Strictly Business: Hooded Pleasures, Book 1 (2 page)

“And that’s by letting you two set me up?”

“You won’t know what you like until you try it,” Mike replied. “You’d be surprised at how interesting some of Jane’s friends might be. They’re into a whole lot of different things.”

Alex glanced to one side where a stack of books sat, the pages well-worn and creased with use.

I doubt they’re into my “different things”.

He chewed on his bottom lip again.

It wasn’t the right time to tell Mike.

It probably would never be.

Jane was a great sister and Mike a fantastic brother-in-law. But for all they shared in their lives, there were definitely some things Alex wanted to keep private.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find the right woman in time, I haven’t given up. But I want to find her on my own, not through friends setting me up on blind dates.” He smiled. “Nothing personal.”

Mike laughed. “I get what you’re saying. I told Jane you wouldn’t go for it, but you know her—gets an idea in her mind, and she’s like a dog with a bone. She just wants her little brother to be happy.”

“I love my sister, but tell her to butt out,” Alex said, grinning. “I’ll find someone on my own.” He looked at the digital clock at the bottom of the screen. “And I have to get back to work. We’re on deadline for
Mercy Killer VIII
.”

“Ooh.” Mike whistled. “Can’t wait. Be sure to send me a promo copy, ’kay?”

Alex nodded and waved good-bye before cutting the connection.

He waited until Mike’s image had faded fully from the screen before picking up one of the tattered books. The cover image was clear about giving clues as to the content, the leather collar prominently displayed on a field of black.

Alex swallowed, thinking of the application he’d filed a few weeks ago. He had been told he’d hear back this weekend regarding his inquiry.

He wasn’t sure what they were looking for but he knew what he needed.

The question hung in the back of his mind.

Am I really a submissive?

Or am I just playing a game with myself?

Alex fumbled through the book, finding the passages he’d marked with yellow highlighter. The sensual passages leaped off the page, sending a warm flush through his body at the vivid descriptions.

He bit his lower lip, resisting the urge to touch himself. It’d become a welcome habit, reading the erotica before going to bed and dreaming of being tied up, at the total mercy of a woman who would use and abuse him as she saw fit.

But that wasn’t what he was.

Was it?

He scanned the pages again, ignoring the sex scenes. He focused in on the descriptions of the men, their personalities and dialogue building the mental picture for him.

I’m not like these men, scraping and whimpering for attention, desperate for a woman’s touch.

I like being in charge. I built my business from scratch, I dictate my own terms of employment, and I’ve walked away from deals that didn’t work for me.

I can have any woman I want.

I’m an Alpha male.

Are you now?
his inner voice barked.
Then why do you love reading about letting go, letting someone else have the reins? Taking total control away from you? About handing yourself over to a woman and letting her do what she wishes with you?

He answered himself, closing the book with a snap.

Because there’s a void in my perfect Alpha male life.

I need to make my life complete, and this is it.

But I’m not sure.

And there’s only one way to find out.

Alex shifted, aroused by simply skimming the familiar chapters. It never failed to turn him on, making him want to find out his true nature even more.

None of that. You’ve got work to do.

He looked at the clock. Well past midnight, and he had another thousand lines of code to work on before going to sleep.

Putting the book to the side, he cracked his knuckles and pulled up the proper screen.

All work and no play—

The company’s office was set in downtown Toronto, taking up a whole floor in a very expensive building full of people who never would have guessed the listing of “HP” on the directory stood for Hooded Pleasures. Security at the front desk had strict instructions that any visitors had to be approved before going up to the offices, the same as many other businesses.

Kate tapped the ID card clipped to her belt and nodded to the guard as she walked by, heading for the elevators. She’d worn a simple T-shirt and jeans for this meeting, her leather jacket enough to keep the cool autumn weather at bay.

The middle-aged man didn’t say anything, but he glanced down at a clipboard on the desk before returning her greeting.

Guess I’m not on the banned list. Yet.

