“Look, I don’t care what you think your players are going to do. I’m telling you the experienced players are going to figure out how to exploit that bug and keep pillaging that chest for the extra weapons and gold. It’ll unbalance the economy and screw up the game. Let me patch it up, and you’ll be fine. A few hours of coding, and I can—”
Alex paced around his living room as the voice on the other end of his phone babbled on.
He gritted his teeth. “Yes, I realize that it’s your in-house programming staff that created it and they should know what they’re doing. I’m only the expensive freelancer you’re bringing in to complete the new expansion on time. It’s your call. But don’t be surprised when it all comes down on your head. I know what I’m doing, and I know what’s going to happen.”
The phone beeped to signal an incoming call.
His heart raced as he recognized the number.
“I’ve got to go. But the longer you wait for this fix, the more it’s going to cost you. Good-bye.” He tapped the button to transfer away from the business call, not waiting for the response.
He had more important things to deal with.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Hanson?”
“Yes?” He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.
“This is Hooded Pleasures. We’d like you to come to our office for a final interview. When might you be available?” The smooth voice caressed his jangled nerves.
What the hell?
He tamped down the surge of annoyance at yet another barrier being tossed in his way.
“You have to understand that I’m a very busy man. I thought I’d passed all your checks—”
“And we appreciate your patience with the process and apologize for the time it’s taken. You will be interviewing your prospective Domme. We want to make sure you’re compatible in every way before she begins her home visits.”
A flash of heat shot down his spine, pooling in his groin. “Interview? But I thought—”
“We wouldn’t assign just anyone to you, Mr. Hanson.” The soothing voice continued to purr. “I promise you that this is the last step in our process.”
Alex forced himself to calm down, put his temper in check. “I understand.” He’d already gotten the notifications from his computer alerting him to their checks on his financial status, his personal references and his work status. It was hidden under the guise of a security clearance for a possible freelance job, but he knew they were the ones asking for information.
He couldn’t blame them. He might be new to all this, but it didn’t take a genius to see there’d be a lot of people interested in Hooded Pleasures’ clientele for all the wrong reasons.
Same with the clubs.
Boots ’n’ Chains was the closest one to him, and they had the same in-depth security check.
He’d applied and passed their inspection, paid the membership fees, but hadn’t had the nerve to actually go to the club, even on their new members’ night. Every time he thought about it, his stomach twisted into nervous knots at somehow being caught out as a poser, a faker who wasn’t really into the scene.
He couldn’t go.
Not yet.
Not until he was sure this was right for him.
And this was the only way he could find out.
He snapped out of his reverie as the woman kept talking.
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“You work weekends?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “I mean, for interviews?”
The woman laughed. “We adjust our schedules to the needs of our clients, Mr. Hanson. If tomorrow won’t work for you—”
“No, it’s fine. I can fit an appointment in tomorrow afternoon.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was arranging an interview with a Dominatrix.
He must be losing his mind.
“Is two o’clock a good time?”
“I can clear my timetable for that. For this,” Alex replied.
He never scheduled anything for the weekends.
“Tomorrow it is, then. Sunday afternoon at two o’clock. We’ll send you an email confirming the appointment and the address. Please don’t be late. Kate will be looking forward to seeing you. Thank you.” The woman hung up before Alex could respond.
“Kate.” Alex stared at the phone. “Her name is Kate.” He licked his lips as if tasting the letters.
“Kate.”
She’d stopped on the way home for brunch, stuffing herself on eggs and bacon in an attempt to quell her nervousness. When that failed to stop her mind from churning, she went to the Royal Ontario Museum and wandered among the dinosaurs, letting the familiar exhibits soothe her troubled thoughts.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t interviewed prospective clients before. Almost all her customers had been new with only two being “hand-me-downs” from other Dommes who had left or who had requested a transfer for some reason.
But this one coming so soon after her recent issue with Dan—it felt different.
Kate wasn’t sure if she was the one being tested, not this Alex.
Her wanderlust brought her home late in the afternoon. It also brought a handful of new paperback books, a box of freshly baked chocolate cookies from the local bakery and a package of plastic dinosaurs from the museum’s gift shop.
Nervousness tended to cost her a lot.
After making a cup of green tea, she settled on the couch and picked up the nearby sketchpad.
Kate traded it for the television remote a few seconds later.
The sketchbook lay forgotten in her lap as she flipped through the television channels, searching for some reason to avoid thinking too much. She had to get down to doing some drawing but needed to settle her mind before starting.
The image resolved to show a man falling off his bike repeatedly, most likely drunk.
Perfect.
A program showing various dumb criminals caught on surveillance tape, either through security cameras or, better yet, documenting their own crimes with their cell phones.
