Fool for Love (Believe #2) by Karen Ferry Page B

I do.
    Or the way I used to, it would seem.
    A petite brunette, wearing a tightly fitted black dress and a collar at her neck at the other end of the bar, keeps darting her eyes my way, retreating when they meet mine. While I can tell that she knows the game – her demeanour screams submissive to me – I’m not interested.
    The Dom inside me may crave a willing plaything after all these months, but there are none here who are able to tempt me. The thought that my means to escape the memories from my past is no longer working enters my mind, but immediately, I brush it off. I tend to focus on one thing at a time, and tonight, I’m not here to get my dick wet. My sole purpose is to talk with Rowan, and then I’m gone.
    Sadly, I just want this meeting to be over with so that I can return home and rest.
    Fuck being boring.
    I started remembering the night before when Suzy arrived home. I didn’t like the onslaught of fleeting images running through my mind the harder I thought about what happened between us. I need to stay away from her. She’s too good for the likes of me.
    She isn’t fit for my world, and I must be crazy to think of her as a possible sub. My desires are not for her. She wouldn’t be able to handle a man like me – a man with tastes such as mine.
    Yes, it’s madness.
    But when I saw her creamy skin through her red, flimsy, bra when she returned home, her clothes rumpled – fuck me, I had to work so hard to remain in my seat instead of prowling towards her, taking what I craved – demanding with my words and my body to know where she’d been, and with whom. But it’s not my place to demand answers from her.
    I tense when I feel a presence behind me and I turn around to find Rowan standing there, flanked by two women, his arms around their waists.
    “Well, well, well,” he muses on a sneer. “If it isn’t the big, bad wolf who’s come calling.”
    My hand squeezes the tumbler I'm holding, and I almost fear it’ll break. But I keep my face blank.
    This little pup doesn’t want to mess with me.
    “Rowan,” I greet him calmly, trying to assess how high he is already.
    The lopsided grin on his face, and the way he blinks rapidly, unable to focus on me, tells me that he’s long gone. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I wouldn’t think that he was lost in a haze of drugs; but I know him better than I know myself.
    I grit my teeth. “Can we talk?”
    He sighs and scratches the reddish stubble on his chin, before he shakes his head. His hair is cut close on each side, but is longer on the top, and it’s lost the healthy shine that used to be there. His hair used to be ginger. Now it’s darker, dull – lifeless.
    “Sorry, man. I’m about to show these two ladies…” He pauses as the blonde on his right leans into his side and then smirks at me.
    “I’m sure you understand,” he says.
    He’s so pale, it makes me sick, but what can I do?
    Not a damn thing.
    I swallow the last of my whiskey and stand up, putting my hands in my pockets.
    “I’ll come see you in the morning.” I fist my hands to prevent them from grabbing onto the lapels of his suit, trying to shake some sense into him. With my back straight, I turn to move past him.
    “Hey, man, wait!” he calls as he reaches his hand to me. I glance down at the leash he’s offering me, and my stomach coils with repulsion.
    “You know I don’t like my subs like that, Rowan.”
    He shrugs. “I’m sure Isabella is happy to serve you in any way that she can. Aren’t you, hmm?” He pulls slightly on the leash attached to the woman’s collar, and while her head turns to him, her eyes remain downcast. She’s undoubtedly beautiful, but my dick doesn’t want her, and neither do I.
    “Answer,” Rowan commands. She wets her lips.
    “Of course, Sir. I only wish to please your friend.” Her voice is low, pleasant, and it grates on my nerves even when it shouldn’t.
    “There.” Rowan looks at me again, his dilated pupils