Vulnerable

by Tymber Dalton

  He leaned against her, enjoying the feel of her arm around him. Not even remotely romantic in nature, just the joy of human contact. “What’s it like out there? I’ve never been.”

  Her brow furrowed. Finally, she said, “Imagine if Publix had an all-you-can-eat buffet located right in the middle of the store, and every item in the store was a BOGO.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Now imagine it’s the height of snowbird season, and they all had fifty-percent-off coupons on top of that.”

  “Yikes.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. Cutthroat to the max. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some pretty nice people out there, too, but a lot of people are simply looking for the angle to get what they want out of you. I understand now why Leigh wanted me to work with them.”

  “So you aren’t quitting?”

  “No. Sad to say everyone knew me better than I knew myself, in this case. I kind of enjoy playing gatekeeper and making Hollywood movers and shakers sit there and pitch their deals to me before I’ll even think about scheduling time for them with the gang.” That was how she referred to the poly triad of Nick, Lucas, and Leigh.

  “Sounds like your Domme skills are being put to good use.”

  “They are. I can be somewhat sadistic. Except, unfortunately, there are a couple of idiots who seem to enjoy it the bitchier I am to them when they annoy me. I think they’re closet masochists. Most people, I don’t have to get bitchy with. But a couple of them, they’re assholes until—ironically—I get bitchy with them.”

  “How does that work?”

  “The first idiot, when he called and talked to me for the first time, he demanded I put Leigh on. I promptly hung up on him. He called back and I hung up on him again. Leigh asked who it was and I told her. She told me to be ‘Tilly off-the-chain’ with him. So when he called back the third time—and I could see who it was because of caller ID—I told him to either tell me what the hell he wanted, or to quit wasting my time before I added his number to the blocked list. Boom, he was suddenly the sweetest guy. Weird.”

  “So the others are like that, too?”

  “Those weird ones, yes. Don’t get me wrong, most of the people I deal with are professional and polite.”

  “Makes me glad I’m a groundskeeper.”

  “Some days, I envy you,” she said. “Grass doesn’t flake out on you and reschedule a meeting fifteen times in the same damn afternoon.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. The last time, I told them that was the last time, that if they moved it again, I was canceling it for good.” She held up her other hand, thumb and first finger pinched together. “Okay, so that time, I was just a wee bit bitchy to them. But they deserved it.”

  He laid his head onto her shoulder. “Thank you for having a bitchy side. I appreciate you fighting for me when I wasn’t fighting for myself.”

  “No worries, kiddo. You make that mistake again, though, and you’re liable to get the bad kind of spanking from me.”

  * * * *

  It wasn’t too much later before Tilly called Jesse up to play. It was strictly impact and sensation play, no sensual aspect to it at all. Later, he would go home and rub one out in the shower while thinking about his sore ass and wishing it was a guy who’d given it to him.

  Landry had offered to top him, or volunteered Cris to do it, but Jesse preferred to play with Tilly. There was no chance of him accidentally slipping into the wrong emotional territory with her.

  He wasn’t so blind to his own shortcomings that he couldn’t see where he’d made a wrong turn with Mario. He’d started out as playpartners with the guy. Then he’d allowed Mario to do more sensual play with him, including in private, which quickly turned into full-on sexual play and sex.

  It had soon become difficult for Jesse to separate the play from his emotions. He’d found himself quickly manipulated into wearing a collar and moving in with Mario when he should have been protecting himself emotionally and mentally from the man.

  He wanted a partner, a Master. He wanted to be a slave. He wanted to hand over his heart and his trust to someone. He wanted someone he could trust enough to strip his soul bare to them and expose his vulnerability.

  He also didn’t want to lose himself in his vulnerability. Not again. The next man who captured his heart would have to be pretty damned special.

  Until then, he’d settle for a sore ass and some friend-zone aftercare cuddling with Tilly. He trusted her and knew she would never do anything to violate that trust.

  He also knew he could count on her for a figurative bonk on the head if he strayed off-course.

  By the time he left the club a little after midnight to walk around the building to the unit where the apartment was, he physically felt better, lighter. A good hard scene with Tilly always did that to him.

  It didn’t help his emotional outlook, but that was all on him, not her.

  After going upstairs and rubbing one out in the shower, he lay down in bed and closed his eyes, the faint bassline thump from the music in the club still filtering through the wall.

  Even through his loneliness, at least he now felt a peace he hadn’t since leaving home at eighteen. Making his own way had been his only option once his family disowned him. He’d spent a few months living with a friend and her parents before saving up enough for a tiny efficiency apartment in a decent complex.

  That was where he’d lived, alone, up until Mario walked into his life and all over his heart and trust.

  Never again.

  Kel had been willing to let him sign a one-year lease for this apartment, but Jesse asked for six months with the option to renew. He wanted to get back out to someplace else, someplace that was his.

  All he had to do was stay the course and hope to hell he didn’t screw up again.

  Chapter Three

  Leo and Laurel were standing in front of Mote Marine’s manatee tank Saturday afternoon when he felt his work cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He wasn’t at all shocked to see it was Keith Knepp.