She couldn’t ask for better blind-mind entertainment.
“Idiots.” She picked up the pencil and began to draw, her attention caught between the two worlds.
The dark strokes formed into a rogue, crouching as she checked a sack for whatever she’d purloined from a nearby merchant. A few lines added long hair draped over one shoulder, the tattered clothing detailing how she’d started off at a much higher social position and slipped down to the point that she was stealing. It was a good first draft, and she knew it was working, the magic meshing to create something she’d be proud to put her name on.
It was a commission from one of her many fans. Since she’d started posting her art in an online art community, she’d not only gotten rave reviews but also requests for personalized pictures.
She didn’t need the money. Between her trust fund and HP, she was quite comfortable.
But she loved creating, and she wasn’t going to give it away for free. So she charged reasonable rates and did what she loved.
Her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up and read the short text message.
Alex Hanson had agreed to an appointment at the office tomorrow.
She tapped her code in to acknowledge she’d received the information and returned to her sketch.
The rogue stared at her, frozen in place.
Kate chewed on the edge of the pencil, unable to beat down the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that this might be the last interview she did.
Burned out? How can I be burned out? I’ve only been doing this for a year. Five clients, hardly a major workload.
If she left HP, her lifestyle would take a knock, but it wouldn’t be much of a setback. Maybe she’d have to order less take-out and actually buy groceries.
I
t wasn’t like she was spending money on a relationship.
A mental image of Carl flashed across her mind’s eye.
Hope she’s taking care of you, you bastard. Not.
Her pencil drew a jagged edge across the rogue’s face, the angry scar so deep, it almost ripped the page.
She threw her sketchpad onto the table and headed for the computer desk.
Wonderful. He’s still fucking with my mind months after the fact.
A year, sweetie, her inner voice snapped. A whole year since you saw him at the club with Lily. The way they were acting told you this wasn’t a new relationship and you’d been blind, totally blind to what had to have been going on under your very nose.
Mortified didn’t begin to cover the embarrassment she’d felt, the feeling everyone was watching her, studying her.
Pitying the Domme who had lost her submissive to another woman.
Kate let her breath out slowly, trying to ignore the growing anxiety attack. The pain in her chest lessened as she forced herself to relax.
Her gaze wandered to the waiting computer.
Maybe a few hours of hacking and slashing would help her calm down.
She grinned and tapped the keyboard to open up the program and connect with the server.
A few minutes later, she settled into the chair, chuckling as she watched a bunch of new players race toward certain doom. They were headed for an area far above their battle capability and definitely outside their expertise. She’d been polite and warned them, but one wizard had scoffed at taking advice from a ten-foot-tall female ogre warrior.
They’d learn soon enough.
She headed for the caves and her usual hunting grounds.
“Damnit.” Alex banged his fingers on the keyboard, deleting lines of code.
The cursor ran along the bottom of the screen, eating up numbers and letters with a zealous appetite, devouring a good hour’s worth of work.
“Crap. Crappity crap crap.”
He looked at the clock. It was 10:14 p.m.
Fourteen hours until his appointment.
His attention wandered off the screen to the stack of books, well-thumbed pages warping the glossy covers. His ebook reader sat there as well with bookmarked pages available at a finger’s touch.
Alex shifted in the chair, trying not to think about what he was about to get into. He’d used up almost all his resolve to pick up the phone and call a few weeks ago, tapping in the number he’d found only through some online sleuthing.
Hooded Pleasures.
Based on the initial conversation, he thought he’d called some secret government agency, the receptionist interrogating him as to where he’d found their number and what he thought they were all about, blah blah blah. And then the follow-up call and the paper forms arriving via courier, swearing him to secrecy and demanding so much information. He thought he might be signing up for a one-way mission to Mars.
It’d been more intrusive than getting a membership to the club, and there had been a moment filling out the forms when he’d hesitated, perched on the edge and about to back away from having someone come to his house.
His inner voice berated him for his lack of nerve, as well as his rather illogical reasoning.
He couldn’t handle going to the club, but he could handle a woman entering his personal space? Coming to where he lived, where he worked?
Coming to dominate him.
He’d caught himself one last time before signing the last page, wondering if the risk was worth it.
And yet—
He glanced sideways at the books.
I want this.
I need this.
I need to know who I am.
Alex shifted again in the chair and wondered if a cold shower might be the answer.
Or more reading. Research.
His right hand moved into his lap, dangerously close to its goal. He scratched the rough fabric and considered taking matters into his own hands.
Or hand, as it were.
It’d calm him down, that much was for certain.
No.
Restraint.
Discipline.
He grunted and put his hand back on the keyboard.
If I’m going to start somewhere, might as well be here and now.
