Perfect Hands #2
Raf never knew he needed a Daddy until he meets Daddy Brendan…
Adulting is hard for Raf. After a less than ideal youth, he’d hoped to find where he belongs. But despite trying several things in the club his best friend frequents, nothing clicks for him.
Until he meets Daddy Brendan, the perfect bear of a man with the gentle voice, the soft cuddles, and an appendage Raf is rather fascinated by.
Daddy Brendan wants to take care of Raf in every way, and Raf quickly discovered he loves being Daddy Brendan’s baby boy. He’s finally found where he belongs. If only he could forget about his past and be truly happy…
Gentle Hand is a daddy kink MM romance with age play and ABDL. Please note trigger warnings for mild homophobia, parental mistreatment, and depression. It’s the second book in the Perfect Hands series, but can be read as a stand-alone.
Prologue
Five Years Earlier
“What’s wrong, Raf?”
He was a total wuss, of course, for tearing up all over again at that simple question. It was just that Rhys’s voice was so warm and understanding, like it always was. The guy had the patience of a saint to put up with him. Fuck knew he was one of the few people who did.
“Raf?” Rhys said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Raf leaned into his touch, as he so often did. It helped Raf focus, that simple hand on his shoulder. Rhys was good with the touching thing, not caring if others thought it was weird or gay. He was out and proud, though not loud, as he always told Raf. To Rhys, being gay was who he was, and he saw no need to shout it from the rooftops. Rhys went about his life and ignored the occasional homophobic remark slung his way, something Raf desperately wanted to learn from him.
Not that he was out. God, no. He wanted to be, if only because pretending was so damn exhausting, but he couldn’t. He had to graduate first and be off to college, away from his father. There was no telling how the man would react to Raf coming out, though his guess was the meltdown would be of catastrophic proportions.
But he was getting distracted again instead of telling Rhys what was going on. Right. Focus, Raf.
“I got the diagnosis,” he said, raising his eyes and meeting those of his best friend, Rhys. Hell, his only friend. Many people liked him at first sight, but it never seemed to last. Rhys was the only one who’d stuck with him, and he didn’t even make it feel like it was a sacrifice. Raf felt that Rhys genuinely liked him, which was amazing and baffling at the same time.
Rhys lowered himself onto the bleachers next to him, where Raf had found a spot, pretending to be watching the cheerleaders practice. Their slim bodies twisted and turned, their faces always smiling as they practiced their tumbling and complicated routines. He’d watched them for a long time, his mind going to a hundred different places.
He sat here often, their practices somehow a comforting routine for him that beat the hell out of going home. No one looked at him twice on those bleachers. The cheerleaders barely noticed him anymore by now. Not that anyone believed him to be interested in girls in the first place. Still, it was all part of the pretense he had to keep up, at least until he graduated. If he even stood a chance at graduating after this. God, high school sucked.
Rhys’s hand found his and gently squeezed it. Right. Focus. Raf had to explain. “ADHD. That’s what I have. ADHD. They can give me pills or something, which can help, but that’s it.”
“It’s not the end of the world. Those meds can be very effective, so they may help you function much better than you do now. Get more sleep, maybe, be able to focus better.”
Raf looked sideways at Rhys, who studied him with kind eyes. “You don’t sound surprised.”
“I’m not. It’s not uncommon, you know, and I’ve had a suspicion for a while now.”
Raf slowly shook his head. “You never said anything.”
“No, because we both know that would’ve not gone over well. I’m your friend, not your fucking counselor or doctor, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
As much as Raf hated to admit it, Rhys had a point there. “Sorry,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed. It wasn’t the first time he wished he was more like his best friend, and it wouldn’t be the last time either.
“What did your parents say?”
Boy, there was a loaded question. Raf cringed as he remembered his father’s reaction. He’d always been of the yelling variety, but that outburst had taken it to a whole new level. “My mom was very sweet and understanding,” he offered, but of course, Rhys could read between the lines. He always did.
Rhys’s eyes softened as he put a hand on Raf’s thigh. “Wanna come hang out at my place for the weekend? My mom is away with some friends on a wine-tasting weekend or some shit, so it’s just me and my dad.”
Raf nodded instantly, gratitude flooding him.
