in the shower and wash my dick… or make Kayla. That would probably be my best bet. I feel my dick pulse against my jeans. Time to change the subject unless I want to sport a chubby around my brothers and my Mom.
“Mom, you can’t expect me to drink this.”
“I sure can and you will drink every last drop, White Hall. That’s a nutritious morning shake that’s jam-packed full of vitamins and things you need. Speaking of which, here’s yours, dear,” Mom says, handing Kayla a glass. At least her shake isn’t green. It’s a really pretty color of orange, kind of like an evening sunset. I lean over to smell it. Kayla frowns at me and I kiss her nose.
Her shake doesn’t smell bad, unlike the nasty thing I’m holding.
“Uh… thanks, Ida Sue,” Kayla whispers nervously, shaking her drink.
“Go ahead, try it! It’s got peaches in it. You’ll love it,” Mom encourages.
I watch as Kayla slowly brings it to her mouth. I get distracted watching the way her throat works as she drinks it. I never thought certain things were sexy before Kayla. I was definitely wrong as I watch the orange-colored cream slide into her mouth and she swallows, all hopes of not sporting a hard-on around my mother have been dashed.
“Do you like it?” Mom asks, and my hand reaches under the table to adjust my dick.
“I do,” she says. “It’s good, kind of citrusy and sweet. What’s in it?”
“Different things. Oranges, peaches, and I added some cranberries.”
“It’s good,” Kayla repeats while swallowing down a second drink. She seems to be telling the truth, so after one last sniff, I decide to take a swig of mine. Maybe it tastes better than it looks.
Wrong! So, wrong.
The putrid crap seems to lodge in my throat and I have to gag to swallow it the rest of the way down. I can’t know for sure without an x-ray, but I’m pretty sure that shit is burning out my intestines. I slam the glass back down on the table.
“What the fuck is in that?”
“Will you watch your language? All this talk of tits and cock-zillas, and now your language is getting out of hand. River will be back any time. You boys already have Terry talking like a sailor. When you and Kayla make me a grandkid, I will skin you alive if you don’t clean up the way you talk.”
“You tell him, Mom,” Cyan joins in.
“I think you ought to make Cyan and Blue drink this shit,” I grumble. Kayla giggles and I fake a mean look at her, which makes her laugh more. Why something that simple makes me so ridiculously happy, I have no idea.
“Stop your whining. Jesus! What you’re drinking is a mixture of coffee—which you love, White Hall Lucas. Don’t bother denying it.”
“That can’t be just coffee,” I argue, wondering idly if it would strip the stain off this table.
“It also has carrots, Serrano chilies, and celery,” Ida Sue lists off, like what she is saying is just a normal everyday recipe.
“Mother of God, are you trying to kill me?”
“Of course not. I’m trying to help.”