Strictly Business: Hooded Pleasures, Book 1

by Sheryl Nantus

  Two minutes.

  Five minutes.

  Seven minutes.

  He approached the desk. “Excuse me.”

  The receptionist stared at him.

  Alex showed her his watch. “My appointment is for two o’clock sharp. It’s now five of two.”

  She didn’t flinch from his annoyed glare.

  “I don’t think you understand. My time is valuable, and I can’t waste it hanging around waiting for someone to get back from their lunch break,” Alex continued. “If there’s some sort of problem—”

  The door to his left opened. A woman came out and smiled at him.

  “Alex? I’m Wendy.”

  He instinctively smiled back, relaxing slightly.

  She stepped back and gestured him in. “Third door on the left please.” She glanced over at the receptionist as Alex moved past her. “Thanks, Candy.”

  Alex walked into the hall, feeling like an insect wandering into the spider’s web. The walls were painted a neutral cream, unmarked doors lining the way.

  He counted off the doors and opened the third one, not looking to see if Wendy was behind him.

  The boardroom reminded him of his first and only meeting with the Alexander brothers. They’d wanted a freelance programmer for their new Brawltown expansion and asked for an appraisal. He’d delivered a fine presentation about what they needed and what he could supply at his usual rates.

  Then they revealed they weren’t willing to pay what Alex wanted, but the experience of working on a popular game would give him great exposure. After all, they were a young company and they couldn’t afford his fees. Maybe if he dropped it by half—

  Alex had appraised the boardroom table and furniture at over five thousand dollars, easy.

  He’d walked out.

  This set put that one to shame.

  The slick leather chairs were soft and supple to the touch, easy to sink into. He wished he had one of these at home for those all-night sessions crouched over the keyboard. He sat down and rubbed his palm over the armrest.

  Wendy stood in the doorway. “Someone will be with you in a minute. Thank you.”

  Alex watched her leave, the door sliding shut with an almost silent click.

  Really? I have to wait again?

  He took a deep breath to calm his jangled nerves. There was nothing worse than dealing with inefficient personnel.

  Maybe he could file a complaint with management for wasting his time.

  Alex smiled, imagining how Hooded Pleasures would deal with bad employees. A little bondage, a little spanking. Maybe some of them did it on purpose, wanting to be caught and punished.

  He frowned.

  Not Candy.

  She was most definitely not a submissive from the way she’d glared at him. If anything, she’d be in one of those action films, packing that huge pistol from the cover of the magazine.

  Just what you wanted in a receptionist.

  The analysis calmed him down, reminded him why he was here.

  Okay.

  Now what?

  He looked around the room. No wide-screen, no phones, no filing cabinets. Nothing but a jug of water at the far end of the table and empty glasses.

  At least they were crystal. Good ones, from the look of them.

  Alex drummed his fingers on the desk.

  He glanced at his watch. The email had made it very clear tardiness would not be tolerated.

  On his part.

  Obviously this type of time mismanagement was common for Hooded Pleasures.

  It was now two-twenty.

  Two more minutes and then—

  Any thoughts of leaving vanished as the door opened.

  He got to his feet automatically.

  A woman walked in, carrying a file folder. She smiled at Alex and put it on the table at the far end before leaving.

  The door shut behind her.

  Alex sat down again, scowling.

  If this is some sort of scam—

  Before he could finish the thought, the door flew open and another woman entered.

  He got to his feet a fraction slower than before, taken off guard by the abrupt entrance.

  The brunette strolled toward him. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that curled over one shoulder. Her white blouse was crisp and pressed, as was her short black skirt.

  The long black leather boots made him catch his breath. He’d always been a leg man, but this—

  Her blue eyes locked with his. “Alex Hanson?”

  “Yes.” He smiled and extended his hand. “You must be Kate.”

  Her handshake was firm, her long, slender fingers lingering a second too long against the inside of his wrist.

  “Please sit.” She gestured at his chair.

  Alex sat.

  Kate did not. She strolled to the far end of the table and poured two glasses of water.

  He was mesmerized, watching the swish of her hips. All the questions he’d pondered asking slipped out of his mind as he imagined her in leather and lace, the archetypical Domme from his dreams.

  He shifted in his chair, his cock straining against his briefs already.

  This is going to be one hell of an interview.

  She turned back and smiled at him. “Before we get started, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Get a better picture of who you are. If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course,” Alex replied. “What do you want to know?”

  She picked up the folder and opened it, reading as she walked around the table. “You program computer games for a living and make good money doing it. You’ve worked on some of the most popular games out there. GoldHunter Online, for one.”

  There was a flicker of something in her tone, something like—envy? Curiosity? Familiarity?

  It came to him in a flash.

  She’s a fellow gamer.

  He nodded, unsure if the fact reassured him or increased his anxiety. “I work independently for a number of companies. Freelance.”

  “Interesting.” She let the single word hang in the air between them.

