Obeying Rowen

by Becca Jameson

  “And I’m not even in the same home,” he joked, nervously pacing his living room floor.

  “If you were, I would be horrible company. I can hardly hold the phone to my ear at this point.”

  What the hell had she done all day? Her job must be taxing. Whatever it was, she had worn a skirt, though… Hmm…

  He deepened his voice intentionally. “I guarantee you if I were there with you, you would find a second wind.”

  “Mmm. I believe you. Just the idea makes me tingle.”

  He smiled. Good.

  “Sir, I have a confession. I didn’t touch myself again today after this morning. I didn’t manage four times. There wasn’t an opportunity.”

  “That’s okay, sweet girl. Sometimes life gets in the way. The fact that you were honest about it is what matters. How does tomorrow look for you? I hope your day isn’t as jam-packed.”

  “No. I’ll probably sleep late and then work from home.”

  Doing what? Why didn’t she just tell him? This was getting crazier by the day. “That sounds like a good plan. Text me when you wake?”

  “Of course, Sir. First thing. Thank you.”

  “Sleep, sweet girl.”

  “Good night, Sir.” Her voice was already trailing off as she said those last words, and then she was gone.

  Rowen made his way to his bedroom and climbed into bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time. He didn’t know enough about Faith Robbins. He had nothing except the bones she’d thrown at him in the last few days. And he needed to hold his shit together and give her more days. She had his list of questions. She would answer the ones she felt comfortable with in her own time.

  And what if she didn’t? He needed to be prepared for that eventuality. Either that or the possibility he wouldn’t be able to live with the answers. No matter how hard he tried to imagine what secrets she could possibly have that would turn someone away, he came up blank. Nevertheless, she must have thought her private life was too horrifying to share. And that alone should give him pause. It did give him pause.

  There were too many holes. He reminded himself that he knew several things about her—she had been married to a Dom, she’d started her foray into BDSM as a Domme, she was sexy, and she could submit like an angel. There were still many variables.

  Chapter 14

  It was ten in the morning before Rowen got a text from Faith, and he was with a client, so he could do nothing more than glance at it.

  When his client left, he sat back down at his desk and took a deep breath. There was an email from her also. It had come in about thirty minutes after the text. He was anxious to read it. Which questions would she have answered this morning?

  I’m feeling generous today. Lucky you:

  I don’t need to dominate to feel whole. You’ve probably figured that out by now. I don’t need to dominate at all. I’ve used domination as a way to scratch an itch at times in my life when I’ve been too scared to bottom for anyone.

  I’m not really a switch either. I can be. But honestly I would say my life has been divided into three phases of practice: dominating before I met Victor, submitting to Victor, and dominating after his death. Until this week.

  I’m sorry to repeatedly bring up my husband, but if you want to know the answers to these questions, he was an integral part of who I am. There’s no way to avoid it. Don’t mistake my mentioning him as me not being over him. I’ve made peace with my loss. I didn’t return to Breeze until I had. It took more than a year.

  On that note, I did service my husband in many ways. We had a unique relationship that had to change and evolve when he was deployed. It was easy to take care of our home when he was stateside because I was used to doing it anyway. He hardly knew where anything was.

  That being said, it was an arrangement that worked for us. I can’t say it would necessarily work for me if I were ever in a long-term relationship again.

  Public exposure—Victor insisted I was the sexiest woman alive, and he liked to show me off at the club. I think he wanted to make other people jealous. He never shared me or let anyone else touch me. (And, for the record, I would never want to be shared either.)

  All of this was circumstantial, mind you. I had been a member of Breeze for a long time. I had seen nearly everyone who belongs to Breeze naked at some point in time. I might not feel the same way about Zodiac for a while. My comfort level isn’t there. Besides, if I showed up at Zodiac as a submissive right now, all heads would turn in confusion. Lol.

  Humiliation—it has its place. Within an agreed-upon scene it can be integrated. Would I want to be shouted at in public? Fuck no.

  Rowen was stunned by everything she’d given him. He was also more than aware of everything she did not give him.

  Perhaps she didn’t have much to tell about her family and friends, making mentioning them seem unnecessary. But her job. That was another story. Nope. She was intentionally withholding those two huge elephants.

  He also found it curious that she insisted she was over her husband, vehemently, as if she needed to convince herself instead of him. He suspected she still carried a lot of emotional baggage when it came to Victor. And there was nothing wrong with that. It was completely understandable. They hadn’t divorced. He’d died and left her mid-relationship.

  It was only natural she would still have feelings for him. She might even be angry at him for leaving her. Or, she might feel guilt for moving on. Rowen’s only concern with regard to those possibilities was that Faith’s perspective was perhaps skewed. If she was still beating herself up over lingering feelings for him, that could pose a problem.

  He picked up his phone and called her.

  She was out of breath when she answered. “Hey. Sorry. I was jogging. Just got back to my apartment.”

  “Do you want to call me back?”

  “No.” She dragged in a deep breath. “I’m okay. Really. I…like talking to you…Sir.”

