Obeying Rowen

by Becca Jameson

  “Yeah, that’s how I remembered it. She may have been a single parent, but she commanded respect.”

  “She sure did. It never would have occurred to me to openly defy her.”

  “She was a great mom,” he whispered, glancing away, his eyes watering.

  “The best.” Sasha sighed. “You okay? What brought this on?”

  He shrugged. “I was just thinking about the value of family.” He leaned forward, knowing he was about to get overly sentimental. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Yeesss…” She furrowed her brow. “You have never let me go a day without making sure I knew I was loved. Even though you were too young to take on a twelve-year-old girl, you did it anyway. And I love you for it.”

  He swallowed, holding his breath.

  “Rowen?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her, forcing a small smile.

  “Is everything okay? You haven’t answered me. You seem off.”

  He took a sharp breath in and sat up straight, pushing his sentimentality to the side and facing her head on. “Everything is great.”

  “You’re sure?” She didn’t look convinced.

  “Positive.”

  Chapter 15

  Faith was extremely nervous as she stepped out of the Uber at Club Zodiac and headed for the entrance. Tonight she was already dressed for the role she intended to play, wearing a lightweight rain coat over her clothes to avoid shocking the Uber driver.

  Perhaps less conspicuous was the black bag she carried by her side. This night could go one of two ways. In either case, she needed the contents of the shopping bag.

  When she stepped inside, Carter smiled at her. She didn’t waste any time. There was no point in pretending she was there for any other reason. “Hi, Carter. Is Rowen here?” She held her breath while she waited for him to answer. She figured her chances were good. The club was only open Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. But maybe he didn’t come in every night they were open.

  “I think so. I haven’t seen him, but Lincoln said he was upstairs. I’ll call him for you.” Carter reached for his cell.

  But Lincoln suddenly approached and stopped him. “It’s okay. I’ll escort Faith upstairs.”

  Faith’s shaky hands started to sweat, so she stuck them in her coat pockets. What did Lincoln know? Or was she reading too much into this?

  As Lincoln opened the door that led upstairs for her, she prayed silently she wasn’t making a mistake. She and Rowen had agreed not to see each other this week. But that was before he stopped talking to her earlier.

  She was uneasy about the abrupt ghosting. He’d never gone more than about an hour without responding to her by text or email or phone. She understood he had clients to see and jobs to do, but this was unlike him. And she honestly didn’t think he would be pissed simply because she had to hang up with him to answer the door. That was uncharacteristic.

  Her heartrate increased as she got closer to Rowen’s open office door.

  Finally, Lincoln announced her as they rounded the corner. “You have a guest.”

  Rowen stood facing the windows, but he spun around when Lincoln spoke. “Hey.” He looked genuinely surprised. “Come in.”

  She took two more steps forward, and then flinched when Lincoln shut the door behind her, leaving her alone with Rowen. “Hi.” Her voice was too soft. She was downright scared, and she hadn’t felt this way for a long time.

  Breathe.

  For a moment, they stared at each other. And then Rowen shook himself out of his apparent trance and motioned her forward. “Come. Sit.” He rounded to the loveseat and sat on one end, patting the other side.

  His gaze wandered to the bag she held at her side as she lowered it to the floor and left it there before following his instructions.

  Nerves made her grateful she was no longer standing. She held her coat around her though, also grateful for its existence. If things went badly, he never needed to know what she wore under the barrier.

  He angled his body to face her more fully, but he didn’t speak. He was waiting for her to speak first.

  She licked her lips. “I assume I did something to upset you, Sir.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m afraid I can’t properly apologize because I don’t know what I did. Are you mad that I hung up with you to answer the door?” If that was the case, this experiment was over. She could submit in many ways to a Dom, but not being permitted to open the front door to her mother was going too far.

  His head jerked back and his frown deepened. “Of course not. I’m not that unreasonable, Faith. My concerns are much bigger than that. You simply reinforced everything I’ve been worrying about when your mother arrived.”

  She swallowed. She still didn’t know what he was talking about, but goose bumps crawled up her spine in warning. She had secrets. She was super clear she’d intentionally not shared many things with him. But why had he suddenly taken such a firm response to her silence after days of patience?

  “Faith, your unwillingness to share personal details is more than I can tolerate. I thought I could handle it. I thought if I gave you time, you would come clean on your own. I thought if I proved to you that I’m trustworthy, you would open up. But that hasn’t happened. Maybe I shouldn’t give a single solid fuck. But I do, and that makes all the difference.”

  He cares… She licked her lips again, unable to come up with the right words. She didn’t even know where to start. But she sure didn’t want to sabotage this potential relationship with her stupid silence.

  When she didn’t utter a word, he continued. “My patience ran out, Faith. I’m sorry. I know I said I would let you have this entire week, but it turns out I lied. Your time is up.”

  “Why?” What was the rush?

  He pushed to his feet and paced the room, running a hand through his thick hair. “When I proposed this arrangement to you Saturday night, my intentions were to help guide you back to your authentic self. I could see in your stance, your demeanor, even your eyes, that you needed a firm Dom to help get you back on track. I lied to myself. I lied to you. For that I apologize.”

