10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Rowan again woke to the smell of breakfast. He rolled over, but the couch was in the way of seeing the kitchen. Groaning, he scooted along the floor until he saw Sig cooking. “When the heck do you wake up?”

“Earlier than you do,” he called. “Come eat.”

As he stumbled to the kitchen, wrapped in one of the blankets, he grumbled, “Breakfast is fine, but coffee would be better.”

“How about both?”

Rowan smiled sweetly at the man. “I like that.”

“Sit here,” he said, pointing his knife to the stools in front of the island where he was working. “I hope you like omelets.”

“Love ‘em.”

“I found some pretty bell peppers and mushrooms.”

His stomach gave a rumble. “Man, I could get used to this. For me, it’s coffee and a protein bar every morning.”

“Well, shit, if I’d have known you prefer protein for breakfast, I’d have let you suck me off.”

Rowan loved the twinkle in the man’s eyes. That was like the real Santa. “Okay, next time.”

“Next time.”

Not only were there peppers and mushrooms, but onions, garlic, and olive oil were a few of Rowan’s favorite things. “That smells amazing.”

A big mug of coffee was set in front of him, already sweetened and lightened with cream. “You remembered how I take my coffee.”

“It was yesterday. If my memory is that bad, put me out to pasture.”

“Ah, I think you have a few good years left before I resort to that.”

Sig leaned over the counter and gave him a kiss for that. “You’re sweet.”

“We’re supposed to have that talk.”

“I plan on it after I cook. Don’t split my focus. If I start talking sexy shit, I’ll burn my peppers.”

“Perish the thought.”

“Yes, exactly. Breakfast has to be great. We have miles to walk and then we hit the club tonight. I hope you’re up for it.”

“If I need the protein boost, I know where to get it.”

Sig’s laugh was hearty, his whole chest and gut in on it as he flipped the vegetables without a spatula. “Almost ready.”

The scent got him right in the chest when the perfect omelet was set before him a few minutes later. “I never eat like this in the morning. I may cry.”

“Don’t do that. Just eat.”

The first bite was heaven, and the meal just got better. Sig watched him eating with a smile. “I thought we were gonna do limits and all that.”

“I forgot. The way you look when you’re eating is the way you look when…you know.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing!”

“No, it’s not. You look luscious.”

More cheek cramps…

Sighing after the last bite on his plate was eaten, Sig said, “I guess we need to do this. What are you absolutely against, kink-wise?”

“Well, don’t hurt me bad enough to leave a scar, of course. No scat, eww. Um, I don’t have a gig coming up soon, so I’m not worried about bruises, but still, don’t make them so big or bad that they won’t fade within two weeks.”

Staring at his empty plate, Sig asked, “You have a gig in two weeks.”

“Yeah, I, uh…it’s been planned for months. A big birthday party.”

“You’re the gift?”

Rowan refused to take offense to that. He was the one who told Sig about his other job. “No. I’m the entertainment. A man hired me to dance at his husband’s party.”

Sig smiled and sighed heavily with relief. “Sorry. That was…fucking rude. I swear, I’m not holding that against you.”

“Sig, I’m not angry. You have feelings for me, and we haven’t even come close to talking about that stuff. For now, I won’t. If we figure out that this isn’t for us, that we’re not compatible, then I’ll book more of those gigs, if I, well, want to. I’m rather tired of that line of work.”

Sig grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry. Rowan, I have no right to ask you to stop parts of your life.”

He grabbed Sig’s beard and tugged at it. “Shh. I’m telling you, it’s my decision. If I’m with you, Sigmund, I’m with you, and I don’t want anyone else.”

“Turning my head again, Rowan.”

“I mean to.”

They returned to the list of limits and what each of them liked. What he had to admit to the man was that he liked his sex on the rough side. No, it didn’t fare well as far as his career. Bruising wasn’t well-liked at most clubs. He worried greatly that Sig was more of a cuddling Daddy type, but that presumption was soon dispelled.

As Sig described his preferences, Rowan felt his face heating like he’d stuck it straight in the fireplace. “Sig, don’t take this wrong, but you don’t seem the type.”

“Oh?”

“You’re so…sweet!”

“Not always,” he warned. “Are you okay with that?”

“I’m good, yeah, I’m great with that.”