“Awesome. Let’s leave your car here, and I’ll drop you off Monday morning.”
Raf let out a sigh. It was so much better when someone else made those practical decisions for him.
“You know what’s so frustrating?” he asked a few minutes later when they were driving to Rhys’s house. “When my dad gets so angry with me, it only makes things worse. Thinking is hard enough for me as it is, but when he starts yelling, it’s like my brain shuts down. I become this stuttering, fumbling idiot who can’t string two coherent sentences together and who drops everything he touches.”
Rhys’s right hand left the steering wheel for a second and squeezed his thigh again. “I know. Just a few more months, Raf, and then you’re off to college.”
Raf bit his lip. “What if my grades aren’t good enough? What if I don’t get accepted because of this?”
Rhys shot him a quick look sideways. “There are many guys like you who get into college. If they’d reject everyone with ADHD, they’d have barely anyone left.”
A smile broke through on Raf’s face. “That’s BS, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“You’ll get into college, I promise,” Rhys said.
Raf sighed. “You always have more faith in me than I have in myself. God, sometimes I wish I could love you, you know?”
Rhys brought a hand to his heart and faked being shot. “Are you saying my undying love is unrequited? You’ve mortally wounded me!”
Raf grinned. Rhys was so funny and sweet at the same time. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, you’re saying that if I were twenty years older, you’d totally do me.”
“Dude, if I were twenty years older, you’d be all over me,” Raf fired back.
They grinned at each other, both comfortable knowing what they liked. Oh, they’d kissed once, back when their friendship was new and they discovered they were both gay, but they’d agreed that had been an experiment they would never, ever repeat. Nope, they shared an affinity for older men and were unashamed about it—at least to each other.
“Oh, Cornell is here.” Rhys pointed at the car that belonged to Cornell Freeman, his father’s best friend. Raf, who wasn’t the most perceptive, noticed an edge to his voice. Usually, he would’ve blurted something out about Rhys liking him, but because Rhys had been amazing enough to offer him a safe haven for the weekend, he held back. With effort, because holy crap, Rhys liking his dad’s best friend was interesting.
“Nice,” he said because he had to say something, and dammit, Cornell was nice.
Rhys’s father—Jonas—and Cornell were hanging out on the deck with a couple of cold beers, the barbecue already fired up. Their conversation stopped abruptly when Rhys and Raf walked in. What had they been talking about?
“Hey, Dad,” Rhys said. “Is it okay if Raf stays with us for the weekend?”
Jonas’s eyes were kind as he sent Raf an encouraging smile. “Sure. It’s always a pleasure to have you around, Raf.”
Now, why the fuck couldn’t he have a dad like that?
“Thank you.” It was the polite thing to say, even if he knew it wasn’t needed here. They wouldn’t ream him out here if he forgot to say thank you, or forgot to turn the lights off, or forgot to close the garage door, or forgot any of the hundred things he was supposed to remember, but his brain refused to.
“Hey, Cornell.” There was that edge again in Rhys’s voice. Raf bit his lip from saying anything. because that would be unforgivable.
“Hey, kiddo,” Cornell said, shooting both of them a lazy smile. Gah, he was hot with his lean body, those gray hairs that peppered his dark hair, and a pair of blue eyes that were always kind. Then again, Jonas wasn’t bad looking either, though Raf would never admit that to Rhys. There were things you shouldn’t say about someone’s dad, that much even he knew.
“We’ll be in my room, Dad,” Rhys announced.
“I’m making ribs, so come down in an hour or so ‘cause they’ll be ready,” Jonas said.
“Cornell is hot,” Raf said as soon as they were in Rhys’s room, his attempt at being poking him a little to see what he could stir up. Rhys, of course, saw straight through him.
“You picked up on that?” he said with a hint of panic. “Oh god, I hope he didn’t notice. If you saw, that means I wasn’t being very subtle about it. Crap.”
Raf’s face broke open in a wide smile. “You really like him.” He kept his voice low.
Rhys rolled his eyes at him but then settled himself on his bed, with Raf finding a spot to lounge on the floor like he usually did. He could never sit long anyway, and the floor offered more room to move.
“I do.” Raf felt a flash of triumph that he’d called it. “But please, promise me you won’t say anything to anyone. It’s crazy. He’s my dad’s best friend, and he’s way too old for me. It’s just a crush.”
