Truly Helpless: A Nature of Desire Series Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  “Well, I am irresistible to difficult and standoffish males,” she said.

  The black kitten was back at the door of the enclosure, pawing at it, and meowing plaintively. A glance showed Dale had left them to their privacy. Regina was surprised when Marius pushed himself up stiffly and leaned across the distance without getting up. He opened the enclosure, then stretched back out on his side in the same position with Regina, head in her lap. It touched her, though he looked so tired. She kept rubbing her palm in slow, soothing circles along his back. The kitten mountain-climbed Marius’s knee, sidling up to his hip, settling there and looking pleased with herself.

  “A female after my own heart,” Regina observed. “She wants to be on top.”

  “Sure she’s female?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I thought I was getting a dog,” Marius said after a time.

  “Looks to me like a cat chose you instead.”

  His throat worked as he swallowed. “She deserves better than me.”

  “That may be true, but since she’s chosen you, sounds like you have one more good reason to get your shit together.”

  His gaze lifted to Regina’s face and held there. “Yeah, maybe,” he said.

  “Yeah, definitely.” She curled over him more tightly, putting his head and face in the cocoon of her body. “You’re a far better man than you’ve let yourself be, Duncan Marius Walczek. I’ve every confidence you won’t let me or her down.”

  Proving it a moment later, he adjusted his body toward her, lifting an arm and looping it over her bent shoulders, rounding out the cocoon their bodies and limbs formed. His fingers delved into her hair to hold and tug. He squeezed her hard, giving her his strength in return for her own.

  He also surprised her when he at last shifted, making sure the kitten had a safe transition to the floor before he stood on his knees and wrapped both arms around Regina. Since she was still sitting, her head was on his chest, and he gave her that same sense of being surrounded by warmth she’d just given him.

  “Thank you,” he said thickly. “In case I’m an asshole later, which is a pretty sure bet, I wanted to say that.”

  “You won’t be an asshole later, or I’ll kick your ass. If that’s what you need.” She smoothed her hands over his back and pressed her face into his chest, liking his heated scent. “I promised you a walk along the waterfront. Why don’t we go do that? We don’t have to make any decisions here.”

  “No. Yeah.” He sat back on his heels and considered the kitten, who was playing with one of her brethren, tumbling and posturing with an adorable fuzzing up of tiny tail and back. “I think if I don’t set things in motion, once I leave here, I’ll talk myself out of it. I want to do it.”

  “Okay.” She put a hand over his. “Just don’t push yourself to do too much, too fast. It might be a good idea to think it all over some before you make too many changes.”

  He shook his head, a stubborn set to his jaw. “I’ve been stuck in this fucking rut for so long, all this shit about my dad in my head, and I’m done with it. It’s like you said. Time to start living up to the expectations of people I want in my life.”

  “Sounds like a great start,” she said sincerely. And she didn’t want to do anything to throw a wrench into it. But…

  “What you went through, Marius. It’s not something you decide one day it’s over, pick up your life and go on. Just now, when you looked at the kitten, I could see the hesitation in your gaze, even though she was sitting on you just a few minutes ago. It’s going to be there for a long time, what happened with your dad.”

  “So you don’t think I should adopt her?”

  He looked so crestfallen, it gave his face a youthfulness she didn’t typically see in his tough, masculine features. “I didn’t say that.” Though she realized she did think it might be too soon.

  “No. I think you should,” she said firmly, hoping she wasn’t mistaking soft-heartedness for good instincts. If she was, she had Dale as a safety net. “I just think you should also take it slow. Why don’t we go take our walk, and let it all sink in? Though before we go, we can fill out all the paperwork and get things started.”

  He gave her a searching look, but nodded. “Okay.”

  Dale’s standard process involved a lot of questions. Some of the more penetrating ones about Marius’s living arrangements, finances and work schedule made her boy get more somber and quiet as the process continued. When it concluded and Dale met her gaze, Marius pushed back from the table abruptly.

