Strictly Yours: Hooded Pleasures, Book 3 (4 page)

Chapter Three

She was angry and pissed off and in no mood to be driving.

That didn’t stop her from heading along Lake Shore Boulevard in the left-hand lane, taking the fastest route home.

The driver behind her honked his horn, probably upset she dared to go only ten miles over the speed limit.

Jen threw up her middle finger in front of the rearview mirror, telling him exactly what she thought of his discomfort.

He flashed by on her right with another blast and raced down the road.

Asshole.

Her mind flashed back to being on the couch with Nathan, his soft-spoken offer tearing down her defenses like they were wet tissue paper. It’d taken all her self-control to take control again and finish the session properly.

You let Lucas in.

You let the bastard into your mind, and look where it got you. Scared enough to alert Nathan something’s wrong in your life.

It was her own damn fault.

When she stepped out of her car at Nathan’s house, she had to be Danielle, the Domme he wanted and needed.

Not Jennifer Lowell, worried about a possible danger coming back into her life.

She thought she could keep the two worlds separate.

Except Nathan had seen it in her eyes, the underlying fear digging into her heart and soul, invading everything she said and did.

Including, obviously, her alter-ego life as a Dominatrix.

None of her other clients had picked up on it during the past week. True, there was only Jake and Charles—she didn’t have as full a workload as some of Hooded Pleasures’ employees—but neither of them had caught on to the issues clouding her reality.

She rubbed her hands on the black leather covering her steering wheel, the heater blasting as much hot air as she could get.

This would not do.

She couldn’t afford not to be at her best when dealing with her men. They deserved her devotion and dedication, not a half-assed effort. It wasn’t fair to them for her to be distracted by personal issues.

Her mind coughed up logical arguments as it’d done for the past week.

Tanner’s on parole.

He wouldn’t dare try to contact you.

He’s got bigger problems than you. Man’s got to rebuild his life, and he’s got to be looking forward, not backward.

Jen recited the points over and over, feeling the grip on her heart slowly lessen.

The logic helped her stay focused on driving, but it still nagged at the back of her mind.

What if he hasn’t moved on?

She drove by the parking lot entrance three times, circling her block as she looked around for anything, anyone out of place.

* * * * *

Nathan lay in the tub, indulging in one of his favorite post-session pastimes.

The whiskey tasted wonderful. It was an expensive vice, one he reserved for special occasions.

Like this.

He took a sip from the glass in his left hand, thinking about Danielle. The bath salts had removed the worst of the sting from his ass and back, the flogging and spanking a delicious treat to his system. If he did it right, he’d feel no more aches and pains than if he’d gone to the gym for a hard workout session.

Speaking of hard—

Usually one of her visits left him grabbing at his cock as soon as she left, seeking that release he wasn’t allowed with her present. The rules made it even more addictive, the tension of holding back until the door closed behind her and the car left the driveway pushing his need to new heights.

But this time he hadn’t been so much aroused as concerned.

Curious.

Worried.

Those emotions had quieted his need for release, his sexual desire dampened by an overriding concern for his Domme.

In the months he’d spent with Danielle, she’d always been careful not to bring anything into the session from outside. He knew it was part of the job—she couldn’t get emotionally involved with him. Kate had made that very clear during their time together. But there was a point when she’d arrived when Danielle had clocked out mentally, and it wasn’t because she was getting too turned on.

She was worried about something, something she wasn’t able to put away for the brief visit with him.

There was something horrible nipping at her heels. He doubted anyone else would have caught on. Kate, the only Domme he’d had until Danielle, had been good at hiding her emotions, as she needed to be.

But he was a cop.

And he knew what fear looked like.

He took another sip and rolled the smooth liquor around his mouth as he contemplated his options.

Ask her?

He already had. And she’d refused to tell him.

Investigate on my own?

Not possible. He didn’t know anything about Danielle other than that she came to his door once a week for their sessions. Hooded Pleasures wouldn’t give him any information—standard policy. It protected both of them from themselves, as it were.

Sit and wait?

He shifted in the tub, sending lukewarm water sloshing over the edges and onto the bath mat. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it’d have to do for now.

Until she decided to talk to him, take him into her confidence.

Nathan lifted the glass in front of him and studied the amber liquid.

Danielle was one special lady.

He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her if he could do anything about it.

Nathan placed the glass on the floor and settled back into the water.

He’d go from here to bed, sleep soundly until he had to get up and go back out that evening.

