Strictly Business: Hooded Pleasures, Book 1 (6 page)

And give Alex what he wanted. What he needed.

What she needed.

She washed out the mug and headed for the front desk.

Candy smiled as Kate handed her the folder. “A good one?”

“Definitely.” Kate tried not to sound too pleased with herself. “Handsome too.”

Candy opened the folder and looked at the color photo clipped to the top. “Aww, such a sweetie. Just makes me want to pinch those cheeks.” She gave her a wink. “All of them.”

Kate smiled. “Please pass it back to Tracy for her appointment book. Usual rules, usual sessions. Nothing special about this one. Sundays work well for me if she can slot him in.”

Candy eyed her for a second. “You taking this one?”

“That’s what Wendy wants.” Suddenly Kate felt self-conscious. “Have you heard anything different?”

“Nope. I heard you gave up Dan, so there’s a space in your schedule. You needed a change anyway, right?”

Kate gave a halfhearted shrug. “Wendy thinks it’s a good idea. I like the young ones anyway. Fun breaking them in.”

She mentally flashed back to the naked Alex standing there, shivering as she strolled around him.

This one is going to be interesting.

Chapter Four

The next few days passed in a blur as Alex fumbled through coding assignments, his attention elsewhere. One or two of his online friends noticed his distracted state, but he shrugged them off with vague excuses, claiming he was working on other games and the multitasking made it hard for him to concentrate.

Hard
being the operative word.

He’d sat there for ten minutes in the boardroom after Kate’s departure, trying to get control over himself.

It’d taken another five for him to straighten his shirt and not look like a drunken bum staggering home after a night out.

Candy had smiled and informed him that there was a taxi waiting for him downstairs to take him wherever he liked. The smirk on her face told him he wasn’t the first to stumble out of an interview at HP, hard and aching for release.

He’d made it all the way home without touching himself, intently concentrating on the cabbie babbling about the local sports teams.

Unlocking his front door was followed by a mad dash to the guest bathroom on the bottom floor.

He wouldn’t have made it upstairs.

As it was, he almost came as he yanked his jeans down again, cursing as he pulled at his underwear to free himself.

One, two strokes with his hand, and he’d emptied himself into the toilet, propping himself up with his left hand flush against the wall to keep from falling. He shuddered again from the memory of her inspecting him, studying him from top to bottom.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

What the hell are you getting yourself into?

Alex grinned at the reflection, a sudden euphoria racing through his veins.

Exactly what I want.

The phone call came a few hours later with a polite female voice asking when the best time to schedule would be. She made the appointment with as much emotion as if Alex were going to the doctor, her cheerful tone reminding him again to leave some extra time before and after the appointment.

The following Sunday afternoon at 2:00 p.m.

It wasn’t until Saturday night that he wondered what he was going to wear for their first time together.

If anything.

What
did
someone wear for their first BDSM session?

The books were no help, either the fiction or nonfiction. The majority of them were set in a club with leather thongs and naked oiled bodies; the few that dealt with a home environment were couples expanding their horizons, so to speak, and lingerie mixed with leather in a comfortable setting.

He had no idea what he was getting—hopefully something between the two.

All he got out of his reading research was even more excited, his arousal tempting him to take things in hand. Literally.

He’d lain awake more than a few nights, his fingers itching to slide down his torso and stroke himself, the image of Kate fresh in his mind.

It’d taken a concentrated effort, but Alex denied himself the simple pleasure. It wasn’t that he worried about performance issues, if he couldn’t or wouldn’t get hard when she visited—that was a given. Even thinking about her had his cock twitching for attention.

But he had control.

And he would wait. The real thing wasn’t going to compare with the written word, and he wasn’t going to spoil himself with imaginary scenarios when the legit event was so close to happening.

He did pick up a spare toothbrush to stash in the bathroom, just in case.

A few hours before the appointment, Alex surveyed his wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear.

Suit? Shorts? Socks?

He settled on a simple dress shirt and jeans.

Minus the shoes and socks.

He didn’t want to spend time pulling at anything that wasn’t important.

Alex sat in his living room with the television set on and stared at the clock, willing the hour hand to move faster.

1:30 p.m.

1:31 p.m.

1:32 p.m.

1:53 p.m.