Finding out that Sig was rough with his lovers, if they consented that is, was a relief. And a turn-on. Sig wanted him to be secure in the fact that he stopped with a simple safeword. He lived the lifestyle right. Even when it wasn’t called out, if he saw the sub refusing to say it, he stopped. Another great relief.

They went on to list all their limits. The talk was good and refreshing. For once, Rowan didn’t resist speaking his preferences. Everything they spoke about was as if they were meant to be together.

“Then, I think we’re okay. Let’s get a shower, head out, and go pick up some hiking gear.”

“We’re still doing that?”

“Yeah. I’m testing your stamina.”

His wicked laugh sent a definite chill down his spine, but it also intrigued the fuck out of him. “You’re so bad.”

“Naughty Santa for a naughty elf.”

Rowan could go along with that just fine. After they showered together, Sig’s hands all over him in the pretense of simply helping him wash, they dressed and called for the stagecoach. Sig grumbled that he wished for his old truck from home, but Rowan didn’t mind. It kept them in the mindset of being in the old West.

“It’s fun.”

“I guess,” he said, laughing. “Still, I’d like to drive around on my own next time I come.”

“You can drive up here from your place, can’t you?”

Sig nodded and said, “Sure. I’d rather that than a goddamned little plane anyhow.”

“The private plane? That thing is wonderful!”

“Nope. Give me those big things, where you barely feel the turbulence instead of being tossed all over the damn sky.”

He was afraid of something. It was nice to see he wasn’t some superhuman with no fear.

The coach came for them just after eleven, and they enjoyed the ride into town on the still-frozen roads. It was a slow, cautious ride, but that didn’t bother Rowan. He could have ridden for hours with Sig in the stagecoach, watching the birds fly over the clear sky.

The tree branches were still frozen, white, icy fingers clawing at the world among tall Christmas tree-shaped evergreens that made the perfect canvas for them. They were dropped at the stage stop at the end of town, and together, walking hand in hand, they made their way down the wooden sidewalks, making clumping sounds as they stepped on the boards.

They each picked up some thermal clothing in the apparel store, and Sig insisted on paying for it since it was his idea to hike.

They were allowed to change into the new thermals in the dressing room before they left, and Sig called Jace to see if he’d send a jeep. He did one better, having Tango drive one while he drove the other. “Take it for the rest of the time here. My ears were burning from you crying about it the last three or four days.”

Sig looked at Rowan, who protested, “I didn’t say anything!”

Jace pointed and accused, “You were! You old fuck!”

Tango and Rowan stood together away from the two big men as Sig flipped Jace off but couldn’t deny the truth.

Jace told Tando and Rowan, “He’s soooo independent that he can’t be carted around for more than a day or two, and he’s complaining like a wet hen.”

“Okay, Jace, would you like me to call out some things about your personality?”

“Gotta go, baby,” he told Tango as he grabbed his hand and led him to the other jeep.

“That’s what I thought!”

“That shithead,” Sig said as he laughed. “Let’s get to the mountains.”

“Where, though?”

Sig held up a finger as he looked at his phone. “It’s Jace. Says he forgot to tell me where to go, and he sent a map.”

“Good. And…like there won’t be…you know…animals, right?”

“Don’t think I can protect you from lions, tigers, and bears?”

Rowan rolled his eyes as he got into the passenger seat of the jeep. “Lions and tigers, I’m not worried about. Bears, now…”

After Sig got into the jeep, he asked, “Never heard of a mountain lion?”

Rowan had forgotten those. He stared at Sig, hoping he was kidding.

“Look in the back.”

Rowan did and saw a long case there. “What’s that?”

“Gun. I wouldn’t go into the mountains like this without protection for you.”

A rush of warmth spread over him as he reached over to lay his hand on Sig’s leg. “That’s really sweet.”

“Glad you think so.”

They took the long way to get to the mountain, traveling over well-plowed roads that should have been muddy as hell but weren’t. When he asked Sig about it, he said, “Jace told me they had to lay about five hundred tons of gravel to stiffen up these main roads. They’re still working on the side roads.”

“Five hundred tons ?”

“Yeah. It sounds like a lot, but it’s really not. Some rural places have mud that will sink a vehicle over the axles. For what it costs to gravel the roads, they’re likely saving hundreds of thousands of dollars on fixing their vehicles.”