He hoped his Domme would be able to do the same.

* * * * *

Jen looked around as she pulled into the parking lot again, a bit more attentive to her surroundings than before. The attendant waved and gave her a thumbs-up as she walked toward the elevator.

The doorman at the front desk nodded as she passed by to check her mailbox.

Nothing.

Not even a letter from her mother.

She went upstairs and locked the apartment door behind her before settling into her regular routine. Laundry, a light meal and coffee. Then a shower and into bed to rest up before getting ready for work.

The familiar chores helped settle her, calm her down.

Handwashing the corset made her smile as she remembered Nathan’s response to it.

And that little trick with your age—

Priceless.

She knew Nathan was thirty-two years old.

He did not know she was twenty-seven, putting five years between them.

He didn’t have to know anything other than she was his Domme and to obey her.

Jen laughed as she let the water out of the sink and prepared to roll the delicate clothing in a towel to dry it.

She loved a man with a sense of humor. Another submissive might whine about being tricked, grumble about not getting what he wanted.

Not Nathan.

Jen forced herself to keep thinking about Nathan, about the enjoyment she’d had and had definitely given him.

She was not going to let Lucas Tanner take over her life.

She’d be damned if she let him occupy a moment more of her thoughts.

Jen put the towel on the counter and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, reliving the conversation she’d had with her submissive over her age.

Nathan had walked right into that trap.

She giggled as she headed for the living room.

Man like that, he should know better.

She doubted he’d done it on purpose—she was usually pretty good on knowing when submissives were trying to control the scene.

Topping from the bottom wasn’t Nathan’s style.

The sweet memory of his shocked expression sent a jolt of heat down to her core.

Such a handsome man.

Such a—

It didn’t take much for her imagination to take hold, running the scenario far beyond anything she’d done with the willing policeman.

Nathan knelt at her feet, eyes down.

Waiting for instruction.

Jen leaned back on the couch. She stretched out her left leg and wedged her foot between his knees, prying his knees apart.

He grunted as he shuffled to accommodate her, hands dutifully behind his back.

The shoes were expensive, black leather bands crisscrossing her entire foot and partially up the ankle.

The cost was worth it to see the desire in his eyes.

Jen moved her right foot between his legs, gently pressing in.

He stayed silent, but his flagging cock sprang to attention, struggling against the solid shoe.

She rubbed it back and forth, reveling in the groans and gasps escaping as he tried to stay still, tried to maintain control.

Nathan was a shoe man.

Time to give him something to work with.

“My feet are sore.” She retracted her right foot to wave the black straps in his face. “I need a foot rub. Get to work.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The slow rumble reached her ears as he pulled his hands around to caress the soft skin.

Jen sighed as he carefully undid the buckle and pulled the straps free, exposing her foot. He bent over and kissed the soft skin, his lips skimming over the surface until he sat up again.

His strong hands massaged, caressed, fondled her bare skin until she was at the point of—

That’s enough
, her imagination warned.
Enough walking on the wild side for now.

Jen opened her eyes.

Sometimes it was the little things that were the sexiest. Foot rubs, making dinner, picking up the laundry.

Sometimes she didn’t like being alone so much.

She put her coffee down and picked up the cloth wraps from the table.

Time for some stress relief.

It wasn’t usually part of her morning routine, but right now it seemed like the best way to relax. It was either this or grabbing the vibrator out of her bedside table and this appealed more to her at present.

Mentally she put Nathan into a box and set him on the shelf, putting him aside for the time being.

Love you to death, but I can’t think about you all the time.

She changed into her workout clothing and set about working the punching bag, feeling the power in her hands every time she slapped the leather.

Not as good as sex.

But it’ll have to do.

Jen grinned as she landed another right hook.

* * * * *

The streets were quiet tonight. Nathan would have said too quiet, but that would have tempted fate, and right now he didn’t want any bad luck.

The world could spin on a dime, and he’d land flat on his ass the way his mind was everywhere—except on the job.

Nathan glanced at the young man in the seat
beside him sipping from a disposable cup.

McDaniels was a quick learner, a smart man who would go far if he wanted to.

He also didn’t mind picking up the tab for coffee every now and then, which made him a great partner.

They were sitting in the parking lot of the same convenience store they’d visited earlier in the week.

“This isn’t half-bad.” McDaniels looked over at Nathan. “Once you add a shit ton of sugar and creamer.”

