Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (38 page)

They talked a bit about their jobs and social lives as if they’d never parted. But Pamela soon got him to focus.

“So, Marc, just why did you come here?”

Pamela had never been one to beat around the bush. “I just need to set some things right. Understand some things about myself better. I’ve screwed up a lot, including with you. Now I’ve met someone and just don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

Pain flashed in her eyes.
Merda
. He realized how selfish he’d been to come here. He’d made it all about him, not what Pamela needed.

“Pamela, I owe you an explanation for why I ran last year.”

“I think you made it very clear. I pushed too hard. I should have been happy to settle for what you could give without stirring the pot.”

Marc glanced away and ran his hands through his hair. He needed to unfuck this.

Force of will helped him return her gaze. “Pamela, you weren’t the one at fault. You should never settle. Your needs are just as important as your Dom’s, even more so.” He glanced down. “But it wasn’t you, Pamela. It was me. I’m sorry I left without much explanation, but I don’t think I could have explained what sent me running until I realized some things recently.”

Losing Angelina had brought a lot of things into focus, even though he still didn’t fully understand his behavior.

Pamela didn’t acknowledge that she’d heard him, but he couldn’t look at her.
Dio
, he’d never meant to hurt her. She deserved respect and some man’s undying love. He hoped she’d find what she needed someday.

“Listen, I’m just starting to figure out some things about myself and my past, and I’ve come to see now how badly I handled our parting. I seem to have a history of doing this and you didn’t deserve to have no explanation.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m still trying to learn how to be a Dom. I ran scared at the thought of being any woman’s Master, of having that much control over anyone. Hell, I barely have control over myself anymore.”

“It wasn’t about control, Marc. For me, being submissive is about serving someone I choose to give authority to. At one time, I thought that could be you.” She shrugged. “Most people don’t have a clue about those of us needing the Master/slave dynamic. There are so many negative connotations. But I know what I want.”

When he could speak again, all he could say was, “You always were direct, assertive. I admired that about you.”

She glanced away. “I accepted you as my Dom at first, but it wasn’t until I talked with Patti at the club that I figured out what was missing for me in our relationship. You and I came at M/s from two different perspectives. Her explaining that need to serve someone twenty-four/seven—to give up authority over everything, not just in the bedroom or club—just clicked for me. Unfortunately, we’d already gotten too far along a different path. Then, when I tried to renegotiate our dynamic, I freaked you out.” She grinned. “In a bad way.”

He relaxed. “I don’t guess most of us go into this lifestyle knowing what the hell we want, only that there’s something missing.” For him, that something had taken him a long time to discover. “You would not have been happy with me in the long run if a Master/slave relationship is what you needed. As your Dom, I would not have been able to let you settle for less.”

“How did you get into the lifestyle, Marc?”

Marc thought back to his introduction to BDSM. “Unlike most Doms who just know innately they have a need to dominate, I was thrust into the Scene by a guest at my parents’ resort. She wanted a Dom, and I guess I looked vulnerable enough to be coerced into meeting her needs.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Jesus, Marc, you weren’t even legal.”

Even without sex, what he’d done sounded pretty sordid. “There was never any sex with any of them.”

“You mean there were others?”

Marc nodded. He’d lost count. “I got a reputation over the next few years. Most were midlife-crisis, bored wives whose husbands sent them to the resort for weeks or months and ignored them.”

“That explains a lot.”

He looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever really thought about what you need in a power exchange, Marc. Whether it’s to be a Dom, a switch, a sub, or vanilla. You were forced into meeting other people’s needs before you’d even matured enough to know what you wanted or needed. Didn’t these cougars provide your training?”

“Not all of it. I worked with a number of Masters, including Adam, over the years.” He realized that had mostly been about learning techniques, though. He’d never really talked about what it meant to be a Dom. He wouldn’t even entertain the thought of anything else. He was a Dom. Giving up control to another person freaked him out in the worst way.

