Serving Him Read online

  Chapter Three

  Rowan stood outside Briar Rose Cottage, two bulging holdalls at his feet. He couldn’t believe how time had flown since his interview at The Underground. It had been almost a month but felt more like five minutes since he’d returned from London and handed in his notice to Alvin at the hotel. Rowan had been flattered when Alvin had tried to persuade him to change his mind and stay but even the prospect of new responsibilities and a raise couldn’t tempt him. He hadn’t given Alvin all the details about his new role, just that it would give him an opportunity to provide more personal service to guests at a smaller, more intimate establishment. Alvin hadn’t pressed for more information and at Rowan’s leaving party, organized by Ed, he’d given a touching speech about how he hoped his training might influence Rowan’s career in the future.

  Ed had been almost as excited as Rowan when he’d heard the news about his success. On his night off he’d come round to the cottage. He and Rowan had camped out on Rowan’s bed with pizza, ice cream and fizzy drinks in a variety of chemically enhanced colors. Ed had insisted that Rowan give him a second by second commentary of his entire visit to London. He’d wanted to know every detail.

  “If I didn’t know better,” Rowan said, “I’d think you were hankering after a job at The Retreat too. You seem awfully interested in what I’m going to be doing.”

  Ed waved a floppy piece of pizza at him. “Let’s just say I want to live vicariously through you. I’m basically a galley slave, so I think my career path has some similarities to yours.” He chuckled.

  “I’m not going into slavery,” Rowan protested. “Though…that can be an element of the lifestyle.” Teasing Ed was fun. “Seriously, I’m not losing my freedom here. It’s a job—just a little different from the norm. Besides, I swear Rory went over the contracts with a magnifying glass. She checked every letter. Twice.” He grabbed another slice of ham and mushroom before Ed could steal it. “From a legal perspective, she said the contracts were more than fair. In fact if she’d been working for Mr. Hoffman, she would have advised him to make them slightly less favorable.”

  “I’m just jealous.” Ed flopped onto his back.

  “If you keep eating pizza like that, you’re going to choke and then I’ll be minus one best friend. Sit up, for goodness sake.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Ed shoved some pillows behind his back and got a bit more upright. “I’m going to miss you, and yes I know I sound whiny.”

  “I’ll miss you too,” Rowan admitted. “But I’ll have my phone with me. We can talk every night if you want to.”

  “Might be difficult if your client has a fondness for ball gags.” Ed managed to keep a straight face for all of ten seconds before he dissolved into hysterical laughter. Rowan sighed. He grabbed Bilbo for a hug.

  “I get more sense out of you, Bilbo.”

  Since that night, Ed had teased Rowan continuously. Rowan suspected he had been cruising the leather shops online because he seemed to have gained rather an extensive knowledge of BDSM equipment and toys. Just thinking about some of their discussions in the staff breakroom made Rowan laugh. He thought his vanilla-flavored friend might just be discovering his kinky side.

  Rowan had discovered his love of kink much, much earlier. He’d been eighteen, brand-new to the gay dating scene, and had stumbled across the only leather bar in the nearest town. He could still recall that evening, the new sights, sounds and smells which had tantalized his senses and fired his imagination. He’d been scared out of his wits at the uninhibited approaches from men twice his age, then an older guy in beaten-up leathers who went by the name of Axel had bought him an orange juice before giving him a running commentary on the action. Axel had become a good friend, as had his long-term partner and submissive, Franz. Without them, Rowan was under no illusion that he would have been eaten alive. His introduction to the scene had been gradual, gentle and educational. He’d avoided those sites on the Internet that purported to reflect the lifestyle but were actually fantasy and learned from men who lived BDSM twenty-four seven. He’d been fortunate and he knew it. He’d always be grateful to the people who’d shared their lives and experiences with him, teaching him to be comfortable in his own skin.