“And hold your nose,” Nathan added. He looked into his own thick drink. “Put hair on your chest.”

“I’ve got enough, thank you very much.” The young man motioned at the nearby empty street corner. “It seems your idea worked.”

“At least for now.” Nathan grimaced as he took another mouthful. “Not a perfect world, but we do what we can.”

“I was telling Allie about this. She approved your idea,” Henry said.

Nathan laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. Anything else we need to run by your wife?”

Henry’s face went red. “Don’t be giving me a hard time. I talk to her about stuff like this.”

“I’m not.” Nathan took another sip and grimaced. “This job gets to be hard at times, and it’s good to have someone on your side, someone you can chat to.”

The rookie looked over. “You got no ring on. Someone special in your life?”

“Never found the right lady. Don’t get me wrong—I’ve had quite the dance card.” Nathan chuckled. “Just not lucky enough to find the right one yet.”

He wasn’t going to tell Henry about the near-misses, the women he’d dated who had been good in bed and wonderful to be with.

Because, without fail, as soon as he mentioned his rather unusual wishes, they’d found a reason to cut and run. Some did so on good terms, with a smile and a wish for his good future, and others had laughed and walked out the door.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy sex.

He just liked to add stripes to the vanilla.

Henry shrugged. “Can’t ask for more than that.”

I can. I do.

Nathan took another swig of coffee and thought for the umpteenth time about Danielle.

She was worried about something, and he wanted to help her.

Because she was his Mistress.

Because he cared about her.

Probably more than a client should.

But he wasn’t going to apologize for being who he was.

And he had the power and the ability to help.

He couldn’t stand by and let this continue.

He had to figure out how to get her to tell him what the hell was going on.

Nathan glanced at Henry, engrossed in drinking his coffee.

Protect and serve.

It wasn’t just a motto painted on the side of his car.

Chapter Four

Jen hadn’t thought about Lucas for days. To be more accurate, she didn’t have the time to think about him. Between the local flu outbreak that had filled the clinic with nonstop requests for inoculations and another employee booking off sick and giving her double shifts for most of the week, she had barely been able to make her appointments with her Hooded Pleasure clients.

Those she wouldn’t have missed for the world.

Jake and Charles were wonderful men, excellent fellows and lovely submissives. They deserved her attention and her devotion, and she was glad to give it to them, accept their gift and return it with interest.

Nathan was scheduled for tomorrow, Sunday.

Frankly, she needed the break from work. It’d turned out to be a crazy shift from the start, the evening crowd rushing in for everything from a mild cold to a suspected heart attack that had to be immediately rerouted to the nearby emergency room via ambulance.

But the light at the end of the tunnel was her appointment with Nathan.

She tapped on the keyboard, suppressing the thrill surging through her body at the anticipation.

He was her favorite.

Technically, she shouldn’t have favorites. Technically they were all the same and all deserved to be treated the same—but Nathan held a special place in her heart for some reason, and she looked forward to their appointments with a bit more enthusiasm than the others.

She knew it was wrong, in a way. The rules said not to develop any attachment to a client. But Wendy had made it clear there also had to be some sort of connection there between Domme and submissive, some emotional link. Otherwise, there’d be nothing more there than a mechanical response to a need. It was a tricky line to toe, and Wendy noted many of Hooded Pleasures’ employees didn’t last more than a year.

It wasn’t as if Jen didn’t have a social life.

Every few weeks, she went to Boots ’n’ Chains, a local BDSM club, to clear her head from both jobs. It cost a mint to keep her membership up, but it was a good place, a safe place where she could let her hair down and relax with her peers.

She rarely hooked up with anyone for more than a single session since beginning her work for HP, choosing to sit at the bar and chat with the other members for most of her visits. Once in a while she’d help with a new arrival, try to make him or her comfortable while they figured out what was going on around them and how much they wanted to participate. Or not.

Sometimes a Domme would bring over her latest toy for Jen to play with, letting the submissive have the pleasure of two women disciplining him in public.

It was fun, and in the end, the Domme would take her man off to the back room to finish off the night, leaving Jen at the bar.

She didn’t mind.

Jen enjoyed seeing connections made and couples forming on and off the dance floor. Once in a while, a sub would offer himself to her, but she usually turned him down with a smile and a pat on the ass to send him off to another Domme.

She loved the public scenes.

She’d been there the night Kate brought Alex out to the St. Andrew’s cross.