There was enough to do here, a few more hours of coding before he could sleep, eat, shower and prepare for his appointment. No time for indulging himself.
Not when he was going to meet the real deal soon enough.
Kate stopped at a small café for breakfast, mentally preparing for the upcoming meeting.
Alex thought he’d be interviewing her.
It was really the other way around. She would be poking around his psyche, looking for signs that he wasn’t truly a sub, that he was a Dom in disguise. He might not know it himself, but this interview would let them both know where he stood.
Or knelt, if she had her way.
If he wasn’t a true submissive, it wouldn’t be a problem. She’d terminate the interview and Wendy would take over. She’d gently maneuver Alex toward the door with recommendations for a private club and inform him that HP wasn’t going to be able to give him what he wanted. A smart man would figure it out fast enough.
Hooded Pleasures didn’t supply submissives. There was too much of a chance for abuse, too much opportunity for someone to be taken advantage of.
They also supplied male Doms for those women who couldn’t or wouldn’t go to a club, caught in the same issues and problems as the men she dealt with.
Equal strokes for equal folks.
The company’s rules tried to cover all possibilities.
Alex would come in and see if he was truly a sub and if he was ready to take his desires to the next level.
Hopefully with Kate.
She nodded at the waitress as the pastry was placed in front of her, steam still rising from the warm roll.
Kate tore a thick piece off the freshly baked croissant and nibbled on it, savoring the buttery taste.
None of her present clientele had refused her.
Mentally, she brought up the image of Alex Hanson, game programmer and fellow geek.
That puckish smile had her grinning as she sipped her coffee.
He’d take her on. She knew it.
In the end, it did come down to Alex’s decision, his veto if he decided he didn’t like Kate.
That was the way it had to be, really. The power lay with him, and it had to be his choice.
If not, Wendy would give him to another Domme. But Kate knew she wouldn’t have paired Alex with Kate if she didn’t think there would be something clicking between them.
Kate popped the last of the croissant in her mouth and felt the thin layers melt on her tongue.
There was only one way to find out.
She finished her coffee and gestured for the bill.
Alex nodded at the cab driver as he paid the man and got out. “Fine. Just remember I warned you.” He turned the phone off and stuffed it in a pocket of his jacket before looking around.
Downtown was downtown, no matter what city you were in. Plenty of tall office buildings filling the streets with character, the eye-catching architecture calling you in. Some others were lonely obelisks stabbing the sky.
All holding secrets.
Except this one seemed to hold more than the usual.
He walked through the door, noting the keen eye of the security guard on him.
No slouching mall cop here.
He strode up to the desk. “My name is Alex Hanson. I have a special appointment on the fifth floor.” He used the exact words as instructed to do in the email. Alex couldn’t blame them for trying to be subtle about their company and what it offered. He was sure the guard didn’t know what went on at HP or what
the fifth floor contained—and that was just fine with both of them.
“Personal ID please.”
The security guard checked Alex’s driver’s license and scanned his clipboard. He drew a line through Alex’s name before sliding a visitor’s pass across the desktop. “Keep that visible at all times.”
“Thank you.” Alex clipped it to his left lapel.
“Only good for the fifth floor. Please don’t go anywhere else.” The guard jabbed a thumb at the elevators. “Have a nice day.”
The ride was only a few seconds, but it seemed like he was walking into a whole new world, his mind spinning with the reality of what he was about to do.
Alex stepped off the elevator. There was no choice of which direction to go. The lone reception desk at the far end of the hallway was the only thing in sight.
The redhead behind it eyed him as he approached, glancing down every few seconds to the magazine in her hand.
He could have sworn it was titled Mercs for Hire.
She put it down when he got closer and smiled. “Can I help you?”
“I have an appointment.” He tapped his visitor’s badge and straightened his tie, keeping his hands busy. “Two o’clock sharp. I’m a few minutes early. If you can fit me in—”
She cut him off. “Your name is—”
“Alex Hanson.” He glanced around as she murmured into her headset.
Framed photographs of skylines of various cities hung on the walls surrounding the reception desk, canned images he’d seen before. Two doors on each side offered entry to what he assumed was the inner sanctum of Hooded Pleasures.
He swallowed hard. The impulse to bolt was strong, the urge to run for the elevator and forget all this, forget it ever existed, almost overwhelming.
No.
You want this.
You need this.
Stay.
“Wendy will be out momentarily.” The woman smiled.
Alex looked around.
There was no place to sit, no comfortable chair for him to lounge in. Nothing but the bare wall, and he wasn’t going to slump against the wall like some slacker unable to stand on his own two feet for a few minutes.
The redhead returned to her magazine, ignoring Alex.
He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth.
Strictly Business: Hooded Pleasures, Book 1 Page 3