“Wow. I never knew the ins and outs of living out…well, out here like this.”

“It may not be easy, but for some, like me, it’s far and away worth it.”

Seeing the wilderness spread all around them as they took the drive, Rowan could see why. No people, no cars honking from impatient drivers, no sirens.

Peace. Quiet. Beauty. For him, it was calling to him. But loneliness scared him. He felt it at the beach. Too quiet, too peaceful.

When they began to head north, Sig rolled down his window. “Smell that. Fresh air.”

“Freezing fresh air,” he said, laughing.

“Not too bad. Wait until we’re hiking up a trail. The workout will keep you plenty warm.”

Rowan didn’t mind the cold as much as some he knew from LA. If it got lower than seventy, he heard all his friends complaining.

The mountain loomed before them, its top so starkly white that it was ominous. Not to mention, near the peak, the wind had to be blowing much harder than the gentle breeze he felt as they slowed the Jeep, and Sig began to look for a place to park. The cloudless sky was white near the top, with the wind blowing the snow.

“Look at that. Isn’t that incredible?”

“That looks cold.”

“Sig, you were just telling me it wasn’t bad!”

“We’re not going that high, believe me. I love climbing, but I’m good to tree line.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, but okay, I’ll follow you.”

They exited the jeep, and Sig got out the rifle, loaded it, and slung it over his shoulder by some strap it was on. Then he handed Rowan a light backpack. “There’s a canteen of water in there and some energy bars. Don’t go nuts with them right away, okay?”

“I’m not hungry. Still full from that omelet.”

“Good.”

They started up the trail together, and it wasn’t ten feet before Rowan was totally into it. The cold was nothing but an afterthought, and the snow was patchy on the sides of the trail, but the trees shielded most of the area from the worst snowfall.

He moved up the trail quickly, keeping a close eye behind him at Sig. “You want me to slow down?”

“No. I like the view.”

“I’m layered with like fifteen layers. You’re not seeing me, you’re seeing cloth.”

“I have x-ray vision.”

He turned and mumbled, “You are a Superman.”

Once they were up around a hundred feet, there was a nice little plateau where he turned to see the view. It was so beautiful, he was breathless.

The valley below was carpeted in white snow and evergreen. There were streams curving along the area, and even the homes that were there didn’t take away from the amazing vista.

Sig caught up to him quickly, standing beside him to look over the land. In the distance were more and more mountains, like the earth had so liked the look of them on her surface, so she pushed up more until she was covered with them.

“This…I’m so glad you brought me.”

“It’s beautiful, yeah. Still not as beautiful as you, Rowan.”

He was already warm from the hike but Sig’s hand grabbing his, his words…under his stocking cap, he was sweating. “Sigmund, you flatter me.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you. When we get up another fifty feet or so, and you’re nice and breathless, I’m going to ravage you like you have never been fucked before in your citified life, boy.”

He’d read it books, the exaggerated description of a jaw dropping to the floor, but damned if at that minute, he felt his jaw dropping and thought he felt it touching the stone beneath his feet.

Sig smiled and moved past him to start back up the trail. It took Rowan a few seconds to get going, climbing a steep spot before it leveled out again. Watching Sig truck along like the entire thing was flat and easily walked, hearing the mocking little whistle he was making as he went, Rowan knew he was in for it.

Sig wasn’t tired in the least, and he seemed invigorated from the altitude instead of gasping for air like Rowan had felt since he’d arrived at the ranch. He began to count his steps in his head, knowing that wasn’t exactly the way to count off fifty feet, but another surprise, and he’d likely lose his mind.

Thirty came and went, and Sig didn’t so much as look back at him. He was traveling another steep incline as his head moved to take in the view, or so it seemed.

What was more likely was that he was looking for someplace to take Rowan and, in his words, ravaged him.

More than once, Sig warned that he liked sex to be rough. On the side of a mountain, with nothing around them but nature, he likely could be a lot rougher than on a nice soft bed, or even in a controlled playroom.

The times Rowan had played scenes with the men who hired him were the only times he could distance himself enough to get through it with some enjoyment. He could lose himself in the rougher acts and pretend he wasn’t being paid, that they were only out for mutual pleasure. Blindfolded, bound, turned away from the Top, he could imagine he was someone else for that little while. With Sigmund, however, it would be much different.