  Alex licked his lips, wondering if he’d come across her in any of his online personas.

  And if she’d been half as beautiful kicking butt and taking names.

  She walked behind him, moving out of sight.

  “Let me be blunt, Alex. You can have any woman you want.” The words slapped him in the back of the head. “Right now, geeks are hot. You could go to any convention, announce your job and have your pick of women willing to go to bed with you, no questions asked. So why are you calling Hooded Pleasures?” She stayed invisible. “Why do you think you’re a submissive man, one who would like me to dominate you?”

  The heated whisper on the back of his neck almost had him rising out of the chair to turn and face her.

  But he didn’t.

  Let her ask her questions. I can deal with it.

  Until it’s my turn.

  “Okay. Good question. I could. And I have. But after a while, it’s just sex, it’s just getting off, and I can do that with my hand and a bottle of lotion. I want more.”

  Kate stepped into sight on his right side. She gripped his chin and tilted his head up to face her. “And what would that be?” She locked eyes with him. “Tell me.”

  Alex blinked, his heart surging into overdrive.

  “If you can’t say it—” She released him and began to turn away.

  Don’t go. God, don’t leave me.

  “I want to be dominated.” He spoke without censoring his thoughts, not wanting her to move an inch more. “I want a woman to make me her slave. I want to make her happy by letting her do whatever she wants to me, because that’ll make me happy. I want to worship her body and give myself totally to her to do with as she wishes, becau
se that would give me pleasure, almost more than getting off. I want to show her I’m strong enough to be hers and endure whatever she does to me, because I love her.”

  He panted, out of breath and out of words, waiting to see her reaction to his confession.

  She didn’t react. She didn’t flinch or screw her face up in the disapproving stare he’d imagined any woman would make when confronted with his deepest desires.

  Kate smiled.

  She sat next to him and leaned in, the sudden intimacy startling him.

  “Tell me, where did you learn about this from? Where did you get this idea of being a sub?” Kate whispered.

  Alex felt a nervous itch run across his shoulders.

  “It started back when I was in high school.” He squirmed in the expensive leather chair, unable to stay still. It was like being in a confessional. “My buddies, they had some magazines. We passed them back and forth, our own lending library.” He couldn’t help smiling at the memory. “A whole lot of girls tied up and so forth. Some spanking, a little rope play, but nothing too hardcore.” Alex laughed. “At our age, we weren’t too sure what was going on, but the magazines had hot girls, and that was enough.”

  “And you liked it?” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious.

  “Not all of it,” he admitted. “I liked the naked women, but I wanted to be the one who was spanked. Restrained. Tied up.” The confession lightened the weight on his chest even as he felt his cheeks begin to burn.

  “I see.” She gestured him on. “And after you left school?”

  “I went to college, got laid the mandatory number of times I was supposed to.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Started my own business and, yes, met women just the way you described. Took them home, had my way with them and made sure to make them breakfast in the morning before calling a cab.” He couldn’t help the note of pride in his voice. “Never left one of them wanting.”

  Kate gave a slow nod.

  Time for the other stuff.

  “Found a few kinky women in my wanderings, but it was one-sided. Pretty mild stuff.” He shrugged. “Fuzzy handcuffs and maybe a blindfold, tie them to the bedposts. That sort of stuff. I did what they wanted, but it wasn’t working for me.”

  Suddenly, the expensive leather chair was uncomfortable to sit in.

  “I still got turned on, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to be the one in the cuffs, the one tied to the bed. I tried to explain it to one or two of them, but they wanted to be spanked and not return the favor. The one who did thought I was a pervert and left at three in the morning after finishing off the last of my expensive whiskey. Didn’t even leave a note.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  Alex shifted again in his chair.

  “After that, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I threw myself into my work. I went on blind dates and picked up women at bars and screwed whoever said yes. I didn’t ask for what I wanted, because I knew I wasn’t going to get it.” The words felt harsh rolling off his tongue. “I fucked and got fucked, played by the rules and still wasn’t happy.” He pulled in the strength to say it. “I even applied to a club. A BDSM club here in town. Passed all the security checks, but I don’t have the guts to go. Sort of like going to a fitness club—you get the membership, but you don’t want anyone to see how out of shape you are, so you don’t go.”

  Her silence unnerved him.

  He couldn’t stop talking. It was like a cork had been pulled out of a keg of wine, the contents spilling out without any chance of keeping control.

  Alex pushed his chair back and stood. “I can’t go there, not yet. Not until I know this is what I really want. I don’t want to watch, I don’t want to be one of those guys who talk the talk but don’t want to walk the walk. I don’t want to be thrown out because I’m a poser, a voyeur when that’s not what I am. Not the real me.”

  He walked to the other end of the table. He picked up one of the water glasses and drained it. The cool liquid helped him focus again on where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.

  “I understand.”