It was a short ride up to the fifth floor, the doors sliding open to admit her to what at first looked like a generic office space awaiting new residents.

There was no neon logo flashing the company name, no business cards on display, nothing to signal what HP was all about.

Which was exactly the way Wendy and Evan had designed it.

Kate turned to her left and headed down to the lone desk, smiling as she spotted Candy, the receptionist.

Behind the smooth smile, Candy was a black belt martial artist who drew a paycheck not only to watch the switchboard but also to keep the peace both inside and outside the offices. She helped keep the façade up and would expertly dispatch any curious wanderers with a smile and a gentle push back toward the elevator.

“Wendy is waiting for you.” The redhead nodded toward the door on her left. “Third door down the hall.” She resumed her reading of the latest issue of
Mercs for Hire
.

Kate walked through and heard the door lock behind her as she headed down the hall.

The majority of the rooms were for meetings with clients and prospective clients. At times, Hooded Pleasures ran training seminars offered free of charge for those Dommes wanting to take their skills to the next level.

It went without saying that all were soundproofed.

The third unmarked door led into a boardroom, the rosewood circular table stretching almost the length of the room. The plush leather chairs circled it like guards protecting the queen who sat at the opposite end.

Wendy McMaster stood up with a smile. “Kate.”

She wore her usual power suit—black and tailored to her body perfectly. Given Wendy was a plus-sized lady, it was a wonderful fit and flattering. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she looked every inch the professional.

Her gentle smile belied a spine of steel, a plus in any business.

She took Kate’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Come on, sit down. I’ve already ordered coffee.”

Kate sat down beside her, sliding into the leather with an audible sigh. “I love these chairs.”

“Aren’t they the best?” Wendy ran her hand over the polished wood. “I schedule more meetings than I should in here just to enjoy myself.”

The door opened to admit a young man, no more than twenty, wearing only a black leather collar and black silk boxers. He held a tray in one hand and kept his gaze on the floor.

“Peter. Come in.” Wendy waved him onward. “Milk and sugar for both of us, correct?” She looked at Kate for confirmation.

Kate nodded.

Peter moved to the far end of the table and busied himself with making two cups, handling the delicate china with care. The silver set was polished to a bright shine that kept catching Kate’s attention along with the well-tanned man working with it.

“We have a new client.” Wendy slid the folder over to her. “A newcomer to the scene. I’d like you to take him in hand, so to speak.”

She opened the folder and looked at the photograph clipped to the front page.

Early thirties, dark short hair, a devilish smile.

Cute guy.

Kate forced her mind back into professional mode and looked over the pertinent details on the questionnaire.

Freelance programmer, specializing in online games. Came from money but worked hard to build his reputation and now in demand for his skills by a handful of major game manufacturers.

Interesting.

Kate hid her smile as Peter advanced on Wendy, holding the cup in both hands. He knelt down on one knee and offered it to her, eyes down.

“Thank you.” Wendy took the cup.

He returned to the far end of the table to retrieve Kate’s coffee and came back to assume the same position in front of her.

She watched him carefully, noting the way his hands began to tremble the longer she waited.

Kate looked at Wendy, waiting for her permission to take the coffee.

It was her scene, not Kate’s.

Wendy smiled and nodded.

“Thank you.” Kate took the china cup from the waiting man.

Peter let out a ragged sigh and returned to Wendy’s side. He knelt on the floor at her feet, eyes down.

She reached down and tugged at the metal ring at the front of the leather collar. “Well done. Now go, dump the coffee and clean the coffee set with the toothbrush I placed by the silver cleaner. I want to be able to see my reflection when you finish.”

Peter got to his feet. He bowed politely at Kate before retrieving the tray and leaving the room.

Wendy looked after the young man with a wistful sigh. “I’d keep him here and let us both have some fun with him, but I don’t like discussing clients in front of other clients.”

“I didn’t know you had some in-house,” Kate said.

