“Nope. Lalalalala…”
Marcus grinned and brought the conversation back to topic. “You love her.”
“Yeah. I do.” Simple, straightforward.
“How much?” Marcus’s face went blank, no cues. Which meant Rory looked for the answer inside the limitless well of feeling the question inspired.
“Like whatever God is,” he said. “More than I understand or know, but want to spend a lifetime finding out.”
At the surprise in Marcus’s face, Rory lifted a shoulder. “My mother’s belief in God looks different from mine or Thomas’s, but she and my dad taught us the important parts. It’s there, if you listen for it. When this happened to me,” he touched the push rim of his chair, “I had to become a way more active listener.”
“Well said.”
“Thanks.” Uncomfortable with the praise, Rory pressed on. “You’re going to give me books, homework. Okay, fine. But tell me the traps and pitfalls. I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“You’re going to do the wrong thing, make mistakes.”
“She’s had enough of that in her life. I want to do my damnedest not to add to it. Tell me where it’s likely to happen.”
Marcus pursed his lips. “Fair enough. There’s a fine line between being an alpha asshole and being the Dom a sub needs. So you coming here today, to try and learn, that’s smart. Daralyn is a submissive with a lot of unknowns, in terms of how she’ll react to any relationship, let alone a Dom/sub one. You’ll need to be even more intuitive than most Doms on picking up cues.”
“I can do that.” He already was. And though they both knew what they were talking about, Marcus actively using the language—Doms, subs—took it to a different level. Made it real. He was really doing this, going down this road. No more hypotheticals. “What else?”
“Don’t back away from your instincts by second guessing yourself,” Marcus said bluntly. “Which often happens because you’re worrying about the first mistake. It’s trickier terrain, because sometimes the way you need to react looks a lot like the alpha asshole.”
“Hmm.” Rory thought that through. “Like when Thomas told you that the two of you were done, and not to come after him. But you did anyway.”
“You do pay attention, Padawan. Better than I give you credit for.”
“So how do you know when you’ve stepped into the shit of the first mistake?”
“You don’t always. But when police and restraining orders get involved, it’s a good bet that you’re in that territory.” Marcus chuckled. “Seriously, just read what I send you, stay aware of her cues, and follow your instincts. But no matter how you try, Rory, you are going to make mistakes. Don’t overreact to them. Just think it through, and change the strategy. Don’t abort and retreat when it’s not necessary. That can be equally bad. There’s a reason they put a safety net under the high wire. It cushions the fall, helps a person get back up there again.”
He’d had to learn the same lesson for his chair. Mistakes happened, and getting bogged down in the failure or embarrassment didn’t help anything.
“Okay.” He pushed his wheel forward and back, thinking. “Should I…uh…go to one of those clubs?”
When he’d looked at that kind of thing online, it hadn’t grabbed him. Marcus’s suggestion about his parents might be unsettling, but the structure he’d described struck a very real chord. Maybe the truth for him and Daralyn was somewhere in that realm.
“One day, if you want to, sure,” Marcus responded. “But what’s between you and Daralyn at this moment might not be ready for that. If the reading material isn’t enough, though, there’s a BDSM group in Charlotte. They hold a Dom/sub 101 class every month, and it doesn’t matter if they have one attendee or fifty, the class happens. You can go to one by yourself, or with Thomas and me.”
Marcus offered him a pointed look. “Just keep in mind, while the building blocks are essential, a big part of it is beyond knowledge or understanding. It’s feeling and instinct. It’s learning to find the balance. Plus working on trusting yourself and her.”
He tipped his head toward Thomas, sending his husband and submissive a warm glance. “That’s the biggest key of all.”
Another good thing about Marcus; the guy didn’t beat a dead horse. He knew when enough had been said for the time being. Thomas returned to the porch soon after that, and Rory hung with them for a short while. They talked about more casual things. When Marcus and Thomas shifted to dinner plans, Rory declined the invitation to join, deciding to head for home.
As they went inside, Thomas gave him the fond mix of you’re a shithead and I’ve got your back older brother look. Marcus held the door for him, then nodded before he stepped in behind Thomas. The look he sent Rory was different, but one Rory might as well go ahead and call what it was.
Dom to Dom.
He pushed himself around the side of the house, headed for the access ramp. About the time he reached it, a pickup truck slowed down on the road. It belonged to Ralph Peterson, the farmer who lived near Marcus and Thomas.
When the truck came to a full stop about fifty feet past the house, Daralyn emerged from the passenger side. She said something to Ralph, raised her hand in farewell.
As she turned, she had her head down. She made a beeline for her little house, her backpack hugged close to her body. She didn’t look toward the main house, as if that would keep her from being noticed. Rory suspected it was also why she’d had Ralph drop her farther down the road.
By the time she’d reached her door, Rory heard the front screen door squeak open behind him. Their footsteps told him Thomas and Marcus had moved around the corner to join him.
“She’s home pretty early,” Thomas said. “Her classes weren’t supposed to finish until nine.”
“Yeah. Damn it.” More of the anger bled into his voice than he’d intended. Thomas put a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t get after her about it. It’s bound to be tough--”
“You think I’m pissed at her?” Rory shrugged off his hand, glared at his brother. “Damn it, I knew this afternoon. This was too much, too soon. She needed a backup.”
“Rory, she has to stumble,” Thomas said. “You can’t catch her every time she falls.”
“I can’t catch her at all, most the time. So it makes it even worse when I don’t catch her when I know I can.”
“Maybe you should give her the night,” his brother persisted. “Talk to her about it tomorrow, when you feel less worked up about it, too.”
Rory glanced at Marcus’s face, which had gone expressionless. Letting Rory figure it out. Make the decision.
“Yeah. Maybe.” As he took the ramp to the ground level, he was pointed toward the road and home, but he didn’t head that way. He thought of the backpack, full of supplies she’d picked out with such excitement and pleasure. Les had gone with her, when his sister was home for her last break.
Marcus and Thomas had given Daralyn the community college tuition as a Christmas gift, but Daralyn had missed the winter, spring and summer registration periods. When she’d finally signed up for the fall classes, it had been after doubling up on her bi-monthly sessions with her psychiatrist. Even so, this was going to feel like a major setback to her. But it wasn’t.