  “Hope you’re not calling about that trailer,” Leo joked upon answering.

  Keith laughed. “Nope. As far as I know, he got over there safely. Listen, this isn’t a work thing. We’re having a friend over to the house for dinner next week and wanted to know if you could join us.”

  He glanced down at Laurel, whose attention was intently focused on Hugh and Buffett and how they were chowing down on romaine lettuce. She was taking pictures of them with her iPad. “Depends on what day. I’m only available on Thursday.”

  “Perfect! That’s when we were planning on it. Seven okay?”

  “Um, sure, but—”

  “Great, I’ll text you our address. Thanks!” Keith ended the call before Leo could reply.

  That left Leo staring at his phone.

  Well, shit.

  He was no dummy. He knew Keith was trying to set him up with someone. While Leo appreciated the gesture, he wasn’t exactly in a dating mood.

  He slipped his phone back into his pocket.

  Hell, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have dinner with them.

  If nothing else, it would get him out of the house.

  Despite knowing he was slipping into a dangerously dull routine, he’d been reluctant to get out and try to meet anyone romantically. Not when Laurel was the center of his world. Yes, he was more than just a dad. He needed to be a happy, well-rounded person to be the best dad he could be to Laurel.

  Right now, he felt more like he was existing than living.

  Eva had Thursday off and was planning on taking Laurel to see Eva’s grandmother at the nursing home in St. Petersburg where the woman lived. There was little chance of Eva changing those plans at the last minute, and he didn’t want her to. Eva had always been close to her grandmother, and any chance Laurel got to spend with the woman would be good for all three of them.

  The problem was, when Leo finally did manage to meet someone he was interested in dating, he hoped they’d be able to acce
pt him for who he was.

  Not just in the bedroom, either, but that he was, first and foremost, a father.

  No matter how much he loved someone, his little girl would always come first in his life.

  * * * *

  Jesse rolled over when his phone rang. Sleeping late on Saturdays and Sundays was his current favorite hobby. He was a little surprised to see it was Keith Knepp calling him.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s Thursday at seven?” Keith asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Dinner. Thursday at seven at my house?”

  Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and tried to wake up enough to focus. “Um…what?”

  “Dinner. Thursday. Seven. Just say yes, and I’ll text you the information.”

  “You’re channeling Tilly.”

  “I’m a Dom. It’s kind of what we do. I’ll take that as a yes. See you at seven on Thursday.”

  Jesse realized a moment later Keith had ended the call when his phone’s text tone went off in his ear, startling him.

  Their address.

  Okay, might as well accept it.

  He wasn’t a stupid subbie. If he didn’t let his friends try to fix him up, they’d only try harder. Or he’d accidentally hurt their feelings in the process of trying to get them to stop fixing him up.

  He put his phone back on the side table and tried to go to sleep. Keith knew he was a submissive. At work, sure, Jesse managed people and operations as part of his job. No problem.

  In his personal life, however, he wanted someone to take the reins. Especially in the bedroom. The play he engaged in with Tilly only satisfied a little of his masochistic and submissive side, just enough to keep him from making more stupid choices and jumping into another relationship.

  Keith knew all of that. About Mario and the bullshit. Hell, he’d been part of the emergency moving party.

  He wouldn’t fix me up with a vanilla guy.

  Jesse hoped.

  * * * *

  Leo and Laurel ate lunch at Mote, then hit the grocery store on the way home. Their routine was she picked a recipe during the week, from several he sent to her, for them to prepare together Saturday night. He loved cooking, and Laurel loved helping. This week, they were preparing lemon chicken breasts with fresh vegetables.

  He tried not to think about the early days with Eva, when he started teaching her how to cook. How he’d used activities like this to try to draw them closer together and edge out the whispers seeping up deep from the recesses of his brain.

  Whispers such as when watching a movie, how he often lusted after the leading man and not the heroine.

  How when he took control in bed—which was pretty much the only way he could perform with Eva—he would close his eyes and pretend she was a guy and not his wife.

  How the longer they were together, the more difficult it was for him to maintain the facade.

  Worse, Eva liked him being in charge in bed and it had understandably hurt and mystified her when he admitted that their sex life had been a chore for him, especially toward the end, even though it wasn’t her fault.

  Sure, some men might ask their wives to put on a strap-on and peg their ass, but it was about more than just physical parts or lack thereof. She’d sated his Dominant needs in the beginning, but he’d always held back with her. He’d had to or risk overwhelming her personality.

  Because she wasn’t a man, and sating his deepest, darkest fantasies with her wasn’t an option. Not without risking emotionally scarring her.

  No way would he do that to her.

  Eva needed someone who could be the husband she needed. Just like he needed a man he could truly be himself with.

  “I like helping you cook, Daddy,” Laurel said as she stood on a dining room chair and helped prep the chicken and veggies in the baking dish.

  “I like having you help,” he said.

  “Mommy doesn’t let me help cook very much,” she said.