“I think when you can’t meet the needs—or demands—of the women you’re with, you run. Or distance yourself from them so that they leave you.”

There hadn’t been all that many women, but something she said seemed to ring true.

“You sound like a shrink.”

She grinned. “Psychology major in college. That makes my advice worth about five cents at Lucy Van Pelt’s sidewalk clinic.” She sobered. “Your needs, Marc, are a lot more complicated than you let on. I think you need to look at your issues with those cougars for starters. Then maybe look at your relationship with your mother.”

He hadn’t said anything about Mama or his past. He definitely hadn’t come here to be put on Freud’s couch and psychoanalyzed. She’d never even met his mother. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You used to have nightmares, Marc. You talked in your sleep—even screamed sometimes. You yelled at your mother and your big brother, begging them for something you were very upset about. I’m not sure which one has you the most tied up in knots—Mama or Gino.”

Marc had no clue what she was talking about until he remembered waking to the dream Christmas night. Angelina had said the same things. Many other nights, he remembered waking in a cold sweat with Pamela comforting him for reasons he didn’t understand.

Marc drained his glass and stood. “Listen, I’m not sure how we got off topic. I just stopped by to apologize if I’d hurt you and to make sure you’re okay.”

She untucked her foot and placed it flat on the floor as she leaned forward, staring up at him. “Marc, you need to forgive yourself and move on. I can’t say any magic words to make it all better. Whatever has been eating you—and don’t think I didn’t see it in you back then—is something you have to overcome. That vulnerability was one of the things that endeared you to me, but you have some serious wounds buried deep inside that need to be healed. You brought out the service submissive in me. I wanted to serve you and help ease your pain—maybe even discover its root cause.”

“I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

She stood and met him face-to-face. “I wasn’t offering pity, Marc, then or now. I was offering comfort. Healing. That’s what you need most.”

He wasn’t sure what kind of vibe he was sending out to make her think that about him, but he didn’t want to delve any further into his issues today. He needed to go for a hike or something to expend some pent-up energy.

“Pamela, you’re welcome at the club anytime. Patti and Grant asked about you for a long while.”

Pamela smiled. “How’s Grant doing? Still dominating a bunch of pantywaists?”

Marc grinned. “She does tend to attract weak malesubs. Not sure why.”

She grew serious. “Because she hasn’t come to terms with her past either. She doesn’t understand that the strong submissives have much more to offer than the doormats. Right now, she prefers the power trip of topping men—any men.”

Marc hadn’t really analyzed his Marine buddies’ motives in the lifestyle any more than his own. Maybe he wasn’t the only Dominant at the club trying to figure out what he—or she—wanted.

No, needed.

“Come to one of our monthly munches. You may find someone in the kink community who’s looking for what you have to give.”

“Marc, I don’t need you to help me find partners.”

“I know, but I feel a certain responsibility toward you.”

“That ended when we ended our D/s relationship. You don’t owe me anything.”

They stared at each other without speaking several moments. “I hope you find the Master you deserve someday, Pamela.”

He moved to leave, and then at the open doorway, he turned toward her. “You have a lot to offer any Master or Dom,
cara
. Don’t settle for anything less than what you need and want in a relationship.”

“Don’t let her get away, Marc, whoever she is. If she’s got you doing this much soul-searching, she must be something special.”

“She is.” Which is why he was scared shitless he’d fuck it up even worse with Angelina if he didn’t figure out what his problem was. Was he ready to talk with her yet?

No, he needed to have a talk with someone else first.

* * *

“What do you need, Doc?”

Marc looked across Adam’s desk and shifted in his seat. He always felt like a grunt trainee when facing his retired Master Sergeant across this massive desk.

“I have no clue.” Why had he come here? He’d lain awake the past several nights trying to sort out things for himself. Earlier this week, he’d come home to discover Angelina had removed Nonna’s vanity and some smaller things she’d left behind. She was gone. He’d found no sleep and no resolution to his problem.

Except in one area.

“Have you and Karla found a place to live yet?”