“I usually don’t. But Peter is a friend of a friend, and I said I’d bring him in for a little training. He’s a fast learner—only a few disciplinary incidents, and I’m not sure if he didn’t misbehave on purpose to see what we’d do to him.” She smiled. “Love the young ones. So much easier to train. Anyway, back to our new client.” She reached over and tapped the file. “Alex Hanson. Read the books, watched the movies, and now wants to know what it feels like.” She paused. “Another curious one.”

“Another poser.” Kate frowned. “I’m tired of them. Suddenly it’s become chic to get into this, and it’s not—” She paused at Wendy’s upraised palm.

“You, me and everyone else in the lifestyle, trust me. I’ve bounced more than a few applications when we check into their references and it looks and smells odd. I don’t need any journalists exposing our clients to public scrutiny, and Evan doesn’t need to bail me out of jail after I slug a few of them for writing crap about us.” She tapped the file. “He’s passed through the preliminary checks. No news connections, nothing setting off alarms.”

Kate couldn’t help scowling. “Doesn’t mean he’s serious.”

“We were all new once, Kate.” Wendy ran her hand along the leather armrest. “We all started from the same place without anything more than a desire, a bit of research and a whole lot of curiosity.”

“True,” Kate conceded. “I’m just apprehensive about newcomers, I guess.”

“Tell me about it. Right now it takes six weeks to get through our system and be accepted. There was a time when it was only four.” Wendy took another sip of coffee before continuing. “You’re a ‘light’ Domme, if I recall your preferences correctly. No shibari, no branding and so forth. Correct?”

Kate felt her cheeks burn.

Wendy shook her head. “I’m not judging you, believe me. Nothing wrong with what you do or what you like. It’s actually a fine fit for us to have a Domme who can play with the new kids without scaring them. I consider it a plus, not a minus.” She gestured at the file. “Especially when someone wants to see if it’s right for him. He doesn’t need a hard hand, not at least to begin with.”

Kate studied the photograph.

Definitely cute.

Kate looked up to see Wendy watching her.

She pushed the file away. “Why me?” Kate asked. “I’ve got a full schedule as it is. It’s not fair to my other—”

“Fair to Dan?”

That stopped her cold. Kate licked her lips, unsure of how to proceed.

“No, he didn’t complain. He wouldn’t. But Tracy picked up on your tone when she called you. You sounded wrong, out of sorts.” She frowned. “Are you burning out?”

Kate shrugged.

Wendy waited. She took another sip of coffee, her long slender fingers caressing the fine china.

Kate sighed. She knew better than to try to lie to Wendy. In this business, maybe more than any other, honesty was vital.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She drank some coffee to delay more of an answer. “I zoned out for a minute or two while working with Dan. He never caught on, thank goodness.”

For a second, she flashed back to her good Catholic schoolgirl days and babbling her sins to Father Murphy.

Except she wasn’t going to get out of this one by murmuring a few Hail Marys.

“Let me guess. Carl?” Wendy sat back in the chair. “Am I right?”

Kate felt her chest tighten.

“You know it wasn’t your fault.”

She couldn’t breathe.

Wendy pointed at Kate’s coffee cup. “Drink something before you faint. I’m not going to have Peter come in here to drag you out by the elevators for the paramedics.” She huffed. “Not going to have them poking around my offices, thank you very much.”

Kate picked up the delicate china.

“I know the power of memories.” Wendy lowered her voice. “They can fuck you up something awful.”

Kate choked on the coffee. She’d only heard a handful of swear words from Wendy in their time together.

“When I offered you this job a year ago, it came with the promise you would be able to do what you like, what you love without any emotional attachments. That’s what you wanted, what you needed back then.” She reached out and squeezed Kate’s hand. “You’re a good Domme. An excellent one. And a good woman. You deserve happiness. Don’t let this one stumble define you.” She scowled. “The fault lies in Carl and the decision he made.”

Kate nodded. She didn’t know what to say, what argument to make to counter Wendy’s faith in her.

If she was a good Domme, she wouldn’t have failed Carl.