  He bit his tongue against the first response he wanted to utter. “Mommy’s got a very busy schedule, sweetheart. Sometimes, you need to cut her some slack.”

  “You’re busy, too,” she said. “You let me help.”

  Because I treasure every second with you.

  “Mommy does the best she can,” he finally settled on.

  She looked up at him with blue eyes the color of his. “I wish you still lived with Mommy, but I know you’re happier now.”

  He blinked, startled at the conversation’s turn. Yes, the counselor had warned them about non sequiturs like this.

  “Why is that, sweetheart?”

  “You don’t frown anymore. Ashley’s mom and dad yell at each other all the time. I’m glad you guys don’t do that.”

  Ashley was her current BFF from daycare. The two girls had met in kindergarten last year, and would be attending the same elementary school in the fall. Both girls had tested high on the charts in terms of aptitude and reading, and would likely be in the same first grade class, one for more advanced students.

  “I’m glad we don’t do that, too. You know Mommy and I will always love you and be there for you, right?”

  “Yeah. I heard Mark ask Mommy if you were dating any guys. What did he mean?”

  He nearly choked on the piece of raw broccoli he’d snagged from the batch they were going to add to the baking dish.

  It means I’m going to beat the snot out of Mark.

  But that was not what he said when he finally got a few sips of water down his throat and stopped coughing.

  Laurel stood there, her blue gaze intent on him, waiting.

  He knew that determined look all too well. She wouldn’t stop asking the question unless or until he answered it. He could even tell her they weren’t going to discuss it, but she would keep bringing it up until they did.

  Wasn’t his first rodeo with the child.

  He’d had a couple of private sessions with the counselor, covering this exact scenario, but he’d hoped it’d be a while before he had to deal with it.

  “Well, sweetheart, people are all different. Some people are attracted to people of the opposite gender, and some—”

  “I saw on the news gay marriage is legal now. Are you going to get married? Can I be your flower girl?”

  Leo had never been shocked into silence before. But as he stood there, staring at his child and with his mouth agape, he realized he had been utterly blindsided by her yet again.

  If she’s this smart now, we are in a shitload of trouble when she’s older.

  “Um…what?”

  “Mommy had the news on one day and I saw a story about it. It was at the courthouse, and there were women marrying women and men marrying men. It looked like they were really happy. Will Mommy marry a woman even though she’s had boyfriends?”

  They were far down the rabbit hole. “Um…no. I…doubt it.” He needed to get control of this, and fast, before it spun into something he couldn’t deal with. “Sweetheart, look. Your mom and I will always love you and get along for you. I want your mom to be happy, and she wants me to be happy. Love takes a lot of forms—”

  “George Takei says it’s okay to be gay. I saw him on TV, too. He’s that guy from Star Trek. He looks a lot older now than he does on the show. Why is that?”

  Nope. Blindsided again.

  His mouth snapped shut on what he’d been about to say. One of the things he’d introduced Laurel to that Eva never had enjoyed was the original Star Trek TV show. As Laurel grew older, he planned on introducing his daughter to more TV shows he enjoyed in the sci-fi genre, but some of them were still a little too old for her to watch, even though when he did the math he’d been watching them at her age.

  Ah, the perspective that comes from parenting.

  He obviously wasn’t winning this conversation, no matter how he tried. She was like a greased pig cranked up on meth, and he was a one-armed, drunk redneck with a wooden leg and an eyepatch and stumbling around in a dark forest, trying to catch her.

 
At least, that was what it felt like.

  “Yes, I’m gay,” he finally said. “That means I’m attracted to men instead of women. No, I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s way too soon to be talking about marriage.”

  “Okay.” She went back to carefully placing each piece of vegetable in the baking dish.

  He waited, but…

  Apparently, that was it. She was satisfied now that she’d dropped him into a mental blender and hit puree.

  Frequently, he wondered if Laurel was smarter than him and Eva put together. He couldn’t help but suspect that sometimes Laurel brought up topics of conversation just to see what would happen.

  Like pulling a pin on a strange canister and lobbing it out into the middle of a field to see if it would smoke or explode.

  We are in sooo much trouble when she gets older.

  “Is the oven preheating, Daddy?”

  That shook him out of his spell. He checked. “Yes. It’s ready.”

  She smiled up at him. “I love helping you cook, Daddy.”

  “I love having you help me cook.”

  Although the conversation tonight had left him feeling shaken, not stirred.

  * * * *

  It wasn’t until after Laurel was safely in bed and asleep later that night that he collapsed on the couch in front of the dark TV and contemplated their earlier conversation.

  Laurel hadn’t brought it up again.

  He still felt pissed off that Eva had been discussing his personal life—what little she knew of it—with one of her boyfriends. Especially around Laurel.

  And especially with a boyfriend she hadn’t even bothered to mention to Leo.

  Despite knowing this wasn’t a good idea, he picked up his cell phone and dialed Eva.

  She answered on the second ring. “What’s up, Leo?”

  He bit back his first scathing response in lieu of, “Can we talk for a minute?”

  “Sure.” In the background on her end, he heard the TV mute. “What’s up?”