“Oh frak.” Kate thumped the car’s dashboard. “You have got to be kidding me.”

The traffic jam enveloped her in a steel cocoon, giving her no way out. The radio babbled something about an overturned tractor-trailer, and the nearest exit was at least three miles away.

This was not how she expected to be spending her Sunday afternoon.

She extracted her cell phone and typed in Alex’s number.

“Hello?”

“Alex. It’s Kate.” She flipped the bird at a motorcyclist who whizzed by her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I’m caught in a traffic jam. I might be a bit late.”

“It’s all over the news. A big one. No injuries, but they’re having trouble getting the trailer upright and off the road. Not to mention the spilled syrup,” he said. “You could be there for hours.”

“Syrup?”

“Yeah.” She imagined him smiling as he spoke. “All we need now is a truck filled with pancakes or waffles to tip over nearby, and we’ll be all set.”

“Don’t curse me.” She paused. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t start on time.”

He chuckled. “Do you have an ejector seat in your car? Otherwise—”

“Alex.” Kate lowered her voice to a heated whisper. “Are you listening to me?”

He swallowed loudly. “Yes, Mistress.”

He’s a quick one.

Good to know.

“Where are you?”

“In my living room.”

“Good. I assume you have a couch, a coffee table in your living room.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The confusion in his voice warmed her heart.

Don’t guess at what I’m going to ask you to do, Alex.

Just do it.

“What are you wearing?”

“Jeans. Shirt. Briefs.”

“Well, that won’t do. Strip down. Everything off.”

The sudden intake of breath had her grinning, despite her traffic situation.

This was going to be fun.

“Alex?”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Do you have a speakerphone function? Turn it on if you do.” She sent a brief text to HP detailing her problem and informing them she’d be late sending the safety code signifying her arrival on site.

After it cleared, she turned her own speakerphone on and placed it on the dashboard in front of her, making sure all the windows were up.

The car ahead of her moved a fraction of an inch.

The one beside her moved a foot.

She listened to the rustle of clothing, the grunts signaling his efforts.

“I’m done, Mistress.”

“Good. Is your clothing neatly folded and placed on the couch? I don’t like a messy room.”

“Ah—”

“Do it right now. I’ll wait.”

She imagined him standing in a generic living room, stark naked and feeling somewhat foolish with a pile of clothing sitting on the couch.

“My clothing’s folded, Mistress. Just as you ordered.”

“Good,” she purred. “You told me you’d gotten yourself some toys when we last met. Tell me what they are.”

Alex cleared his throat. “A butt plug, a cock harness, a—”

“Aren’t we presumptuous about what you think I need?” She cut him off. “Unless you like playing alone. In which case—”

“No, Mistress,” his breathless reply rang out. “I just wanted to, ah…”

She could hear the imaginary wheels in his mind spinning, trying to find the right answer.

“Alex.” Kate put as much disapproval in her voice as she dared, not being able to see his face.

“I bought them when I first applied to Hooded Pleasures. I wanted to make sure you weren’t lacking for anything.” He spoke rapidly, tripping over his own words. “I didn’t realize you would be prepared. In retrospect, I should have asked you first.” He paused. “Mistress.”

“Good answer.” She couldn’t help grinning at the concern in his voice. “Now kneel in front of the table.” Her inner eye pictured the living room and the naked man now on his knees. “Do you use your left hand or right hand when you jerk off?”

She relished the sudden intake of breath as the harsh language bit at his senses.

“Right hand.”

“Start stroking yourself. Use your left hand.”

“What?”

The disbelief in his voice made her smile.

This was going to be good.

“Are you questioning me? That’ll earn you another five strokes with the paddle, Alex,” she whispered. “Now get to business. I want to hear every moan, every sigh until you’re ready to come. Then…” She drew out the word as long as she could, visualizing his discomfort. “Then stop.”

“But—”

“Again with the questions? You’re up to ten strokes. Want to go for more?”

“No, Mistress. I’m starting now.”

Kate knew that he’d be off-kilter not being allowed to use his dominant hand; the unfamiliar routine slowing his arousal despite his best efforts. It’d keep his mind and body busy until she arrived.

The car ahead of her began to move slowly, a snail’s pace. If she could get to the next exit, she could speed along Lakeshore and make it to Alex’s house within ten minutes.