  “And now here I am.” Rowan stared down the road. Once all his paperwork had been completed, Carey had called him to let him know that a car would be sent to collect him, to take him to Hampshire. Rowan had been expecting a taxi, but the car that pulled up at the curb next to him was a sleek, black limousine with tinted windows. Rowan gaped—he couldn’t believe the car was for him—but then the driver’s door opened and a chauffeur, dressed in a smart gray uniform complete with peaked cap, got out.

  “Mr. Stanton?”

  Rowan nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “You’re expecting a ride to The Retreat?” The chauffeur gave him a cheeky grin, then winked. “Not one of the Doms on the staff then? I’m Rayne, that’s r-a-y-n-e,” he spelled. “Not rain the weather. Suppose I should be grateful for that. It’s a small mercy because my parents were a pair of pot-smoking hippies and I could have ended up being Rainbow Moonchild or something. In fact, they’re still a pair of hippies, they aren’t dead or anything.”

  Rowan chuckled and took a closer look at his driver. A mop of light brown hair stuck out from beneath Rayne’s cap. He had brown eyes, a scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and lips that seem to be curved permanently into a smile. He was about Rowan’s height, but a little broader in the shoulders.

  “Nice to meet you.” Rowan spoke before Rayne wondered about the amount of staring going on.

  “Those your bags?” Rayne gestured to Rowan’s holdalls. He didn’t wait for an answer but popped the boot then placed both bags inside. “You travel light.”

  “I’m the houseboy,” Rowan said, hoping that was adequate explanation.

  “Ah, so you won’t be needing that much in the way of clothes then, except for days off and in between clients of course.” Rayne held the back door of the car open. “In you get.”

  “Oh… Can’t I travel in the front with you?”

  Rayne grinned. “Of course you can. Your wish is my command, at least for the length of this journey anyway.”

  Rowan relaxed into the plush leather seat—it was the most luxurious car he’d ever been inside. “This must be great to drive.”

  “It is. When I got the job I couldn’t believe this would be mine to look after. I’m a bit of a petrol head, so it’s a dream come true.”

  “So what will you be doing at The Retreat?” Rowan asked.

  “Personal chauffeur for the clients,” Rayne replied. “While they are in residence, I’m on call twenty-four hours a day to take them wherever they want to go. When I’m not needed by the clients I’ll run errands for the manager.”

  “And do you have…any other duties?” Rowan wasn’t brave enough to ask the question he really wanted to.

  “You mean any of the kinky stuff?” Rayne laughed. “I think that’s more your line, but let’s just say if any of them have chauffeur fantasies I’ll be quite happy to oblige. I just hope that if they want me to wash the car in my birthday suit, they wait for a warm day.” He rolled his eyes.

  “How did you find out about the opening?”

  “I was working for the private hire firm that Carey uses for members of The Underground when they need a car. One day I had to go into the club to find a client and that was that. I liked what I saw and joined the next day. Carey gave me an amazing deal on membership. Then when the driving job for The Retreat came up, he asked me if I’d be interested. I don’t even mind the uniform.”

  The journey to Hampshire went by like a flash. Rayne was great company and chatted most of the way. He was much more outgoing than Rowan, but he listened too and asked Rowan lots of questions about why he’d chosen to take the job at The Retreat. He also told Rowan as much as he could about the other staff who were already in place. Rowan was a little nervous about meeting Tor, the chef, and t
he man he would be reporting to, Luke Redding, but Rayne insisted that they were both approachable and patient.

  Rowan’s parents had taken him on holiday to the New Forest when he was about ten, but he hadn’t been back since. He loved the dappled light cast by the trees over the lanes and even caught a glimpse of some ponies. It was a beautiful part of the country. Entry to The Retreat was gained through huge wrought-iron gates with the name of the place worked into the metal. They swung open as the car approached. “Number plate recognition,” Rayne explained at Rowan’s curious glance. “Security here isn’t obvious, but the guests’ privacy is guaranteed. There are quite a few cameras around the place and some silent alarms.”

