12. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Once they got back to the house, they took separate showers, and Sig told him to shower most of the stuff off him and then relax in a bath. That’s just what he did. He lay in the hot bath for almost an hour, until his skin was completely pruned before he got out and went to his room to dress in some comfortable clothes.

After getting on his lotus-print baggie silk pants and matching long-sleeved baggie shirt, he went down the hall to knock on Sig’s door, but no one answered. After going downstairs and not finding him, Rowan went to the garage to find the jeep gone.

“Where did you go?”

Suppressing the impulse to call him, Rowan got a tall glass of water and sat in the chair by the window, watching the sun disappear behind thick, dark clouds. The late afternoon drew darkness around her, the clouds covering the earth in a beautiful shadow.

That didn’t diminish the beauty of the mountains and forests in the least but added a layer of mystery and an almost storybook feel. It was like trolls or witches would come out of those trees and surround the house, and he pictured Sigmund riding on a beautiful white stallion to rescue him.

He was watching out of the window so serenely that he didn’t hear Sigmund come into the house until he called out to him. “Rowan?”

Turning, he smiled. “Wow! How long have you been here?”

Sig walked over to him, giving him a peck on the mouth. “Not long.”

“Look at the woods out there. Isn’t it incredible?”

“Looks kinda spooky.”

Rowan laughed as he nodded. “Like a fairytale place. And you would ride through it on your white steed to rescue me from trolls.”

“That sounds fun, actually. I’ve always wanted to fight some big monster to win the heart of a fair prince.”

Rowan laughed and stood from the chair, holding Sig, who wrapped his big arms tightly around him. “Where did you go?”

“Had a little shopping to do,” he said as he let go of Rowan and nodded toward the bags. “The black one is mine, and the blue one is yours. They’re for tonight.”

“Oh?”

Sig nodded and took his hands into his own, smiling wickedly. “I saw you covered in mud, so one bucket list wish down. Now…I need to see you in leather.”

“Leather. Oh, my. Well, if it’s a bucket list wish, then, of course.”

Sig winked at him. “Good. I’ll make dinner, and we’ll start getting dressed after that.”

Rowan stopped him from heading to the kitchen. “We’re…okay, right?”

With his brows drawn, Sigmund asked, “Why would you ask that?”

Rowan cast his eyes down and whispered a confession that came maybe a little too easily. “I’ve never told anyone that first…ever, and I’ve only said it a couple of times to a man. And…it’s been a long time.”

Sig moved them over to the couch and sat on it before pulling Rowan onto his lap. “Listen, I’ve only said it to one man before you. I loved him fiercely, but…the longer I know you, it feels like the first time. Like the rest of my life was leading up to this. I mean…”

Rowan watched his struggle. He felt like he was betraying his late husband. Rowan couldn’t imagine that pain.

“Rowan, you make me feel like I’m brand new, reborn into a new person who wants so much. I want to see things and do things, but only if I can share it with you. But…but we also need to be realistic. We lead separate lives. We didn’t plan this.”

As he felt a heaviness in his chest, Rowan asked meekly, “So, that means, what? That after we leave here, it’s over?”

Sig reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks that he hadn’t realized were falling from his eyes. “No, silly boy. We go back to our lives and get things in order. We live, we see if…if this was real. It feels so real right now, but maybe, not being here, we’ll feel differently. Rowan, I know that my heart is alive again, and I want you more than anything in the world. I want you to be sure, I want to be sure, that we didn’t come here, to this romantic and sexy place and get our hearts set on something that…was simple wishes and dreams.”

Rowan heard the reason behind his words and knew they were true, but they still threatened to break him. “If I know…if I go home and, in a month, in two months, I feel the same way? Then what?”

“Then we’ll figure out how to be together. I gave you my number, I’ll give you my address, I expect the same from you, and when we figure this out, well, things will happen as they’re supposed to.”

Thinking of living a day without him seemed like torture, but Sigmund was right. They had to see if it was real. “Okay. Okay, I’ll…I’ll accept that. For now.”