A delicious shiver tickled her spine at the memory.

It had been glorious to behold. Alex had looked so strong, so handsome strapped to the polished wood, and Kate—

Perfect.

That was the only word Jen could find to describe the two of them together at their first public scene. They’d done others since, but none had set off such an emotional explosion as the first time.

She remembered seeing tears in the eyes of the other Doms and Dommes at the bar, their submissives barely breathing as they watched Kate and Alex.

Jen only hoped she’d find such love, such a perfect match at some point in her life. She hadn’t found it at the club through her infrequent hookups with the lovely men there. She hadn’t found it the few times she’d met someone outside of the club despite Colleen’s best efforts to set her up.

She just hadn’t clicked with anyone yet.

But Nathan—

She shut off that line of thinking as a clipboard landed atop the counter, dangerously close to her head.

“I filled this out.” The tall man sniffled and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve, leaving a green mucus smear. “Can I see the doctor now?”

* * * * *

Nathan knelt in the living room, trying hard not to smile. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed these sessions with Danielle much more than he ever had with Kate.

Danielle and he just…clicked. There wasn’t any other way to explain it. He knew it was a paid service and she wasn’t supposed to get any more into the scene than she needed to fulfill his needs.

Still—

The door opened, and he forgot everything other than the need to serve his Mistress.

He heard the soft thud of the door and the rat-a-tat of her heels on the floor, approaching him.

Her feet appeared in his range of sight, the black stilettos a welcome sight.

The raincoat fell around her feet in a black puddle.

He looked up at the faux police uniform and smirked.

Danielle reached down and tapped him on the chin, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re making eye contact. That’s going to cost you.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

So worth it.

He gritted his teeth as the flogger landed on his back, the single rhinestone studded strand among the leather ones pounding the skin. This particular flogger left marks that would take days to fade.

She’d used it for that exact reason.

The next stroke snaked up between his legs and snapped against his balls.

He gasped and twisted around in surprise, the cuffs holding him in place.

The heated whisper in his ear almost pushed him over the edge. “I said that would cost you.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” he gasped. His cock rubbed against the cool varnished wood. He’d installed the whipping post in one corner of his playroom, the thick pillar allowing him to stretch his arms up for bondage and punishment. It was expensive, but he had few other vices to spend his money on, and without anyone else sharing the house, it allowed him to imagine he was at one of the clubs.

Right now it was serving its purpose and doing it well. She’d worked him over for a good hour, flogging the hell out of his back and ass with paddles and floggers, the last one specifically created to leave marks he could see in the bathroom mirror. It had a special tail woven into the others, the shiny squares leaving a vibrant imprint on his skin. The skin was raised but not broken—just the way he liked it. Every once in a while, she’d pause to let him recover, just long enough to catch his breath, and then she’d start again with a different flogger or paddle. The variety kept him constantly on the edge.

No matter how often they went through this routine, it was always different, some aspect changing just slightly to keep it fresh in his mind. She’d switch up the floggers, bring harder or softer paddles, focus solely on his shoulders or on his ass, whipping the back of his legs until he couldn’t take any more.

He never got bored, never knew what to expect.

Nathan groaned as she dug her nails into his ass.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to come.

“You like that,” she murmured in his ear. “Good. I love seeing you fight to keep control.”

The hot whisper made it even harder.

In every sense of the word.

Danielle stepped back, and Nathan tensed up, knowing what was next.

One last burst of flogging, his back and shoulders aching as his hips bucked forward instinctively to get away from the pain and rubbing against the post.

He ground his teeth together, reaching for that last shred of self-control.

It wasn’t as if he was a young man afraid of coming in his pants the first time a woman brushed her hand against his cock. He was a man and in full control of his urges, full command of his body and ruler of his domain.

But even the best rulers had to deal with rebellions.

He forced himself to remember the first visit he’d had with Kate, struggling with the urge to come.

She had pushed him to his limit right from the start and threatened not only to stop immediately if he came, but to make him clean the mess up with a toothbrush.

The threat should have helped him keep control.

It’d had the reverse effect.

Kate sat there on the couch in front of him, raincoat buttoned up to the top to hide every bit of her beautiful outfit, and played with her cell phone while he scrubbed three square feet of the hardwood floor clean with the toothbrush she’d brought for such an occasion.

Every few minutes, she’d trickle water over Nathan’s lowered head to create a small puddle for him to work with. Eventually she let him finish up with a washcloth tucked between his teeth, making him polish the floor.