  “I know I’m a bad bet, so I get it. Whatever.” He moved toward the office door, that belligerent set to his shoulders Regina well knew. Dale brought him to a halt with one question.

  "Why do you want to adopt this kitten, Marius?”

  Marius pivoted and faced him. “What does it matter? I’m not a good home for her. I can tell you think so.”

  “Maybe you’re assuming things so you don’t get punched in the face by a rejection. From what I understand from Regina, you’re not afraid of getting punched in the face for real, so man up and answer my fucking question honestly. And don’t presume to know what’s in my head, son.”

  Marius bristled at what Regina was sure was Dale’s deliberate use of the familiarity. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t break the retired SEAL’s gaze, which Regina knew was a good accomplishment when Dale was leveling that stare on someone.

  “I would take care of her. I’d follow Regina’s direction on the stuff I don’t know about, and I’d learn how to be good at it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. That’s the kind of sincerity I want from someone who adopts an animal. But it’s not an answer to my question. Why do you want to adopt her?”

  Marius frowned. Sorting the thoughts and emotions to answer Dale clearly was an obvious physical effort. “I liked holding her,” he said at last. “I liked how she trusted me. When she played, it made me smile. Those things felt normal. She made me feel like I could be a normal person, adopting a pet. I thought, for a minute, I could give her a good home. That we could be good together.”

  She saw a deep despair in his gaze. “But you’re right. It’s too soon and…just forget it. Thanks for your time. I’ll be in the car.”

  He left the office, the screen door clapping against the frame as he released it and strode across the lot. A couple of the dogs approached him and then veered off.

  “He’s right. It’s too soon,” Dale said. “I’m sorry, Regina, but he’s all over the map.”

  “What if I was the cat’s primary guardian? If she lives with me?” As the idea formed in her mind, it made sense. Keeping the cat at her home for the time being would help Marius be less uptight about all the things that could go wrong. Give him breathing space to build the necessary bridges in his mind to see himself as a good risk as a pet parent. “I think he truly does want to learn how to care for a pet,” she added. “But that would be less stressful, and good for him and the cat at the same time.”

  Regina was relieved to see Dale’s expression ease into a tentative approval. “If you’re wanting to adopt a cat, that could work. I’d need to be sure that if it never worked out for him, that you’d want to be this cat’s long term home. I want her loved, not just tolerated.”

  “No problem there. I’ve thought about adopting one plenty of times, but until recently I traveled too much. The corporate outreach through the community college is looking like a two-year gig at least, and may lead to other consulting in the area. I’m over being on the road half the year.”

  Dale grunted. “I’d accept that solution, then. But it would be good if she had a friend to play with.”

  Regina shot him a calculating look. “Do I get a two-for-one discount?”

  Dale shrugged blandly, but with a twinkle in his blue-green eyes. “It’s a known fact that most dogs and cats are happier if they have another animal companion in the home, especially when most families have to work nine to five so they’re alone a big chunk of the day.”
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  “How about that striped brown tabby who looks pissed at the world?”

  Dale chuckled. “That’s Bad Attitude. I call him Badat for short. He’s a feral who catches rats around the junkyard, though he’s become socialized enough he’ll occasionally let me pet his head and not try to take my hand off at the wrist. Some days, like today, he snarls at me until I let him into the cat building to hang out for awhile on his observation perch. He’s pretty dug in here, and considers himself the lord of the cat habitat. Otherwise, I’d let you try your Mistress wiles on him. You seem to have a touch for the male hard cases.”

  He cocked his head, the light glinting off the silver strands in his short hair. “But the mom of that kitten needs a home. She’s barely nine months old herself, so she still has plenty of kitten in her to be a good playmate. She’s also a tough little lady. Reserves judgment and does some heavy screening of her own before she decides to be friendly with a human. I think the two of you would be a good match.”

  “All right.” Regina rose. “I’ll talk to Marius. I’ll text you if we’re coming back to pick them up before we leave. I can meet her then.”