“Good. I do love you, Rowan. You’re in my heart, and for the record, I don’t think, even for a second, that it’s not real. But you need to be sure of me, and I must be sure of you.”

“I love you. Very much.”

“Then let me make you dinner, take you out tonight, and show you a good time.”

Rowan kissed him gently and laid his head on Sig’s shoulder. “I am hungry. Steak tonight?”

“How’d you know?”

“Craving red meat, so I was hoping.”

Rowan sat in the chair, watching the sun leave the sky completely, while Sigmund cooked their dinner. The scent coming from the kitchen made his stomach growled like a bear’s.

The darkness was so complete, it was like looking into an abyss. Maybe that was just the way he felt. Rowan was afraid, so scared he didn’t know what to do. If Sig got back to New Mexico and figured out he was in lust for the week at the ranch, had his head turned, and the love faded as soon as the mountains of Montana were fading behind him, Rowan might never recover.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Sig was standing by the chair. Rowan hadn’t noticed he’d walked over to him. “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

Sig helped him stand and then held him. “Stop. Stop it right now.”

“What?”

“Stop worrying. I told you I love you.”

Rowan nodded, plastered a fake smile on his face, and walked with him to the kitchen.

The only thing that could possibly stop his mind from delving into that dark place of worry was the food. Not once in his life had he had a better steak. It had the perfect crust on the outside, the meat moist and perfectly cooked, and enough flavor to satisfy any craving he could have.

“This is wonderful. I usually want steak sauce with my meat like this, but it doesn’t need it.”

“Even try to put that junk on one of my steaks, and you won’t sit for a week.”

“Kinky.”

With their bellies full, Sig handed him the bag. “Wear jeans over it or whatever.”

“What is this?”

“Something to make you look delicious. Open it upstairs in your room. I’ll meet you at the front door in an hour. Do…whatever you need to do to get all pretty for me.”

Pretty. That gave him some ideas.

He tossed the bag onto the bed when he got to his room. Then, he got his travel bag from the bathroom and started to go through it, taking out the things he wanted to use, such as eyeliner, colored lip gloss, and the dark gray and black eye shadow kit.

He sat at the vanity, applying his foundation, concealer, highlighter, and bronzer. After his face looked its best, he started on his brows, eyeliner, and shadow.

A little bit of mascara was fine, but he looked off with too much. He’d even tried fake lashes, but they looked weird on him for some reason, and even a drag queen friend of his had agreed to that.

When he finished his hair and makeup, he opened the bag and pulled out a pair of black leather shorts with a zipper from the front to the back. He could unzip it, and his ass, dick, and balls would be exposed.

Laughing, he got them on and then dug into the tissue paper inside the bag and pulled out a gorgeous leather harness. It was thin but pliable, shining leather with silver conchos and a D-ring in front.

It was a simple harness that ran around his waist and over each shoulder with a strap across his chest. He turned around in front of the vanity mirror and liked what he saw. What’s more, he had the perfect boots for them. The Santa boots he’d worn the first few nights of the gig at Cowpokes.

Once dressed, he went to the front door and waited, fidgeting and pacing until he heard the heavy boots coming toward him.

Turning, he took a step back as he smiled crazily. “Oh. My. Gawd.”

Sig did a little turn, and Rowan’s mouth immediately filled with saliva.

He wore tight leather pants, a leather western shirt, a black cowboy hat, and a black mask, just like the one he wore the first time Rowan had seen him. He looked like some kinky Lone Ranger, but much, much hotter.

“Damn. You look incredible.”

“Why don’t you have pants on? You’re gonna freeze.”

“In and out of the jeep fast. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

The club was already hopping by the time they arrived, and Jace greeted them at the door with his two men before letting him know to head right up to the VIP floor. There was a bouncer that didn’t even ask their names, as he knew by just his recognition of Rowan.

They walked into the VIP floor, and Sig laughed a little. “An old west VIP. Now I’ve seen everything.”

The same types of booths and tables as on the main floor, old style wooden tables and chairs and the booths were enclosed slightly with saloon doors for privacy.