  The soft words assuaged his soul, stopped the bleeding in his mind.

  He looked back.

  She eyed him for a second before switching her gaze to the still-full second glass.

  Alex picked it up and went to her, leaving his drink behind. He placed it on the varnished tabletop in front of her with a nod.

  Kate took a sip and let out a sigh before grinning. “Thank you. There’s nothing like ice-cold spring water.” She pointed at his vacated chair.

  Alex sat back down, pleased to see her smile.

  “We get a lot of newcomers like you. Going to a club is a big step, and your nervousness is very common. Aside from porn magazines, where else have you done your research?”

  “Books.” He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t fathom being able to. It was like being lassoed by Wonder Woman. “I bought some books.”

  The disapproval in her eyes almost broke him.

  “What books?” She motioned him on. “Titles. Authors.”

  He started listing them, one at a time—counting them off on his fingers to avoid her gaze. Popular fiction titles, bestsellers he’d ordered through the online bookstores because no matter how hot they were, no matter how many book clubs bragged about them, he couldn’t find the nerve to buy them in person. Then the nonfiction titles, the hard facts displacing the myths, the reality pushing the fantasies aside.

  After he finished, he dared to glance up, meet her eyes.

  The approval in her eyes soothed his soul, calmed his nerves.

  “You understand that fiction is fiction and fact is fact. Correct?” The gentle interrogation had a snap of concern.

  “Yes.”

  “We can’t promise you the same experience. I can’t promise you the same thrill as those men experienced in those books. What you’ll receive is totally yours, your own experience like no one else’s.”

  The unspoken words hung in the air between them.

  This is what I can give you.

  If you’ll let me.

  If you’re worthy of me.

  “I know.” Alex drew a deep breath to steady himself. “Please understand, I’m not searching for a cheap thrill or a fast way to get my rocks off. I’m interested in the real thing and want to know what I need to do to get there.”

  Kate moved behind him, out of sight. “Put your hands on the table, palms down.”

  He did so in silence, his pulse pounding in his ears.

  Let me make you happy.

  Let me serve you.

  Chapter Three

  Kate studied the back of his head, the slender hairs creeping down his neck.

  She reached out and brushed her fingertips along the soft skin.

  He didn’t flinch from the unexpected touch. He didn’t twist around to see her, didn’t pull away.

  Alex sighed.

  The sound caressed her ears, called to her.

  He needed someone to serve, someone to make him complete.

  Let’s give him a taste of what you can give him.

  What he wants and needs.

  What he’s willing to give you.

  A delicious anticipation started in her belly, sending goose bumps over her skin. “Stand up.”

  Alex paused only a second before pushing the chair back and getting to his feet. He let his breath out slowly, a trace of a whimper escaping his lips.

  “What’s your safe-word?” she asked, still behind him.

  Kate knew what it was. He’d chosen it, written it on his application. The word or words that would stop her in her tracks no matter what she was doing or what he was feeling.

  But Alex had to know he held the power. The final say on it all.

  “Kill switch,” he whispered as if saying a prayer.
>
  “Good. Now strip down.”

  Alex immediately shrugged off his suit jacket and let it drop on the chair behind him. The white visitor’s pass waggled back and forth.

  He yanked his white dress shirt off, fumbling with the first few buttons before pulling it over his head and dropping it on the chair. The jeans were next, pulled down to rest around his ankles and trapped by his sneakers.

  The briefs stayed, a noticeable bulge catching her attention.

  He liked this.

  He liked this.

  Kate smiled as she studied him. He was definitely no doughboy.

  She walked around the chair and into his line of sight. She pointed at his underwear and crooked a finger.

  Off.

  Without hesitating, he slid them down to rest atop his jeans in a jumbled heap. His hands went behind his head without being asked.

  He waited, his gaze on the tabletop.

  She dragged her eyes over him, starting at those delicious deep blue eyes and heading south. Kate crossed her arms and hummed as she continued her inspection.

  He trembled, the muscles in his arms twitching uncontrollably.

  You’re feeling awkward.

  You’re out of your comfort zone. You’re used to calling the shots, having people jump to obey your every wish.

  But you’re here now and ready to submit.

  To me.

  To do this for me.

  On command.

  She couldn’t help smiling.

  Good.

  He must be insane. Crazy, one-brick-short-of-a-wall nuts, batshit off his rocker.

  Whatever you called it, he’d done as she asked, as she’d commanded, and was now standing in someone’s boardroom with his clothing around his feet. If he didn’t know where he was, he’d have sworn he was about to be pranked by some reality show.

  All those books he read, all the fiction and nonfiction written by those who lived the lifestyle, hadn’t prepared him for this.

  To be called out on his first real contact with a Domme, called to put his money where his mouth was.

  But the embarrassment of standing there naked as the day he was born was quickly overridden by a need, a desire to do as she asked.

  To be hers.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kate walk slowly around the table, still holding his file.