  He smiled. Every time she gave him an inch, it warmed his heart. He felt like he was on a pogo stick bouncing up and down over and over between convincing himself she was not interested in him enough to divulge personal information and then rethinking his doubts when she said things like that.

  “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What’s the matter?” He hadn’t heard her explode like that yet, and what caused her mood to switch so suddenly?

  “My damn mother is at the door,” she whispered. “Thank God I still have my workout clothes on. Gotta call you back.” She hung up.

  Leaving him stunned. He was shocked at the first mention of a family member. But more importantly he was reeling at the way she referred to her mother. My damn mother… Who spoke that way about their mom?

  He had to shake himself out of his stupor because his next client was at the door.

  After another hour of dealing with one of his wealthiest clients, he was even more frazzled. He’d spent the entire time listening to the older gentleman discuss the merits of hiding his money in an offshore bank to avoid paying his fair share of taxes.

  The man was rich. His type was responsible for the bile that often rose in Rowen’s throat when he encountered rich people. When a client like that came to his office and arrogantly discussed how to hoard his money, it made Rowen sick and reinforced his disgust with the wealthy. What was wrong with people? He hated the reminder. It put him in a bad mood.

  As soon as the man left, Rowen sank back in his desk chair and ran a hand over his face. His mood didn’t lighten as he remembered Faith’s words. And her tone. My damn mother…

  It was like a mantra that never stopped running over and over again. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Did Faith have no respect for her parents? Hell, he still didn’t know if she had a father. If her father was no longer living or if he was out of the picture, even worse. That kind of loss should make a person appreciate their other parent even more.

  What he’d heard was a total lack of respect oozing from Faith’s wealthy, disg
runtled lips. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t want anything to do with it.

  He shoved from his desk and stomped to the kitchen to grab a beer. Fuck the fact that it was barely noon. He needed something to calm him down. A beer or two always helped.

  He’d told Faith he never lost his temper. At the moment, his fuse was so short, he was afraid he might have lied. He opened his patio door and stepped out onto the balcony. The air was hot and muggy, as usual for Miami, but it at least felt real. It hit him in the face, bringing his awareness back to earth.

  Settling on one of the two patio chairs that flanked a small table, he leaned back, took another swig of his beer, and sighed.

  My damn mother…

  Was he reading too much into things? Judging Faith without having all the facts? He ran a hand through his hair and reminded himself of the very facts he did know.

  She had money. She hadn’t discussed it with him. She had a mysterious job she also had avoided discussing. She hadn’t mentioned a single family member except to finally berate one. Her mother at that.

  Perhaps Faith had been less than authentic with him for the last few days. She’d seemed so genuine. But maybe she was just another rich woman who didn’t value the blessings she had in life.

  He wanted to shake some sense into her. But he wouldn’t. It wasn’t worth it. She was a grown woman. If she wanted to guard her secrets and talk shit about her mom, who was he to stand in the way?

  Of course, that also meant he didn’t want to stand anywhere near her. He’d left his phone on his desk where it had sat upside down during his meeting and remained in that spot still. He was afraid to see if she had called or texted. Ignorance was his current last measure of bliss.

  Whatever she divulged to him next would change everything.

  When he finally had himself talked down from the ledge enough to take several deep breaths and act like a rational human being, he went back inside, dropped the empty bottle in the recycling bin, and trailed back to his office.

  There were two texts from Faith.

  Sorry, Sir, for cutting you off before.

  And an hour after that one:

  Have I done something wrong, Sir?

  Her texts didn’t soothe him. They got under his skin. His entire spine stiffened. Perhaps he never should have taken her under his wing. The truth was she was probably a spoiled rich girl he would want nothing to do with in the long run.

  He needed more time to calm down before he contacted her. If he called or texted her now, he would likely lash out and be unable to give her the benefit of the doubt. But what could she say to fix my damn mother?

  It was Wednesday. He had filled several of the dungeon monitor time slots for later that night. Since he didn’t have any more clients to see, he decided to head to the club. He had accounting to do there anyway. And payroll. Getting out of the house would do him good.

  Several hours later, Lincoln stepped into his office, sauntered really, hands in his pockets. “You’re here early.”

  Rowen glanced up from his computer screen, knowing his brow was furrowed in frustration. “I needed to do payroll.”

  “And the numbers aren’t adding up? You look like you’re ready to launch the computer across the room.”

  Rowen sighed, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. “The payroll is fine. It’s done.”

  Lincoln lowered himself onto the chair across from Rowen’s desk. “Then something else is bothering you.”

  “What are you, my shrink?” There was no need to get his hackles up, but he couldn’t stop himself. At Lincoln’s raised eyebrow, Rowen rolled his neck. “I made some bad decisions.”

  “Okay. I’m going to assume your choices aren’t related to the stock market, but rather one very powerful small woman with long blond hair.”

  “Yep.”

  “I gathered from Sasha that you were involved with Faith.”

  “Sasha has a big mouth.”

  “Sasha is my woman. We don’t keep secrets.” Lincoln leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  Rowen nodded. “You’re right. I’m being a dick. Ignore me. This isn’t about Sasha.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Lincoln didn’t move an inch. Rowen knew him well enough to realize this subject was not closed and wouldn’t be as long as Rowen continued to hold his tongue.