  “No problem.” Dale sat back. “He’s a good kid who’s been mind-fucked in the worst nightmare kind of way. He doesn’t believe it, but I’m in his corner. I’d really like him to provide a home for this little mite. It’s not a bad idea to have two imperious females in his life looking out for him.”

  Regina chuckled, and touched his hand fondly. “I know you’re in his corner. And I appreciate you being straight about it. The truth is the best way to go with him, though his reaction to it can be challenging. He’s a workout.”

  “Some of the best ones can be,” Dale noted. “Good luck, Mistress.”

  She left the office, petted and spoke to the dogs lying in the shade of the rollout awning in front. As she walked along the gravel drive to the entrance, she saw Marius leaning against the back bumper of their car, gazing down the road. Sliding through the front gate, she moved to prop next to him, hip to hip. The New Orleans sun was starting to set, but the humidity was still high. She could see the dampness of the soft hairs on his nape.

  “Hungry?” she asked. “Someone promised me dinner.”

  He lifted a shoulder and straightened. “Yeah.”

  “Hey.” She stopped him, moving into his space. Cradling his jaw, she put a kiss on his tense mouth. It eased under the pressure of hers, and his lips parted. She swept in to tangle with his tongue and bring their mouths even closer together. It reflected the same closeness she was bringing to the contact between their two bodies, her breasts against his chest, hips and thighs brushing.

  His hands went to her waist, holding her even closer. Making a soft noise of pleasure, she slid her arm over his shoulder, hand resting on his neck, stroking as she took the full measure of the kiss that spun out under a lazy, warm sun. She was vaguely aware of the sounds of frogs from a nearby pond, the rasping song of crickets.

  When she lifted her head, breaking the kiss, his eyes held desire along with the confusion, but the confusion wasn’t as jagged and painful. She stroked his jaw.

  “Buy me dinner, sweet boy.”

  Food always seemed to level out even the most uncertain male temperament. Marius started out the meal cordial though quiet, but as it progressed, she made him talk about random subjects. She added in the reminder he had to be a good date or she’d leave him for one of New Orleans many street buskers. Under that kind of gentle teasing, he started to relax again. But it wasn’t until they were done with their meal, and she was seeing the occasional smile out of him, that she decided to head back toward more serious topics.

  “So I told you how I got into the Domme thing. How did you first figure out your submissive craving?”

  They were walking along the outskirts of Jackson Square. They’d paused to hear the musical stylings of a man with Marley-style dreadlocks playing a trio of upside down buckets and improvising lyrics about the foot traffic around him. But as they moved on, she posed the question.

  Marius shrugged. “Kind of fell into it. Regular relationships weren’t working.”

  “Oh? How so?” She directed him up the ramp over the trolley tracks to the sidewalk that followed the river. It took them away from the Jackson Square congestion.

  He didn’t say anything right away. But she waited him out and eventually he collected his thoughts and gave her more. “Couldn’t…you know. Perform. I’d get with a girl, start making out the way any other high school kid did, and all the stuff would pile up in my head, these images from the past, things she didn’t know about me, and…nothing. I covered it by getting really good at getting her off.”

  A dry smile touched his lips. “Not a bad skill to have. One girl I was with for a little while, she enjoyed it a lot, and started being kind of bossy about it. Think I stumbled onto an aspiring Domme, neither one of us understanding then why we were so well-matched.

  “She’d tell me what to do, how she wanted it, and the more she ordered me around…well, I realized I was getting turned on by it. First time I came while with a woman. All over her dress.”

  Regina winced and he chuckled painfully. “Nothing like being a teenager, right? After that, I figured out what my trigger was and could finally masturbate like a normal kid.”

  “You never had, until then?”

  “Not successfully.” A shadow crossed his expression and his gaze was elsewhere again. “I’d have the urge, but couldn’t make it go anywhere. That mindfuck invasion from my past again.” He cleared his throat. “When I turned twenty-one, I went looking for the pro-Dommes. I was more comfortable with that scenario than finding it through a relationship. But the pro-Domme thing only worked once or twice.”

  “Because they were a paid service.”