Raf held up both hands with his index and middle finger crossed. “I swear. I know my filter malfunctions often, but I’d never embarrass you like that. But why would he be too old? I thought you liked older guys?”
Rhys let out a groan. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… I really like him, and it’s annoying because he’ll never see me as more than his best friend’s kid, you know? He’s known me since I was a baby.”
“He’s single, though, right? And gay?” Raf was proud he could remember Rhys had told him as much, even if the exact details were lost on him.
Rhys nodded. “His boyfriend dumped him after cheating on him. I heard my mom and dad talk about it.”
“Poor guy.” Raf spared a short thought for his father, who he’d seen banging their neighbor, the one with the fake tits that didn’t even bounce when she played tennis. She was nice enough, though a little too perky and happy for his taste, and she baked the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, but he didn’t get what his dad saw in her or why he had to cheat on his mom like that. Then he shrugged. Not his problem, and he wasn’t stepping into that mess, if only out of sheer survival instinct.
“You never know what could happen,” Raf said. “Things can change.”
As cliché as it was, it did seem to cheer Rhys up a bit. “You’re right. I shouldn’t give up.”
That made Raf sad, for some reason. Maybe it was because he knew that even if Rhys didn’t end up with Cornell—and he had to admit the chances were slim—he’d find someone else who was great and perfect for him. There was no way a guy like him would stay single.
“Who would ever want me?” he said, the sadness flooding him now. “I’m such a hot mess.”
Rhys lifted a single eyebrow. “Yeah, with the emphasis on hot. Have you seen your ass lately? Dude, give it time. You’ll find your way through this diagnosis, through life. You just have to find how and where you fit in.”
“What if I don’t fit anywhere?” Raf asked, his voice trembling a little. “The only person I’ve ever felt at home with is you. What if I’ll never find that with anyone else?”
Rhys lowered himself onto the floor on his belly as well, their faces close. “If I tell you a secret, can you promise me to never, ever tell anyone?”
Raf nodded instantly, but Rhys put his hand on Raf’s. “I’m serious. This is not something you can blurt out at any given time, okay?”
Raf hesitated at Rhys’s serious tone, then nodded again, but much more slowly. “I promise.”
“I think my parents are getting a divorce.”
Raf’s eyes widened. “Oh no!” he whispered.
“But that’s not even the secret. I’ve found out that they’re in an unusual relationship. They’re Domme and submissive.”
This time, Raf’s mouth dropped open, and he didn’t close it until drool pooled in his mouth. “They’re what?”
“My mom is a Domme, and my dad is her submissive. And Cornell is a submissive as well.”
Talk about a bombshell. Raf shook his head, something he often did to force himself to follow one line of thought and not let the chaos in his head overwhelm him.
“So your mom, like, whips your dad and stuff?” he asked, his voice filled with awe.
“I don’t know what they do exactly, but maybe? Not sure I want to know. But I overheard them talking about it when they didn’t know I was home.”
Yeah, Raf wasn’t sure he wanted more details either. Sex was weird enough to think about, let alone sex like that. And yet, at the same time, the idea tickled him. “How do you know they’re getting a divorce?”
Rhys’s face grew tight. “They’re always fighting lately,” he said softly. “It’s not much fun to be around them. They pretend everything is fine, but it’s not. I think they’re waiting for me to graduate and leave for college.”
Raf leaned in and rubbed Rhys’s hand against his cheek. “I’m sorry. That must make you sad.”
“It does, but this fighting drives me crazy as well, so by now, I’m over it.”
“But why did you tell me this? Not the divorce thing, but the whole Domme/sub thing.”
“Because I thought you’d find comfort in knowing that even if it turns out you don’t fit in with the vanilla folks, there’s a whole world for you to explore.”
Sunday's Safe Word Shelf
Nora Phoenix is a bestelling author of MM romance. She writes in various subgenres of gay romance, including contemporary, mpreg, and sci fi. Nora is known for a mix of steamy romance, usually a dash of kink, all the feels, and some suspense.
Proud single mom. Book addict. Eternal optimist. Unapologetic feminist. Ace. Panromantic.
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EMAIL: nora@noraphoenix.com
Gentle Hand #2
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