“No. The market’s got plenty of houses, but most exceed our budget. We keep scaling back in what our basic needs will be, but now we have to look at school systems and make sure the neighborhood is safe for kids. Sure was easier when I could just find a big-ass house in a neighborhood going through a renaissance and fix it up. We just don’t have time for that. Baby will be here in about two months and I won’t raise kids in a kink club.”

“How would you like to raise your family in a house like mine?”

“Focus, Doc. That’s way beyond our price range, and we aren’t moving in with you.”

Marc grinned. “Understandable but unnecessary. I’ve talked with Gramps. He understands it’s way more house than a bachelor needs.”

“You so sure you and Angelina won’t get back together and want to start a family of your own? I can see a lot of little D’Alessios running around that place in no time.”

Marc had never really thought about having kids so he didn’t share the same vision. Hell, he and Angelina weren’t even together anymore. “No, I’m not too keen on living in the city. I need someplace in the mountains.”

“That I can see.”

“Anyway, Gramps couldn’t think of anyone he wanted in the house more than me except you. He respects the hell out of you for your service to the same branch of the military he served in and for being there with Gino and then me when we, well, you know…”

Karla’s grandmother was pretty happy about it too when Gramps told her.

Adam and Karla would make that house into the home it should have been all along. Adam narrowed his eyelids. “I don’t need anyone giving me a house. I do have my pension—and my pride.”

“No!” Marc held up his hand to halt Adam’s thoughts and words. “I fully intend to sell you the house. Just name your price. Hell, I’m going to need to find another place. I just don’t need to sell it at market value. I didn’t put any money into it. So consider what you can afford, and it’s yours.”

Adam cleared his throat. “Karla loves that place. The view of the city, the playroom that’s private enough we can still fool around at home without worrying about the kids finding our toy room. Hell, she even loves that kitchen. Might get her to spend a little more time there.” He grinned and drummed his fingers on the desktop. “We could take one of the rooms, soundproof it, and give her a studio to work on her music. Being close to the baby will make it easier for her to pursue that without feeling guilty she’s spending too much time away from home.”

“Sounds like the perfect place for you, Adam.”

“Yeah, it does. Let me talk with Karla and get her okay first. Then I’ll make you an offer. Our Realtor can draw up the papers to make it all legal, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. I already feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” He did, too. That house had been like an albatross around his neck since the day he’d moved there. The only time it had seemed like a home was when Angelina was with him.

“You’ve solved one of my biggest problems, Doc. Now what can I do for you? Seems you’ve been spinning your wheels lately. Got your issues figured out?”

Could anyone get at the root of Marc’s issues? Marc didn’t even know what the problem was anymore. His conversation with Pamela had only left him more confused. What he feared most—losing Angelina—had happened, and he’d been paralyzed rather than going after her.

“When did you know you were a Dom?”

“Eleven or twelve, I guess. Playing with one of the girls in my class after school in her family’s garage. Tied her up. Good thing her parents thought we were playing cowboys and Indians or I’d have been arrested for the thoughts and feelings going through my mind and body that day.”

Marc smiled but didn’t have any such memories of his own coming of age. By then, he was content to spend more time alone in the woods than hanging out with girls. Was he a Dom? At the moment, he didn’t even care. There was more to his relationship with Angelina than kink. That was just for fun.

Suddenly he knew what he wanted. Maybe Adam would know how to get there.

“I need her back, but I don’t have the first clue how to do it. Karla left you once. How’d you get her back?”

The pain in his friend’s eyes was difficult to witness as Adam appeared to wander back to that time not so long ago. Marc turned away until Adam began to speak. He’d feel the same if he didn’t get his girl back.

“I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do when I found she’d left. I just knew at gut level I had to go after her. I roamed around this place all night and couldn’t stand to be without her another minute.”

Marc hadn’t even contacted Angelina after she’d left months ago. “I blew the chance. I guess I just expected her to come back to me. Now I know that’s not going to happen unless I act.”