  Rowan looked eagerly for his first view of the house, though it was a while before the building came into view. Rayne had described it but it more than exceeded Rowan’s expectations. The Gothic mansion sat at the center of a vast clearing in the forest. The ivy-clad golden stone glowed in the sunlight. Towers, turrets and arches sprouted from a mismatched set of buildings, giving Rowan the impression of a fairy-tale castle.

  “It’s spectacular!”

  “It is impressive, isn’t it?” Rayne guided the car beneath an elaborate stone portico into a wide courtyard, parking in front of an open porch. Rowan could just see the arched, wooden front door, furnished with black iron hinges and handle. “I’ll put your luggage in the porch. I’m sure Mr. Redding will be out to meet you shortly. I have to go clean the car then put it away because it’s not needed for the rest of the day. I have to be up early to get to the airport to collect our client.”

  “Thanks for bringing me,” Rowan said. “I really enjoyed the journey.”

  “I get the feeling we’re going to be great friends. I don’t know what Luke’s plan is for you today, but I’ll be in for supper later so I might see you then.” Rayne got out of the car, unloaded Rowan’s bags from the boot then waved as he drove off, leaving Rowan standing next to them. Rowan examined what he could see of this new home, delighting in all the historic architectural details. The building was quirky but beautiful and he couldn’t wait to see inside.

  He spun around as the door behind him opened. Only the slightest creak of the hinges had given the movement away. The man standing in the doorway was tall, Rowan guessed at least six-three. He had a military bearing, holding himself very straight with his shoulders pushed back. His handsome features caught Rowan’s attention, but it was his eyes that captured Rowan’s gaze. They were a clear shade of green that Rowan hadn’t often seen and seemed to drill through to his soul. It was all Rowan could do to maintain eye contact and not look away.

  “Good morning. You must be Rowan Stanton. I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

  “Yes, thank you, sir. Rayne was very kind and the trip passed quickly.”

  “Rayne is a chatterbox, but a great chauffeur. As you’ve probably worked out, I’m Luke Redding, the general manager. I’ll be taking you through your induction today.”

  Rowan gulped. This man was his new boss and he was a little scary. Other than his name, Rowan didn’t know anything about him. Carey Hoffman had mentioned him in the letter about Rowan’s travel arrangements, but that was all. Rowan’s instincts told him Luke was a Dom. He exuded a sense of complete control and didn’t seem like anything, short of a major natural disaster would faze him. In fact, Rowan could imagine him as the hero in any number of bad end-of-the-world movies he and Ed had watched on the Syfy Channel.

  “Would you like to come in, or would you prefer to stand there staring for the rest of the day?” Luke asked.

  “Oh! Sorry… It’s just that there’s so much to take in.” Rowan grabbed his bags then heaved them into the entrance hall, following Luke’s lead. In front of him a double staircase swept upward in graceful curves to a galleried landing. A spectacular, circular stained-glass window was set in the wall above the gallery, casting multicolored streams of light across the hall.

  “There are five guest bedrooms, all accessed via the gallery,” Luke explained. “But I’ll take you through to the staff quarters first. You can leave your bags in your room and there will be time later this evening for you to unpack. As our guest arrives tomorrow, I’ll give you a full tour then some time to explore on your own because it’s important that you know the building well. Of all the staff here, you will have the most direct contact with Mr. Wilder and if he asks you a question you need to be able to answer it. After lunch, we’ll spend some time together and I will give you a briefing on Mr. Wilder’s likes and dislikes and on the duties you will be required to carry out around the house. Do you have any questions?”

  Rowan had hundreds, but none that he felt able to ask at that moment. It was the first time he’d heard the client’s name, which sounded dangerous and exciting. He shook his head. “No, not right now, thank you, sir.”

  Luke led him through a labyrinth of corridors, then up a flight of stairs to a plush, carpeted passage giving access to several doors.