  She didn’t move an inch, but tears welled up in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  He grabbed the chair across from his desk and set it facing her on the other side of the coffee table. Instead of sitting in it however, he stood behind it, gripped the back of it, and leaned forward. His own barrier between them.

  “This isn’t a game for me, Faith. I knew that from the moment I first saw you in the club weeks ago. It’s not just a series of scenes. You know it. I know it. We click. There’s a magnetism between us I’ve never felt with another woman before. I’ve been kidding myself for days, denying how I felt.

  “I want you, Faith. All of you. I don’t care that we didn’t officially meet until Saturday and our entire relationship comprises hardly more than a two-hour scene together. My cock was so hard for you the first time I watched you as a Domme I had to jerk myself off just to resume breathing normally.”

  She inhaled sharply. Her heart thudded. She pulled her hands from her pockets and gripped her thighs. “Sir…”

  He held up a palm. “Don’t. Don’t submit to me right now. I’m not done.” He spun around, pacing again, worrying her with his silence. Finally, he resumed. “I tried, Faith. Believe me. I tried. I wanted to give you space. I wanted you to come to me on your own time with whatever secrets you keep so buried you can’t utter a word, but I’m just not that man. I need more. I need your truth, whatever you’re hiding. It’s holding us back, keeping us from happening. Keeping this from turning into something real. If you can’t give me that, then please walk out the door.”

  She nodded slowly as realization dawned. And he had a right to everything he was asking for. She had to come clean or lose him. And losing him wasn’t an option.

  He waited, hands on his hips, gaze locked to hers.

  “I’ll tell you everything. But may I ask one question first?”

 
“Go ahead.” He spoke those two words condescendingly as if to say, why the fuck not?

  “What happened earlier to push you over the edge?”

  “The way you spoke of your mother with such disrespect.”

  She flinched. “What did I say?” She couldn’t imagine saying anything nice about her mother ever. But she also didn’t remember her exact words.

  “‘My damn mother is at the door.’”

  She nodded again. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” She took a deep breath. “Rowen, my mother is a conniving bitch. There’s no easy way to put it. That’s being kind, actually. And half the reason I don’t like to speak of her.”

  He jerked. “She’s your mother.” His eyes widened in horror. “Do you have any idea what I would give for two more minutes with my mother?”

  Oh… It all made more sense now. Faith sat up straighter. “I’m so sorry about your mom, Rowen. It sucks. I can’t imagine your pain. But not all mothers are kind and loving. Mine is not.”

  He gripped the back of the chair again. At least he was facing her and standing closer. Though he was towering over her. He also didn’t speak.

  “My parents are William and Jane Davenport.”

  “As in Congressman William Davenport?”

  “That’s the one.” She forced a smile.

  “But your name is Robbins.” He slapped his forehead. “Of course your name is Robbins. That was your husband’s surname, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go on. Make me see this through your eyes.”

  Suddenly, she wasn’t sure that was even possible. Her spine stiffened. She wasn’t about to let her stupid closet full of shit spill into the room if in the end he was going to be an asshole about it and cross his arms and show her the door anyway. “You know, your stance is not making me feel chatty, Rowen. How about you sit in that chair, stop glaring at me like I murdered half the town, and give me the benefit of the doubt for a minute. I deserve at least that.”

  He hesitated, but finally he rounded the chair and lowered himself onto it. “I’m not trying to be a dick. Sorry.”

  “You are exactly trying to be a dick. You’re trying to intimidate me, and I don’t like it. So stop it, or I’m going to leave. It’s hard enough for me to talk about my personal life, Rowen. I guard it close. It’s embarrassing, and I prefer not to think about it. Don’t judge me prematurely for things you know nothing about.”

  A flash of sympathy crossed his face. He pushed to standing, rounded the coffee table, and sat next to her. After taking her hands in his and squeezing them, he met her gaze. “Forgive me.”

  “Oh, I think in the end, you’re going to want to forgive me. Now shut up and let me explain.”

  Half his mouth tipped up in a grin. “Bossy.”

  “When it’s necessary, yes.”

  He tucked a loose hair behind her ear and leaned forward, setting his forehead against hers for a moment. “Stop being sexy while you rant.”

  That had the effect of calming her. She smiled. “Can’t help it. I’m just naturally sexy.”

  He sat back, releasing her hands and leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch.

  “I’m super clear you’ve been waiting to hear two specific pieces of information about me. Let’s start with my job.”

  He nodded, his arm going from the back of the sofa to play with a lock of her hair. “I’m listening.”

  “My job by itself isn’t disturbing. I have a public relations degree from the University of Miami. I work for the city as the event planner for many different nonprofits. I plan and organize parties where many organizations do most of their fundraising, gaining donor support.”

  He watched her intently. “That must be so fulfilling. Why is it a secret?”