There were three small stages where the dancers moved seductively to the music, and couches were stationed throughout.

Near some of the couches were stripper poles, and the lighting was dim. Electronic candles with flickering bulbs were in the sconces and overhead in the round chandeliers.

Slow music played on the hidden speakers, and the men positioned in seats at tables and on most of the couches murmured. Sig took Rowan’s hand and led him through the area, finding a nice little leather loveseat near one of the stages. Next to it was a stripper pole, and Rowan said, “I’ll dance just for you if you’d like.”

“You know I’d like that, baby. How about on that stage there?”

“I’ll talk to the dancer after he finishes this song.”

On the loveseat, Rowan sat close to Sig, legs draped across his lap. They watched the beautiful dancer Rowan remembered from the first night’s number. His name was Dimitri, and he was lanky, with thick black curls and a sweet, angelic face, though his movements were anything but holy.

With one leg up on the fencing around the stage, made to look like a corral, he leaned down, blowing kisses at the men on the side of the stage, and they both threw money onto the stage for him.

Slinky, pretty and Rowan thought for sure he would hold Sig’s attention, but when he looked at his guy, Sigmund’s eyes were on him. “You only have eyes for me?”

“Thought you knew that.”

Rowan kissed him and then kissed him again as the song came to a finish. He swung his legs off Sig and suggested, “Go get us some water. I’ll need some when I start dancing.”

“How about some juice and water? I need to keep you hydrated.”

“You’re the best.”

Rowan went to the little stage and called Dimitri down to speak to him. “Hey, I want to dance for my…my, um…”

“You’re hottie?”

Rowan smiled and nodded. “He’s so hot, and, well, I’d like to dance for him.”

“Have at it,” Dimitri said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and whispered, “Watch these other guys. They have been here for almost a week, here every night we’ve been open, throwing money at us.”

“That sounds like a good thing.”

Dimitri nodded but said, “Sure, sure, but they expect a lot for their money if you get me.”

Of course, he did. “I’m here with someone, so I think I’ll be okay.”

“I’d still keep my eye on them.”

Dimitri left and Rowan looked over to see the bigger of the two men staring right at him, smiling like he was starving, and Rowan was a juicy piece of meat. Rowan knew that look, but two bouncers were sitting near the front and one in the back of the room, and Sig would be there soon, too.

He walked up the three stairs and opened the corral gate, stepping onto the stage, purposely ignoring the two men on the other couch. When the music started again, he didn’t move until Sig returned with the drinks.

After putting them on the table, Sig flashed a smile at him while he sat on the loveseat, arms outstretched on the back of it. A nod told Rowan to begin, and he closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the grinding beat. His hips moved first, and then the rest of his body followed.

The lights were pointed up at him, that good lighting that he loved. It never showed a blemish or a sag; those lights only highlighted him in the best ways.

Twirling, raising his arms above his head, he felt the music flow through him, the aches from the romp they’d had in the woods earlier forgotten. Nothing could touch him when he was dancing. It was like a shield that music, letting him be invincible.

Hips grinding in the air, arms flowing like they were blowing in a slow breeze, Rowan danced for Sig, the man he’d waited for all his life. Like Sig said, everything he’d done had prepared him just for the moment they met. To Rowan, that included his learning to dance and perform, because, at that moment in time, he performed for Sig, dancing just for him.

Sig watched closely, his eyes never leaving Rowan for a second. It was like they were touching, though their bodies weren’t close enough to touch. Sig was so close, and Rowan could smell his cologne, feel his body heat, and taste his kiss, all while he danced.

After that song was over, the two on the couch threw money onto the stage, and he nodded to them, but said, “I’m not working tonight. Maybe tip the other dancers, gentlemen.”

The one that had stared so hard before simply smiled at him and held up a money clip filled with bills. Sig stood and handed him a water bottle, and he drank half of it down. “You look so damn good up here.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Sigmund.”

“God, you’re making me crazy. After another song, I’m going to go reserve a private room for us.”

“Sounds good.”