TWELVE
A few days pass, and I try to bury myself in work so I don’t dread the minutes Rowan isn’t here. He’s still gone—to London, as I found out by keeping the news channel on. I’m fidgeting with his key right now, debating whether I should just go to his house. Because he’s right. Even if he’s not there, being surrounded by his environment would still be better than not feeling him around.
My eyes keep sliding over to my phone, expecting a text or a call. I can’t help but feel like a teenage girl in love, butterflies in my belly and all. When it vibrates on my desk, I’m quick to grab it in my hands, though disappointment courses through me when I see it’s my mom. We’ve already talked multiple times after she saw my picture on the news.
A rush of heat starts at the top of my head and spreads down my spine. Yes, that picture. Where Rowan’s hand was all over my pussy, and no one knew. No one but him and me.
“He’s in London right now!” my mom texts.
“Stop stalking him,” I text back.
“Why aren’t you with him? He should’ve taken you with him.”
I roll my eyes, my fingers dashing through the touchscreen keyboard.
“Just because we’re together, it doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon my life. Got work to do.”
“Your dad used to leave me behind all the time. I just hope he isn’t like that…”
I clench my jaw, already annoyed at her remark. This happens every single time I mention any man in my life—not that there have been many. She’s projecting her insecurities on me and sometimes… I end up projecting them. I don’t want that to happen with Rowan, so I cut her off before she gets more ideas to put in my head.
“He isn’t. Gotta go. Love you xx”
I put my phone back, though two more messages come through. And I get it—I know she feels lonely after her husband left and her other kid died. But with everything that happened, leaving that town behind was the best thing I could’ve done for myself. And my mom, as much as I love her, keeps finding ways to drag me right back into the past.
I’ve asked her to move to Washington with me, but she’s still very much attached to that place. Like she’s still waiting for my father to come back, even after all these years. I told myself I’m never going to be like that. I’ll never wait on a man who doesn’t want me, and I’ll never beg for what he does not want to offer me freely. Maybe that’s why I haven’t texted Rowan yet, even though every fiber of my being is telling me to do so. Why isn’t he calling? Why did I have to hear about him being in London from the news?
I get up from my desk and decide to start cleaning: vacuuming, dusting, and mopping every square inch. Cleaning always keeps me centered in the present moment, which is exactly what I need right now. When I’m done, I return to my desk, determined to get a head start on work for next week. That’s when my doorbell rings, and I jolt upright like a spring.
I scurry down the hallway on my tiptoes, my pulse quickening.
“Hello?” I say through the closed door. “Who is it?”
“Just me, Zain.”
My heart drops a little, but the feeling is completely lost when I open the door and I’m met with the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of white and pink peonies. It’s so lush, I can’t even see Zain’s head behind it.
“Oh my God,” I say, inhaling their fresh, sweet aroma that already wafts all over me. “Thank you!” Instinctively, I bring my hand to my chest, huffing a breathy smile as the flowers are slowly pushed toward me.
“I’m merely the messenger, Miss Finnegan,” he smiles.
The flowers are heavy in my arms, their curly, soft petals smearing my skin with early summer mist. My phone rings on the table again, and I turn my head toward the sound. I glance over at Zain.
“I…”
“I’ll be around,” Zain says, nodding softly as he retreats into the shadows, where he and his team are watching over me. They’ve been here ever since Rowan left, and I kind of feel bad because there’s nothing for them to do. Which is also a good thing, I suppose, since that means no one’s trying to get to me.
I close the door and pick up the call, my heart desperate to get out of my chest as I see Rowan’s name across the screen. I bring it up to my ear, but his husky voice envelops me before I get to say hello.
“Look outside. Through your main window.”
Pushing my lower lip between my teeth, I rush toward it with the flowers still in my arms, expecting to see him out front. But I pull my transparent curtains to the side, and I’m met with the sight of another bouquet of peonies that one of Zain’s men is holding in front of a black car.
“Rowan…” I smile.
“Get in the car, angel,” he commands.
“Are you back from London?”
“No.”
“Then why—”
“You have exactly ten minutes to go downstairs and get into the car. If you’re not there when I call again, I’m going to punish you when I get back—and I promise it is not the kind you’ll look forward to.”
I suck in a breath, nervousness creeping in. With Rowan, I never know what to expect. Sex is never gentle with him, and although I love it, it makes me actually concerned what his punishments would entail.
“Is that understood?”
“Y-Yes. Yes, sir.”
The call ends without another word, and I look around me for what to do next. The flowers. I have to put the flowers in a vase or something.
I run toward the kitchen, palms sweating and heat curling up on my skin. I get a vase out and put them in with a load of water. Then I change into a white skirt and flowery top, and lock up before hurrying downstairs.
The elevator isn’t working this week—the management has yet to fix it. So I huff and puff all the way to the first floor when it hits me. I forgot to pack the sexy lingerie I bought the other day to surprise him. I look at the time on my phone and see that I’ve still got four minutes left of the time Rowan allowed me. Cursing internally, I decide to make a run for it, back to the fifth floor.