  “It’s not. What I left out is that I work for very little money, and I donate all of my earnings to charity. Because the truth is I don’t need the money. I have a large enough trust fund from my maternal grandparents to last me a lifetime.”

  He nodded slowly. “And why is that a secret?”

  “You seriously have to ask that? Rowen, I want people to see me for me. When I meet people, I never have any way of knowing if they actually like me or they just like money. It’s a pain in the ass.”

  She knew she was about to lose her shit explaining herself. In fact, she pulled free of him and stood. She needed to move while she ranted. If he thought she was insane when she was finished, so be it. Her turn to pace.

  “I don’t trust people. They fail me time and again. I wanted you to get to know who I was inside without the cloud of money hanging over us. I wanted you to like me for me. If I told you who my parents were or where I worked or any number of things about me, you would see me differently. When people find out I have money, they automatically treat me differently.”

  “You can’t know that for sure. Not everyone is an asshole.”

  She cocked her head and set her hands on her hips. “In my experience, most people are assholes, and I get hurt every single time. I just wanted a normal relationship for one week—if you can even call this arrangement a relationship. I wanted one week where I could be myself and not have to deal with my fucking money at every turn.”

  “That’s ironic considering I think money turns people into assholes too. I’ve had few positive experiences with wealthy people. It forces me to be hesitant with you. Every woman who has come into this club with dollar signs has proven to be a pain in the ass. Every client I have with piles of money pisses me off with their unwillingness to share with the less fortunate or even pay what they owe in taxes.”

  “So you overgeneralize and assume every woman with money is a bitch?” Her voice rose.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t say it was fair. I’m just pointing out how leery money makes me. I hate it. And, for the record, you weren’t hiding your wealth, Faith. It’s not possible.”

  She nodded. “I figured, but at least give me the chance to show you who I am.”

  He nodded. “Point well made. You’ve given me no reason to believe you think you’re better than anyone else. It’s hard for me to trust that in people, but I’ve tried not to judge you.”

  “Apparently you didn’t google me. I appreciate that.”

  “You asked me to give you a week. I… Well, I tried. I didn’t google you. I never asked Sasha about you either.”

  “I never told Sasha any of this anyway. She knows about my husband, but that’s about it.”

  “The other problem is I’ve got some strange old-fashioned beliefs that I can’t shake. I’ve been taking care of myself, my mother, and my sister since I was ten. It’s ingrained in me to take care of my women. I don’t let my dates pay for their meals or split costs for anything. It emasculates me in a way that may sound ridiculous to others, but it’s who I am.

  “In that same respect, I like to take care of my submissives. It’s important to me.”

  “But you don’t know I won’t let you take care of me. You’ve never given me a chance. You judged me and then turned it into a problem in your mind, assumed I would not fit your mold, and then reacted,” she pointed out.

  He sighed. “You’re right.”

  She approached him again and lowered to the couch next to him. “I can’t change the fact that I have money. I do. It will always be there. And I won’t apologize to anyone for it either. I’m not overly frivolous, but if I want something, I buy it.”

  He grabbed her hands. “I get that. And frankly I don’t care how you spend your money. That doesn’t bother me. I’ve dated women who liked nice things and bought them. Doesn’t make me flinch. As long as they don’t try to take care of me. That unmans me.

  “So, you’re right, I could see by your clothing, your purses, your shoes, even the way you carry yourself that you came from money. I shouldn’t have judged you, or else I should have walked away. But instead, I let my emotions get in the way. I wanted you so badly that I ignored reason and took what I wanted.”


  She wasn’t sure which way this conversation was going. From one minute to the next it seemed to go in and out of her favor. “You didn’t take anything, Rowen,” she said calmly. “You can’t take from a submissive. They have to freely give. And I did. Knowing full well I was withholding information.”

  “You’re right. I worded that badly. My apologies. The entire reason I was attracted to you in the first place was because you were an obviously strong woman. When you slid to your knees on the floor right here Saturday night, my heart skipped a beat. You gave that to me. It was probably the hardest thing you ever did, and yet you did it.”

  She held her breath, willing the tears not to fall. She was not done. “I did. And I was scared out of my mind, but I also never wanted to submit to a man more than I did that night. I prayed to God I had not judged you wrong.”

  He winced. “And now you find out I’m exactly the kind of asshole you abhor.”

  “On the contrary. You have never once treated me differently because of my money. Deep inside, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well. But you said nothing.”

  “Until tonight.”

  “Well, there is that.” She forced a small smile.

  He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together. He looked so fucking good in his faded blue jeans and black, button-down shirt. She’d wanted to flatten her hands on his chest from the moment she’d arrived. “Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”

  “Yeah, that’s sticky. I don’t see them. Not if I can help it. To the outside world they might look like kind, ordinary, loving parents, but to me they’re evil. So, I keep my distance most of the time. If it wasn’t for my work for the city, I would have moved to Seattle by now. But I love my job, so I tolerate my family infrequently in order to keep up appearances. I haven’t even spoken to my sister for so long I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. My mother seems to think they’re serious.”

  Rowen’s brow was furrowed. He clearly didn’t understand.