And he could barely contain his excitement and his trepidation.

Forty steps, forty-two, forty-seven, and they had reached another plateau where the flat went on and around the curve of the mountain. There were trees, boulders, and shrubs, and in the middle of it all was Sigmund, standing solidly, unmoving, staring at Rowan as he approached cautiously. “I’m guessing this is fifty feet.”

“Close enough.”

His voice was exceedingly gruff, and his eyes didn’t blink. The tension between them was so thick, it was denser than the boulder that loomed behind Sig.

In fact, his unblinking eyes looked black.

Still a couple of feet from him, Rowan stopped, suddenly nervous. “Where…where do you want me, I mean…where should I go?”

Sigmund didn’t say a word, just continued to stare. He wasn’t even breathing hard, and Rowan felt dizzy between the altitude and the climb.

Taking another step to Sigmund, Rowan swallowed hard. “I…I’m a little, uh…anxious, I guess.”

Another step and still, Sigmund stood motionless, unblinking, his mouth a thin line.

The breeze blew at him, cooling his cheeks, but all the oxygen was taken with the breeze, and he felt as if he’d faint any second.

The closer he got, the more he felt the tension. He was hot, in need, and scared shitless all at once.

When he was within reach, he thought for sure Sig would reach for him, grab him, something, but he didn’t move.

Remembering his little bit of training, Rowan lowered his eyes to the ground between them, swallowing again before clearing his throat and whispering, “I’m yours, Sir.”

The first sign he was still breathing came when he let out a sarcastic huffing laugh. “Heh.”

Rowan chanced looking back up at him, and he saw the smirk. “Not sir?”

The little shake of his head said enough.

As the anticipation grew, so did his trepidation. Waiting like he was, he started to fidget, and that was when Sig’s eyes moved from staring into Rowan’s face, right to his feet.

Like he’d had instant-dry cement poured over him, he stopped. He took a stuttering breath, and that’s when it happened. Without looking up at him again, Sig’s hand shot up and grabbed Rowan by the throat, and in a fast, slick movement, Rowan’s back was pressed into Sig’s chest, the hand on his throat keeping him still.

“I’m no fucking sir. I’m no lord, no master.”

“Wh-what do I call you?”

“You don’t open your fucking mouth unless it’s to safeword. You got that, Rowan?”

“Yes, Sir. I mean…I mean, yes!”

“Safeword?”

Rowan smiled inwardly as he whispered tightly, “Jingle bells.”

“Smart assed little fuck, aren’t you? I’ll show you what happens to smart-assed little fucks, Rowan.”

Sig fell back, taking Rowan with him, and he had to land hard on his ass with double the weight on him, but it didn’t faze him a bit.

Soon, Rowan was on the ground, a bit of snow under his cheek as Sig kept him facedown. “Don’t move.”

Sig stood, and Rowan began to see clothes being tossed as Sig began to undress. He made the mistake of lifting his head a little, and Sig’s boot soon settled on his head, keeping him in place.

“What did I just fucking say?”

Rowan didn’t answer, and it was not because he was told not to speak but because he could not breathe in enough to make a word.

The boot came off Rowan’s face just a minute before he saw them, and Sig’s pants landed right near his nose. Then…it was his turn.

Sig was on the ground, pushing him over to his back to unfasten Rowan’s jeans. As soon as they were off, Sig yanked off his thermals, then his regular underwear, unceremoniously, and as roughly as he could.

Rowan’s fingers dug in the mud, dirt, rocks, and snow for purchase, but there wasn’t any. He was alone, on a mountainside, too far for anyone to hear his screams. And suddenly, he realized that was exactly why they’d gone on the hike.

As his cock was let loose in the cold, it didn’t seem to feel it, as it was hard, bouncing back on his lower abdomen lewdly. Then, as if he saw it too, Sig slapped it, and Rowan came up instinctively to double in two, only to be pushed back to the dirt again.

“Best stay where I put you, or you’re gonna be real sorry.”

A smile spread through the break between his mustache and beard, and all Rowan saw was pure evil. His body began to shake, and no, he wasn’t cold. Not even a little.

His mouth suddenly went dry, and he got as comfortable as he could, knowing that soon, he wouldn’t be comfortable again for days…