It’d sucked up more than half of his appointment, but the lesson had been well learned.

But right here, right now, with Danielle slapping his ass and every stroke flashing straight to his cock and balls—

He gritted his teeth so hard, he could have sworn he heard a crown pop off.

I’m going to—

She stopped.

Nathan slumped against the post, mentally and physically exhausted.

“Lovely. Just Lovely.” She murmured other compliments as he hung there, sweat dribbling down his chest.

So close.

Nathan pushed his breath out through clenched teeth, pulling back from the edge.

She caressed his ass. “Hands up. Let’s take it over to the couch.”

He grunted as her hands drew over his arms and reached up to unlock the cuffs. They were good leather, secure enough to take his thrashing as he twisted back and forth. He’d ordered them special from the same place that had provided the whipping post, and they remained chained to the thick wood despite his best attempts to pull them free.

He’d ordered them after Kate’s first visit when she’d used her own, getting a referral from her as to what would suit her needs best. She’d been impressed but cautious, pointing out he didn’t have to purchase anything—HP Dommes brought everything they needed.

Nathan had placed the order for the whipping post with the same company not long after that, dipping into his savings.

Mine.

Every time he went into the basement, he saw it and knew it was a part of him, a cherished piece of his soul he could no longer deny.

He loved when Danielle bound him to the post.

She drew the strap through the buckles slowly before flipping them away from his aching wrists. The insides were felt lined so there wouldn’t be any visible bruises despite his twisting and turning.

There was only so much he could pass off at work as exercise-related injuries.

Nathan winced as he straightened, feeling his back muscles protest. His left shoulder ached, and not in a good way. He rolled it back and forth with a pained grunt.

“Are you okay?” She was at his ear in a second, stroking his shoulder.

“I’m good.” He bent back and heard his spine pop like he’d stepped on a roll of bubble wrap.

Oh yeah.

He staggered the handful of steps to the couch where she was waiting, part of him glad the session was over and the other part wishing he could have her for the entire day.

And night.

Danielle laid out the two cans of energy drink along with a small open packet of chocolates and two granola bars, all from Nathan’s pre-stocked cooler set beside the couch.

After all she did for him, the least he could do was supply the treats.

Sometimes she added her own goodies to the stash, like the raspberry hard candies he adored. She’d never told him where she bought them, despite his best efforts to wheedle the information out of her.

Nathan sighed as he half sat, half fell onto the light brown cushions next to her.

Danielle moved closer and drew the blanket over him. She pulled him into a tight hug and stroked his arms.

“You were wonderful.”

Nathan nuzzled her neck and smelled her unique sweet scent, heightened by their mutual sweat. “So were you.”

Danielle tapped the ring at the front of his collar with a disapproving pout.

“Mistress,” he added with a grin.

She smiled and offered him two chocolates that melted in his mouth, giving him a fast sugar rush.

He licked his lips, letting the endorphins ease out of his system. The brief rush into subspace was glorious, as it always was, but coming down sucked big-time.

The rush was so worth it, however.

“It’s time.” The wistful tone in her words washed away the last of his euphoria. She reached for the small key on the table. A few seconds later, the collar was off and sat on the table, waiting until their next session. It was the last official act of her visit, and now there was nothing left than the rest and recovery for them both.

Danielle reached for her phone and tapped in her code, signaling the end of the session. Nathan knew and approved of the safety features, another reason why he liked Hooded Pleasures.

He blinked as she froze, her eyes wide as she studied the screen.

Nathan tensed.

Something was off.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She put the phone down and reached for the drink. She took a deep swig before handing it to him.

“Bullshit.” He enjoyed the flash of surprise in her eyes at his curse. “Something upset you. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Danielle repeated. “I’m fine.” She entwined her fingers and placed her hands on one knee.

He saw the tension in her muscles and the trace of a tremble.

Hell, no.

Nathan drained the can and crushed it in his hand as he tried to quell his rising temper. “Damn it, I’m a cop. I know when someone’s upset. Your body language tells me as much as mine tells you when you’re dominating me.” He deposited the mangled can on the table. “I know you’re upset. Something freaked you the fuck out, and I want to do whatever I can to not have that happen.”

She flinched at his strong language.

Nathan hid a smile. He tried never to swear unless the situation called for it, and this was the first and second time she’d heard curse words from him.