I unlock my door and burst into the hallway, not bothering to take off my shoes. There. On the bedroom floor, in the pink-striped Victoria’s Secret shopping bag. I bend down to snatch it and when I head back out into the living room… I freeze.
There’s a half-peeled blood orange on my side table.
Its juice has splattered over the glass, staining it, as if whoever peeled it wasn’t gentle when holding it between their fingers. The thought of someone else being here is terrifying, but I don’t remember eating an orange today. Or buying one, even.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I look toward the main door, my heart slamming against my ribcage. Fear, true unfiltered fear bolts through my body like lightning, my head feeling foggy from the rush of hormones.
“I have a gun,” I lie, forcing my voice to come out stronger than how I feel. “And I’m not afraid to use it.”
Silence. Only the ticking clock in my hallway and my blood whooshing in my ears fill the space.
“Zain!” I shout, my voice now shaky and rough. “Zain!”
I swallow a sob and decide to make a run for the door. Just then, Zain’s body bumps into mine, and he shoves me behind him as I tremble like a leaf. Fuck, I really should go to those self-defense classes I’ve been meaning to try.
“Stay here,” he says, pulling out his gun and disappearing behind the walls of my home. Behind me, two more of his men are approaching, all carrying guns and pointing them over my shoulder. I don’t move a muscle as they walk by me.
After a few moments, Zain gets back with his gun tucked in.
“What happened?” he asks. “There’s no one inside.”
That’s impossible. Unless… unless my memory is failing me, and I did eat that orange. But…
“I’m… I’m sorry. Are you sure… have you checked everywhere?”
“Yes. Everywhere someone might be able to hide. We’re trained for this exact type of situation. So trust me, Miss Finnegan, there is no one in your home other than my team right now.”
What the hell?
“Thank you. I’m so sorry, I thought—”
“What happened?” he presses on, pinning me with his gaze. His men come around him, their guns also tucked back into place.
“I think I’m just tired and… on edge, with everything going on. I’m not used to being followed by the paparazzi or people trying to take selfies with me. I’m so sorry.”
“You do not have to apologize. This is what we’re here to do. I should call the commander.”
“ No ! Please, don’t! This is so embarrassing… I don’t want him to worry for nothing. Please?”
Zain studies me for a few moments as I put on the biggest puppy eyes I can. Finally, he sighs, and my entire body relaxes with it.
“Very well, then, Miss Finnegan. But you have to promise you’ll call out for us if anything else looks suspicious, even if it turns out being nothing. Do we have a deal?”
“Dove,” I say, extending my hand forward. “Please, call me Dove. And sure, that should be okay. Though I promise to get some rest so my mind doesn’t play tricks on me next time.”
Zain nods softly and exits my apartment together with his men on his trail. I let loose a temporary sigh of relief, the whole situation still having me on edge. I didn’t eat that orange. And unless Zain’s men were inside my apartment when I wasn’t there… I have no fucking clue who did. Fuck, maybe I really am tired. Maybe this whole thing is taking a toll on me. I’ll deal with this when I get back.
The phone rings again just when Zain’s teammate opens the door to the SUV for me, in front of my apartment.
“Hey. I’m in the car right now.” I try to keep my tone positive, despite the unease still roiling in my gut. “What are we doing?”
Unfortunately though, Rowan sees right through me, like he always does.
“What happened?” he asks, his tone like gravel softened by thunderous rain. The sound of his voice settles low in my bones, gnawing at me with concern.
I sigh, closing the car’s door behind me. “I’m just a bit tired. Who thought taking so many selfies with strangers over the past few days would wear me out like this?” I chuckle.
A deadly pause, and then, “You’re lying to me. Why?”
I stutter, shame washing over me at the disappointment in his words. I am lying to him.
“I’m…” I sigh, looking out the tinted window. “I really didn’t want to worry you for nothing. I thought I saw something or… someone in my apartment. But Zain—”
“Zain didn’t call back to report this.”
“I kind of asked him not to. You have a lot on your mind right now, and I didn’t want to—”
“Oh, angel…” He scoffs a laugh that drags a whimper through the length of my throat. “We really do need to work on your training, don’t we?”
“I…”
“When I ask you something, I expect you to be honest with me. I don’t care if you think you have the right reasons to lie. You do not worry about me. Not now, not ever. But me? I will turn this world upside down to protect what’s mine. And lest you forget it, angel, you do belong to me now. Do you not?”
“Rowan… I’m really…”
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I belong to you now.”
“Splendid. I will take care of this small interference later. Now … there’s a black box on the seat next to you. Pick it up,” he says, directing my attention to the object. He’s so blunt today—more so than usual. I wonder if everything is all right with him.
“What is this?”
“A suction device. For your pussy.”
“Oh.”
I can sense the dark smile on his face as he continues, “Turn it on, and put it under your skirt until Perez drives you to your destination.”
How does he know I’m wearing a skirt? My cheeks flush with heat as I take the object out of the box, inspecting it. It’s shaped like a pink rose, and I can’t help but press my thighs together imagining the way it would feel sucking on my sensitive clit.
