“I know,” he snapped. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
Marcus had every right to get impatient with him, because he wasn’t making any sense. Rory braced himself for a deserved dose of New York sarcasm.
“Rory,” Marcus said quietly. “What’s the issue?”
“I’m the first relationship she’s had. That should be enough. Why am I trying to pile the Dom thing on top of it?”
“Because you are a Dom. And she’s undeniably a sub. Maybe your gut knows she’ll handle a Dom/sub relationship better than a vanilla one. That’s why you keep gravitating that way.”
“Or maybe it will set her back five years because the dickhead who wants her doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.” He took a breath. “It may be too soon. I think I should back off. Just be her friend. Leave the rest out of it.”
Less chance of fucking up that way. Fucking her up worse. It scraped him raw inside, thinking of not kissing her sweet mouth again. Closing his hands over her soft flesh. Seeing his touch make her eyes get confused with arousal. Instead of a single knife in the heart, all those thoughts together were like being thrown up against a wall of blades.
“I can help her go to school, get stronger.” He closed his eyes, his fist on the table back in a clench, but he forced out the words, no matter that his voice was as harsh as a winter wind. “She might be better with someone else.”
A long pause. “Yeah,” Marcus said. “You may be right. There are plenty of guys at the community college. Smart, getting degrees. They’ll be able to relate to her better. And they can take her dancing.”
“I can take her dancing.” Rory stared into space. “Prick.”
“Chickenshit.” But Marcus said it without any heat. “You remember when your mom decided Thomas and Daralyn would be the perfect match?”
“Yeah. Mom thought she was saving Thomas’s soul from the devil. Who, coincidentally, looked a lot like you.”
“I think she’s come around on that.”
“She’s accepted Thomas is gay. Not so sure she’s changed her mind about you being the devil.”
Snark aside, Rory remembered when his mother had pushed Thomas and Daralyn together. Thomas had been the first man Daralyn had felt comfortable around, though that hadn’t been a surprise to anyone. Thomas had a calm core to him that could settle the most aggressive of beasts. Like Marcus. Or win the trust of the most shy. Like Daralyn.
In no time, his mother had practically had Thomas and Daralyn engaged, at least in her mind. She’d wanted to deny Thomas was gay, head it off before it reached the point of no return. She’d come a long way since then, seeing past the religious doctrine she’d followed all her life to what God really was. That was the way she’d put it.
Marcus had decided to ignore his devil comment. “Thomas wasn’t your mother’s only issue,” he continued. “Daralyn didn’t see Thomas as a threat.”
“And I am?”
“You know that's not what I mean. There are two types of male threat to a woman. One is the bad kind. The other is the kind that gets her flustered, aroused. I suspect your mother worried Daralyn would never be able to handle a relationship with normal sexual expectations. But Thomas told me that every time Elaine pushed him and Daralyn together around you, you acted like an asshole. More than usual. Why was that?”
Truth? She’d made an impression on him from the first time she’d stayed with them. When she was sent away for the short period before the courts got a clue and awarded permanent guardianship to his parents, he’d felt her absence. A lot. Which should have told him something, because he and Emily had been a hot item back then.
He wouldn’t brush Marcus off with more bullshit when he was trying to help. “One night, she and Les were watching this movie in Les’s room. Chick flick, one of those Nicholas Sparks things. The one with Scott Eastwood.”
“Great ass. He’s a looker, just like his dad was at that age.”
“Gross. Anyhow,” Rory said with emphasis, over Marcus’s chuckle, “My room was at an angle from theirs, and I could see Daralyn. During those gushy love scenes, she’d touch her lips, and get this look on her face. It said to me she wanted something like that, no matter what her fucked-up family had done to her. And I thought, damn it all, why should Mom or anyone else think it’s okay