Freeing Rowan (Masters Club 3)

He would glance up from his work from time to time, just to watch her. There was a quiet, fierce joy that came over her when she was creating, as if she were lit from within. She became completely absorbed in what she was doing, busily mixing colors on her palette and daubing them on the canvas. The tip of her tongue would appear on her lower lip as she concentrated.

While she had spent most nights at his place, she still considered herself Sheri’s roommate, and still worked the bartending job which kept her out until quite late. Though he understood her need for independence, he selfishly wished she would quit that job so she could devote her time to her art during the day, and to him at night. He earned more than enough to support them both.

He hadn’t broached the subject, however, not wanting to move too fast and ruin things in the process. She was, after all, just coming out of a toxic relationship. While their connection felt strong and real, he didn’t want to end up being her rebound relationship.

After their first time together, Rowan had suggested she get tested for STDs, since she couldn’t vouch for who Garfield might have been with other than her, given his talk of a sister slave. Though Eric always practiced safe sex, and hadn’t been in an intimate relationship for a while, he got tested, too, for added peace of mind. Happily, they’d both been given a clean bill of health and, as Rowan was on birth control, they’d agreed to dispense with condoms going forward.

Now, he left the main gallery in search of Rowan. She was holding a smaller court of her own in the back room, the center of a group of admirers. She glanced up as he entered the room, her face lighting with a radiant smile. She said something to the people standing around her and stepped toward him.

“Oh, Eric,” she said, her eyes shining. “This is so unbelievable. Peter Benson is here from the Times! He wants to interview me for an article about new artists on the New York scene. And Clarise just told me the amazing news that every single one of my canvases has already sold! I feel like I’m in a dream. Like this can’t really be happening.”

Eric smiled broadly, feeling inordinately proud. “Your work is really something special, Rowan. I’m so glad you’re getting this opportunity. You totally deserve it.”

She beamed back at him. “Thanks, Eric. Thanks for helping me find myself again.”

More people crammed into the small room, demanding Rowan’s attention. Eric stepped back, content to watch, biding his time until he could take this lovely girl home with him.

It was after midnight when they finally made it back to his apartment. Eric had never seen Rowan so amped up. “I feel like I’m bouncing off the walls,” she said with an apologetic laugh. “I’m bone tired, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep.”

Understandably thrilled with the success of her artistic debut, she’d been chattering nonstop in her excitement, clearly overwound. Her eyes were fever bright and glassy with fatigue.

“What if it was a fluke?” she asked suddenly. She lifted a finger to her mouth and started to chew a nail, the first time she’d reverted to the nervous habit in a while. “What if I only sold those pieces because of Beverly Sanchez? What if it was a one-off?”

“Hey,” he said, reaching to gently pull her hand from her mouth. Putting his arms around her, he drew her into a hug. Dipping his head, he kissed the side of her neck. “If that were the case, would Peter what’s-his-name from the Times want to do an article on you? You sold those paintings because they’re amazing. They would’ve sold in a heartbeat, even if you’d just set them up by a bench in Central Park.”

She wriggled out of his arms and looked up at him hopefully. “You really think so? You’re not just saying that?” She hugged herself, rocking slightly as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Man, I wish I could calm the fuck down.”

Placing his hands gently but firmly on her shoulders, Eric said, “Rowan, look at me.” He waited until she met his gaze. “That’s better. Now, take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

She complied, though she still held herself tightly, as if she might levitate if she let go.

Eric reached for her arms and gently pulled them from her torso, guiding them down to her sides. “I’m going to help you calm down, sub girl,” he said with a smile. “All you need to do is trust and obey me. Can you do that?”

She nodded, her huge doe eyes now fixed on his.

“Good girl,” he replied approvingly. “My plan is to relax you with some rope bondage and a little sexual pleasure and pain. I want to completely immobilize you and then use you as it pleases me.”