Vulnerable [Suncoast Society] (Suncoast Society #29)(8)

“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.