  He looked toward her, surprise flickering in his expression. “Yeah. They were there to take care of my needs. No matter how cloaked it was in me doing things for them, that was the deal. They were pros, so they could have been enjoying it, not enjoying it, and been tops or bottoms in their real lives, or neither.”

  He needed to serve a Mistress, really serve her, even if he was fighting through a quagmire of his own issues to get there. The thought gave her a firm surge of satisfaction, though she spoke casually. “So things flopped again, literally.”

  “Nice confidence booster there, Mistress,” he said dryly. “But yeah. The first time, the pro decided what would work would be humiliation. Telling me I was garbage, didn’t deserve to be born, that kind of thing.”

  He noticed her wince. “Lots of guys get off on that,” he said mildly. “It wasn’t a bad guess.”

  “Yeah. Guys to whom it doesn’t hit so close to home to what they really think of themselves. Did it work for you?”

  “No,” he admitted. “Gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. She was smart, figured it out, sent me to another Domme who had me kneel at her feet, fucked me with a strap-on, let me eat her out while she sat on this throne like a queen. That got some response, but not much. Once again, she was a smart lady, so after talking to me about it, she figured out what I couldn’t and suggested I hit the clubs, make myself available to Dommes looking for subs for a night of play. That’s where I found the fit. My fit.”

  He gestured down the hill to a beer vendor. “If we’re going to talk about my teenage struggle with impotence, I’m going to need a beer. Can I bring you one?”

  “Sure. But from what I can tell, that issue is fully in the past.” She gave him an appreciative look. “I’ve never had a problem noticing when you’re inside me. You and your man meat totally get my attention.”

  He chuckled, but she could tell from the slight tinge of color in his cheeks she’d stroked his ego, in the right way. Boy needed the right kind of stroking, especially after admitting so baldly he’d had trouble getting it up most of his teen years. Most men wouldn’t have done that.

  She touched his arm. “You don’t drink much because your mother did. To make it
all go away. I’m guessing beer wasn’t her preferred choice.”

  He met her gaze. “Yeah.”

  She did a quick stroke of his face with her knuckles. “Okay. Go get my beer.”

  She watched him stride down the hill, a handsome, fit man who caught female attention easily. He’d always been flirty inside the club, but she noticed here, out in the world, he didn’t seem to employ those talents. Was that because he was with her, and he was being respectful? Or was it more of what he’d discussed, that he needed a Domme not just to trip his trigger, but to inspire him to even switch it on?

  When he returned, she had another, lighter question for him. “So what happened to the high school girl? Were you together long?”

  He sat down on the bench, handing her the brown-bagged beer after he twisted open the top for her. “The usual run for a high school relationship. A few months. I heard her joking with her friends one day. Saying, ‘I just tell him, ‘Boy, on your knees. Get down there and take care of that.’ And he does. Girlfriends, he makes me see stars, no lie.’” He imitated the imperious female tone as he smiled around his beer. Regina rolled her eyes and elbowed him.

  “Hey, I’m just reporting the truth. She said the others were going at it all wrong. That if they ordered their boyfriends around, rather than letting them fumble and stumble, they’d both be happier.”

  Regina chuckled. “Sounds like you helped give a young woman a stunning amount of self-confidence.”

  “I think she already had that. She reminded me of you.”

  Regina cocked a brow. “Was she a black girl, you bad thing?”

  His lips quirked. “Yeah. But that wasn’t what reminded me of you. It was…what you just said. You’re always in charge, and so was she.”

  “Are you calling me a control freak?”

  His eyes sparkled. “No, ma’am. Seriously, I’m not. You don’t have a hang-up about relinquishing control, because it doesn’t matter. Even when you let go, you’re still on top. It’s who you are.”

  “We make sense then. Because there are plenty of times that stubborn nature of yours tries to take control, but you never top. You don’t have it in you, and that’s not a judgment.” She tapped her beer to his. “That’s a part of your personality. I like many parts of your personality, including that one. You can take the attempts at control too far, into some dark areas, but there are other times it’s fun, a challenge. I like a bad boy.”