  “When we left your office Saturday night, I made the mistake of inviting Faith to my office. What I should have done was keep my distance and walk away.”

  Lincoln leaned back in his chair. “Why was it a mistake?” Was he grinning?

  “I’ll be honest. I’m attracted to her. Physically. Hell, emotionally too. I thought I could dominate her and help bring her back to submission.”

  “How did you know she was submissive?” Now Lincoln was full-on smirking.

  Rowen rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend you didn’t see the same signs.”

  Lincoln chuckled. “You’re right. I was aware she was at least a switch. She can dominate anyone like nobody’s business, but when she isn’t playing the role of Domme, she carries herself like a seasoned submissive.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, what happened? Were we both wrong?”

  “Fuck no. We were right. That’s half the problem. She’s the consummate submissive. I’ve probably done more harm than good for her this week. After bringing her to her knees right here in my office, I had the bright idea to make an arrangement with her to help her get back to her authentic self.” He realized his voice oozed sarcasm.

  “And…”

  “I proposed she submit to me for the entire week by phone. I haven’t had any physical contact with her. Unfortunately, there were red flags from the beginning. I knew it even while I made the proposition. I thought I could keep my heart out of the arrangement and simply give her what she needed.”

  “Your heart.” Lincoln sat up straighter. “This is serious.” He wasn’t laughing.

  “It would be ridiculous to argue otherwise. If I didn’t care about her, it wouldn’t hurt so badly.” He felt like he was giving up his man card by having this conversation with Lincoln. They were close friends. The best. But this was more personal than they usually went.

  “What are the red flags?”

  “First of all, she’s wealthy.” Rowen held out a hand to keep Lincoln from interrupting. “And before you say anything, remember who you’re talking to. I hate money. It gets under my skin and rubs me wrong. I could tell by her clothing and the way she handles herself that she has money.

  “I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter because this arrangement is temporary. But it grates on me anyway. I keep thinking at any moment she’s going to say or do something to reinforce my beliefs about rich people. They usually can’t help themselves.”

  Lincoln sighed. “Not all people with money are assholes.”

  “That may be true, but I can’t say I have a pile of good examples to the contrary. Which is why I’m hesitant. And frustrated.”

  “Because you like her.”

  Rowen’s shoulders fell. “Right. Anyway, there’s another issue, and that’s her family.”

  Lincoln winced. “Strike two with Rowen Easton. Do. Not. Mess. With. Family.” He grinned. Lincoln knew him well. Rowen was fierce about family, especially since his only living relative was his sister. Both his parents were gone, and he had no other extended family members.

  “Honestly, the red flags exist because Faith won’t discuss either subject. She hasn’t mentioned money or even told me where she works. She also hasn’t mentioned her family. Until this morning when she hung up with me because, and I quote, ‘my damn mother is at the door.’”

  Lincoln cringed. “Okay, but maybe you don’t know all the details.”

  “Oh, that’s for sure. How the fuck could I know the details? She keeps her lips pursed together on both subjects at all times, leaving me with no choice but to assume the worst.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  Rowen sm
irked. “Oh, yes. That was part of our arrangement. I sent her a list of questions Sunday morning with instructions to answer two of them a day. She has covered nearly the entire list while leaving out the first two questions entirely. Family and job.”

  “Yikes. Okay, instead of freaking out and assuming the absolute worst, I think you need to talk to her. If she still won’t provide info, cut her loose. That would bother anyone. Not just you.”

  Rowen nodded. “I know. You’re right.” Perhaps that was why he had avoided her all day. He knew his next step had to be to push those two issues. And if she failed, it was over. He was dragging his feet.

  Movement at the door made Rowen lift his gaze just as Sasha stepped in. “Hey. There you are. I was wondering where everyone was.” She strolled across the room and set her hands on Lincoln’s shoulders, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Everything okay?”

  Rowen knew he was still frowning, so when Sasha lifted a brow and met his gaze, he didn’t have time to school it.

  Lincoln pushed to standing and cupped Sasha’s face. “I have some things to take care of before we open. How about you pull your brother out of his funk and I’ll see you in a bit?” He gave her a quick peck on the lips and left the office.

  Sasha tipped her head to one side and slid onto the seat Lincoln had vacated. “What’s up?”

  Rowen leaned back and tapped his desk with his fingers, staring at them. His mind wandered back in time. After a long silence, which his sister graciously granted, he spoke. “Remember when Mom used to make you wear that orange beanie to school in the winter?”

  Sasha laughed. “God, yes. It was awful. That thing was so ugly. This is Miami for heaven’s sake. No one needed a knit cap even in the winter. She thought I would catch cold. What I caught was a lot of flak from the other kids.”

  Rowen smiled. “You never put up much of a fight with her,” he pointed out.

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t worth it. Would have hurt her feelings and caused a fight. Instead, I just rolled my eyes, wore the darn hat, and then pulled it off when I got out of sight. I don’t think she ever found out.”