“Ah.” The pained grunt caught her attention. “Ah,” he repeated, and she heard the tension in his voice.

“Don’t come,” she warned him. “I will be
very
disappointed if I get there and the show’s all over.” She clicked her tongue. “We might have to reschedule the appointment.”

“No. I can do this.” He ground out the words around clenched teeth.

“I’m sure you can. After all, you don’t want to disappoint me. Not on our first time together.”

A whimper came through the tiny speaker.

“Stop.” She jerked the wheel to one side and skimmed the shoulder for a few feet, enough to make it onto the exit ramp. “Go get your cock harness and put it on.”

“Now?”

Kate held back a giggle, hearing the disbelief in his voice. At this point, it’d be painful, if not impossible, to get the leather and metal harness on. “Yes. Now. Go to the front door and unlock it so I can get in. Kneel down in the hallway and put your hands behind your head as you wait for me to arrive.” She tapped the gas pedal and swerved around a slow-moving car in the fast lane. “I’ll be there soon enough. And I’ll know if you came without permission.” She paused. “You can’t hide it from me.”

She cut off the connection before he could answer, and focused on threading a path through the light traffic.

Always leave them wanting.

He was going to die from blue-ball syndrome. The first man to die due to not being able to come. They’d find him dead in the living room, a cock harness hanging from his balls.

He didn’t even want to begin to imagine the obituary.

The leather harness cut into his skin as he wrestled it over his balls, cursing and swearing as he pushed the metal ring over his cock. It was hard, painful and horribly, horribly arousing.

He stopped twice, way too close to coming to continue. Thoughts of cold showers and icy rocks, and he managed to get it half on, the leather and metal biting into his sensitive skin.

Son of a—

This wasn’t going to work.

Alex gritted his teeth and fumbled with the strap, trying to push it through the buckle to hold it in place.

Not a fucking chance.

My Domme’s first visit, and I’m screwing this up.

The thought tore at his soul, and he grabbed at the ring again.

Someone twisted the doorknob, jiggling the brass handle.

It didn’t open.

Shit.

Alex dashed for the hall and skidded along the polished hardwood floor, his bare feet having trouble negotiating the turn.

The doorknob turned again and stopped, restricted by the dead bolt.

“Coming,” he yelled, not caring about the double entendre.

He bounced off the hat rack and grabbed it before it hit the floor.

There was no sound outside the door.

If she’s left—

He twisted the dead bolt and fell to his knees, panting. A last horrible thought raced through his mind as he heard the doorknob turn again.

I hope it’s not some kid selling cookies.

The door swung open as he gritted his teeth, the cool summer breeze blowing across his bare skin.

She’d heard the frantic pounding, the running and cursing as she waited at the front door.

It was hard not to laugh.

She congratulated herself on thinking of the self-torture she’d come up with for Alex. It was a lovely distraction, keeping his mind off of watching the clock until she arrived.

The dead bolt opened with a low metallic scream.

Kate waited a few seconds, then turned the doorknob for a third time and opened the door.

Alex knelt in front of her on the narrow rug, gasping for air.

She stepped in just enough to clear the door and close it behind her. A flick of the dead bolt relocked the door.

No interruptions.

Kate turned back to study her newest acquisition.

Alex was a mess. Sweat beaded on his forehead, sneaking back into the crow’s nest of black hair. From his expression, he was right between pleasure and pain.

Excellent.

His gaze ran over the long raincoat she wore, ending at the black pumps on her feet. Alex stared at them for a minute, mesmerized by the black leather. He made a small sound, and she knew she’d chosen her attire wisely.

He’s a foot-and-leg man.

Kate filed the information away.

She cleared her throat.

He smiled and sighed, locking eyes with her.

A tilt of her head and a frown was all the warning she was going to give. It might be his first time, but he should know better than to stare at her openly.

Alex lowered his eyes and flung his hands up behind his head, a wheezed pant accompanying the effort.

“Mistress.” He stared at the floor, his chest heaving.

Kate eyed the half-done cock harness. The leather strap swayed back and forth, the bondage unfinished.

She knelt in front of the flushed man. “You made me wait. I had to try two times to get in here. After driving like a madwoman to make our appointment. I risked getting a ticket at least three times to get to you.”

He nodded, studying the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry, Mistress. I—”