  “Your room is at the far end.” Luke pushed the door open then held it so that Rowan could get inside with his bags, which he immediately placed on the floor. The room was much larger than he had expected, square in shape with a double bed, fitted wardrobe and large chest of drawers. It was decorated in calming shades of cream and green and the bed was covered by a bright quilt and a stack of pillows. “This is your space,” Luke said. “No one will come in here without your permission. There’s no lock, but you have no need to worry about security. Depending on Mr. Wilder’s requirements, it could be that you spend very little time in here. His needs must come first but if he doesn’t require your services, and you have completed your duties, you are free to come here as you wish.”

  Rowan wandered over to the window where there was a beautiful view of the forest. The Retreat was isolated, no doubt about it, but Rowan found that comforting. The window was open a fraction and for a moment, Rowan listened to the sounds filtering in from outside that were so different from home. He imagined that the constant rustle of the leaves must be like living close to the sea, where continuous, familiar noise lingered at the back of your mind whilst not being intrusive. “I think I’m going to like it here.” He spoke only to himself, but Luke heard him.

  “I hope so. Not everyone deals well with the tranquility, but life moves at a slower pace here. You’ll be busy, but there’s none of the frantic pressure of the city.”

  Rowan explored his room a little more, discovering an en suite bathroom with a full-size tub and separate walk-in shower. He hadn’t expected nearly so much luxury for his own accommodation and, as if sensing his surprise, Luke gave a low chuckle.

  “Mr. Hoffman treats his staff extremely well. In return, he and I expect you to work hard and give the service our guests expect.” He turned toward the door. “Come with me. We’ve a lot to get through today.”

  Rowan followed obediently. Luke had a way of speaking that demanded compliance without being aggressive and Rowan’s submissive nature responded to the tone, which made him feel safe somehow. He had to move quickly to keep up with Luke, who set a rapid pace.

  “We’ll start in my office, which is where I will give you a briefing before every new client. I’ll also expect you to report to me at least once a week. We’ll arrange that time at Mr. Wilder’s convenience, of course. He must always be your first priority.”

  Luke retraced his steps back to the entrance hall. “Here we are.” He opened a door that was almost concealed in the wood paneling and made Rowan wonder if there were other secret places in the house. It was certainly old enough. Luke’s office was immaculate. He took a seat behind an expansive, leather-topped desk, pulling out a folder from a drawer. He didn’t invite Rowan to sit so he stood with his hands clasped behind his back to keep from fidgeting.

  “A few ground rules first,” Luke said. “You will address Mr. Wilder as Sir unless he instructs you otherwise. You can call me Mr. Redding and the chef, who I’ll introduce you to later, is Mr. Halvorsen. You�
�ve already met Rayne and first names are fine with the rest of the staff—that’s Benjy and Frank in the kitchen, the cleaning crew and groundsmen, though you won’t come across them often. The only people entitled to give you orders are the client, me and, in my absence, Mr. Halvorsen. He acts as my deputy when I’m not here. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mr. Redding.”

  “Good. Now, your meal times will be by agreement with Mr. Wilder. He may want you to join him, or he may prefer that you serve him and eat separately. If that’s the case, he will be aware that he has to give you time to take meals. Your working day will start at whatever time he needs you and finish when he’s done with you. If he wants you with him overnight, that’s his prerogative.” Luke paused, steepling his fingers in front of him. “You’ve read the contract. Outside of it, it is up to you what you do with the client but, be assured, you are under no obligation to have sex with him. This is not a brothel.”

  Rowan nodded his understanding.

  “If you feel pressured in any way, you are to come to me immediately and I will deal with the situation.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan said. “I appreciate that.” He sincerely hoped he would never have cause to need his boss for that reason. “Um… There was something in the contract about oral contact. I agreed to that.”

  “You did. I have Mr. Wilder’s medical certification on file and he has seen yours. You are still within your rights to request the use of a condom if that’s what you prefer. I’d like to reassure you that Mr. Wilder has an impeccable reputation as a Dominant.” He leafed through the pile of papers from the folder. “Is there anything you would like to change?”

  “No, thank you. I went over everything very carefully before I signed the contract and I don’t want to change my mind.”