Page 13 of Owned

“Ew,” Isabel said. “Could you not with my dad?”

Zara lifted a middle finger in her direction without looking away from Ten and Isabel laughed.

I could see that this was going to devolve into a friendly argument, and I had shit to do. All the love stuff was sweet enough to take the enamel off your teeth and I was tired of it.

I was happy for both of my friends that they’d found women who were their partners in every way, but I didn’t envy them. I wasn’t the settling down type, and had never wanted to be.

My first marriage had been a transaction and so would the second one. There would be no feelings involved, nothing messy or complicated, and that was just the way I liked it. A favor to my friend, that’s all.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” I said, getting to my feet. “Some of us gotta work.”

Ten looked at me. “I’ll do it,” he said.

I knew what meant. He’d be my best man. But I shook my head. “No need. I was kidding and it’s not a big deal.”

“What isn’t a big deal?” Isabel asked, green eyes glancing my way, curious as ever.

“You don’t want to know,” I said, grinning at her.

“Yes, I do,” she protested.

“Well,” I said. “There’s this woman and I want to?—”

“No fucking thank you, Atlas,” Caleb interrupted, giving me a hard look.

I laughed and left them to it.

5

Rowan

I got the call out of the blue, a couple of days after running into Atlas at that stupid sex club. I was in my cramped little kitchen, making scrambled eggs for Mom for breakfast even though I knew it would make me late for work.

She tended not to eat anything during the day if I wasn’t around, but she would if I made it for her, so I tried to make sure she had something in the mornings at least.

I was at the stove, still in my dressing gown, adding more milk to the scramble in the pan as I tried not to think about Atlas Blackwood for the third time that morning, which considering it was seven thirty, was something.

The damn man had been haunting my thoughts since I’d watched him with that woman in Arcadia, and it just felt so…wrong.

He was nearly twice my age, had been married to my mom, and there was no way I should find him attractive, and yet I couldn’t get him out of my head.

The pure, hard lines of his face. The gleam of tawny in his hair. The molten gold of his eyes. His delicious scent. Everything about him seemed to hone in on some deeply buried part of me that found him so overwhelmingly gorgeous that it was difficult not to think of him.

The night before, I’d tossed and turned in my bed, trying to find a cool place on my pillow, my brain insisting on replaying every moment of that scene in Arcadia. I’d been so tired of resisting my own thoughts that I’d thrown myself into it, imagining myself as that woman with him behind me, moving inside me. I’d put my hand between my legs, thinking about him, thinking about him doing that to me, his hand gripping the back of my neck, all possessive and dominant, and almost as soon as I’d touched myself, I’d come, turning my face into the pillow to muffle my cries.

It was crazy. I was crazy. I’d never had a response like that to any man before and it scared me. It felt as if the whole thing was out of my control and I didn’t like that one bit.

Sex was fun, Mom had told me when she’d given me the ‘the talk’. It was no big deal. Yet, I knew she was lying, because it had to be a big deal otherwise why would she cry about it at night sometimes when she thought I was asleep? No, sex was not fun, I’d already decided. There was something terrible and mysterious about it that made people desperate and unhappy, and I wanted no part of that.

Tina hadn’t been unhappy in Arcadia.

I glared at the pan full of eggs, shoving that thought from my head, because I really didn’t need it there.

Just then my phone sitting on the counter went off, so I grabbed it, hitting the answer button as I picked up the wooden spoon I was using to fuss with the eggs.

“Rowan James?” The woman’s voice was firm and authoritative.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, jabbing at the eggs.

---