“But Perez… I can’t possibly do that with him in the car.”
“You can, and you will. Stay still and don’t let him see it. This is for me and no one else. I’m watching you right now, and I want to see you squirm on that seat until he drops you off.”
“Rowan…” I plead, though if I’m being honest, I kind of want to go through with it. He’s watching me right now? Well then, I’m going to give him a good fucking show.
“Lift up your skirt, Dove. Or I’ll make you.”
I burn at the dominance in his voice while simultaneously fidgeting with the ends of my skirt, pulling it up a few inches. My naked legs pebble with goose bumps and my pussy pulses in anticipation of submitting to him.
“Show me your pussy. Pull your panties to the side.”
My fingers stroke my pussy through my thong, darting out to the side where I can pull the fabric away to reveal the soft bundle of nerves between my legs. I’m already so wet.
“Fuck,” Rowan grunts. His voice gets louder, as if he’s approaching the phone, trying to join me here on this seat.
“Yes,” I moan in response, mimicking his reaction as I press my fingers to my pussy, arching my back like a cat.
“Turn it on. Press the toy to your slit. Hard. As if I’m there, pushing my tongue into you.”
I do as he says, my head dipping back from the heat that’s curling at the base of my spine, driving pleasure all throughout my core. My walls clench around nothing, the toy sucking me in like it’s indeed Rowan’s mouth licking all over my starved pussy. I lean back, huffing out air with every deep stroke, every tendril of pleasure that makes my legs shake as my orgasm builds up inside me.
“Press your thighs together around the toy. Remove your hand and pull your skirt back over your pussy. I’m sending Perez in the car right now.”
“No, please, wait—ahhh.”
“Now, Dove. Or he’ll see you come all over your hands, and then I’ll have no choice but to pluck out his eyeballs. Do you understand?”
“You wouldn’t…” I gasp, pressing the toy harder to my slit, my hips buckling to the point where I’m now riding it.
“I would do far worse if another man ever saw you like that without my permission. Perez means nothing to me. You mean everything.”
The car stops in front of Rowan’s house, and Perez is the first to get out—thank God. I’m all flushed, wet, and needy for Rowan as the toy keeps sucking between my legs like a starved, sentient being.
Hesitantly, I take it out of my pussy and put it back in the small box, willing my shaky legs to move and keep me upright as I step outside on the pavement.
Rowan hasn’t called again, so I’m not sure why he wanted me here, at his house, in the spur of the moment. I make my way into the living room, the door already unlocked for me. But no sooner do I make it inside when… I feel it.
The scent. And the warm breeze that carries it from the garden through the open sliding doors, wrapping around my body like a second skin.
I inch toward it, shaking my head in disbelief for what I know to be true even without seeing it yet.
Hundreds—no, thousands —of peonies must be waiting on the other side of this curtain that’s flapping above the glass doors. That’s the only possible way you get a naturally sweet scent that is this strong to fill the air.
“Oh my God,” I exhale when I step through the doors into Rowan’s garden.
The field is literally filled with peonies as far as my eyes can see, stretching around the tall willow trees, the pond, and the lush bushes. It looks like a huge cloud of pink and white silk, and I rush toward them, my skirt swirling around me when I spin in place, taking it all in.
My phone rings again.
“Whatever you need to feel at home in this house, I’ll bring it to you. All you have to do is ask,” Rowan says.
“Still want me to move in with you, huh?”
His voice lowers. “I want everything with you.” I’m taken aback by the confession.
“How… how can you know for sure, when you’ve just met me?”
“One day, I’ll show you everything. Everything I am, and everything you mean to me. Until then, I want to come home to my entire house smelling like my perfect angel and nothing else.”
“Would that make you happy?”
“Feral is more like it.”
I pause for a few moments, taking in the view as I clutch the phone with both hands.
“Rowan?”
“Yes, angel?”
“I know you said not to worry about you. But I do worry. It’s hard not to, knowing the kind of job you have. You seem a bit… different today. And I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
He sighs, a hint of a smile audible through this breathing. “I never realized letting someone in would mean that they too would start reading me well. I’ll tell you, since you’ll hear it on the news anyway. There’s been an attack on the Ridge. One that doesn’t make any sense. In fact, it’s almost as if they’re trying to distract us from something else. It’s why I can’t come home tonight, like I wanted to. Even so, is there a chance you’ll agree to spend the night in our bed?”
I take in what he’s telling me but I don’t press him on it. Even my brother wasn’t allowed to tell us much about the war, and he wasn’t as high up in the ranks as Rowan is.
“If I say yes, does that mean I’ll wake up in your arms tomorrow?”
“I hate to spoil part of the surprise, but yes, there’s something important I need to do tomorrow. And I’m taking you with me.”
“What is it?” I walk across the porch, watching a wild duck land in the nearby pond, a few soft waves cresting in the wake of its flapping wings.
“We’re meeting the President and the First Lady in the Oval Office for lunch.”