Strictly Yours: Hooded Pleasures, Book 3

by Sheryl Nantus

  She’d never worried about the two colliding, crashing together in an explosion rocking her mind and body.

  Until now.

  Sitting next to Nathan, she picked up the cell phone and studied the message again as he waited for her next move.

  It didn’t make the contents any less terrifying.

  “I—” She paused, momentarily frozen in place.

  “It’s okay.” Nathan put his hand on her knee. “I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.” He looked at the phone. “I guess it has to do with that, right?”

  Jen nodded. “As you’ve probably guessed, we’re not allowed to take calls while we’re working.”

  His reassuring nod kept her talking.

  “I usually check in to see if there’s any texts after we’re finished up. You’ve seen me do it.”

  “I have,” Nathan said quietly.

  She held out the phone and showed him the text.

  “This came in a half hour ago. I just read it now.”

  The caller identification read Colleen.

  The text itself was plan enough.

  Incident at clinic. Drunken fight at bar; both fools came in and decided to continue in lobby. Idiots taken down by guard and police. Wanted to tell you before you saw it on news and freaked out. Not Tanner. NOT Tanner. See you tonight. Love you, Colleen.

  Nathan scanned it.

  “Okay. A situation. But it’s all over. You’ll have to explain why you’re having a bad reaction to all this. Who is this Tanner?”

  “He’s—” She paused. “I’m not sure where to start.”

  He squeezed her knee. “Let’s take it from the top.” He pointed at himself. “I’m Nathan. And you are—”

  She couldn’t hold back a smile. “My real name is Jennifer. I only use Danielle when I’m out as a Domme.”

  “Jennifer. I like it. It suits you.” Nathan’s tone was soft and casual. “Not that there’s anything wrong with Danielle. Where did you get that from?” He opened a fresh drink and offered the full can to her.

  The simple question soothed her. “A romance novel I read back in my teens. One of the first real serious books I signed out from the library.” She took it from him and sipped the cool liquid. “A historical romance, to be exact. One of those where the duke is searching for his perfect mate and finds one in the scullery maid.” She frowned, trying to recall the book. “I think she was his childhood friend who he’d forgotten while off at school. Something like that.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Sounds like a good book. Do you prefer Jen or Jennifer?”

  She frowned. “Jen, please. Jennifer makes me sound old.” She forced herself to laugh. “I don’t think anyone calls me that other than my parents and the government.”

  “For me, it’s the other way around.” He took the drink from her. “No one calls me Nate. It’s always been Nathan. Guess I don’t look like a Nate.” He squinted as he looked at her. “You’re definitely a Jen. Can’t see Jennifer.” A mischievous grin appeared. “And now I’ll never see Danielle.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad.”

  He smiled. “I’m more than happy with Jen. It’s a lovely name.”

  He fell silent, leaving it up to her as to where to take the conversation.

  You opened this door.

  Time to walk on through.

  He’s a cop. He can help.

  All you need to do is ask.

  “This Tanner man. He’s a guy from my past, from years ago. Before all—” Jen waved her hands over her corset and Nathan’s nakedness. “All this.”

  “Okay.” He gave her a comforting smile. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  It was like someone had tossed a bucket of cold water over her, killing off any residual pleasure from the session with Nathan. For his part, he sat still beside her, the dark green blanket on his bare shoulders as she struggled to find the words to explain her past and how it had collided with her present.

  Their present, her inner voice reminded her.

  You opened this Pandora’s Box. There’s no going back now.

  Your relationship with Nathan will never be the same again.

  She felt strangely reassured at the unspoken fact.

  Jen ran her hands over her legs, brushing them over the nylons. “I work at an all-night medical clinic as a receptionist.” She pointed at the phone. “Colleen’s the doctor I work with. There’s another woman, a night nurse. Usually April.”

  Nathan nodded, staying silent.

  “I do the midnight shift. I’ve always been a night owl, so it suited me.” She swept a hand in front of her. “It makes this a bit easier.”

  “I’ve always loved the night shift,” he murmured.

  She felt some of the tension in her shoulders shift at the shared experience.

  “The majority of our business is people looking for medical treatment who don’t want to or can’t go to a doctor’s office. And when the hospital looks too busy or too far away, we’re a good option.” She paused. “We offer referrals to women’s shelters, to rehab, to places for those who need help far beyond what we can offer.”

  Nathan nodded, staying silent.

  She continued, grateful for the chance to explain it out loud.

  To herself. To him.

  “It was a couple of years ago. Three o’clock in the morning. Woman came in with a black eye, broken cheekbone. It wasn’t hard to figure out she’d been abused. She admitted it after a few questions.” She let out her breath slowly. “She’d had enough of her husband hitting her and wanted to leave.” Jen brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her right ear. “Sharon came to us while he was sleeping off a drinking binge after the latest fight. It was her chance to escape. She knew he’d go to the hospital when he woke up and saw she was gone. That’s why she came to the clinic. Buy more time. Colleen wasn’t the doctor on duty back then. It was Gwen, and she convinced the woman to stay with us while we contacted a shelter, and then we’d send her over in a taxi.”

  “Then the asshole woke up,” Nathan said. “Tanner.”

  “Yes. He woke up not long after she left the house, but he started his search at the hospital. By the time he got to the clinic, it was about five o’clock, and we’d packed her off in a cab a good half hour earlier. He saw her car in the parking lot, demanded we bring her out, threatened us if we didn’t hand her over. He didn’t know she was gone from the clinic, and we didn’t tell him.”

  Jen stopped, the memory choking her words.

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Gwen hit the panic button as soon as we figured out who he was.” The question forced her onward. “Bastard brought in a crowbar from his car, waved it around. Demanded we bring her out or tell him where she was. Thank God we didn’t have any other patients at the time.”

  “Did he hurt you?” The words came out from between Nathan’s clenched teeth.

  “No.” She put her hand on the side of her head. “I was fine. He hit Daisy, the nurse though—she needed stitches. Bad concussion.”

  “Was there a night guard?”

  “No. We have one now. He was waving the crowbar and—” She broke off, lost in the memory. “He came over to me after dropping Daisy and pointed it at me, screaming. Then he spun around as the first police car came into the parking lot.” Jen shook her head. “I couldn’t let it go into a hostage situation. I couldn’t.”

  “What did you do?”

  She couldn’t hold back a grin at the memory. “I grabbed his arm, spun him around. Punched him in the face, made him drop the weapon. A good solid hit. Broke his nose.” Jen pulled her fingers into a fist and showed it to him. “Got a clear shot and took it. Then the cops arrived and it was all over except for the hospital and the courts.”

  “That was dangerous,”
he admonished her. “You know that.”

  “So I was told. Repeatedly. But I had the chance, and I took it. You understand.”

  “I do.”

  Jen looked into his eyes and saw he did.

  The revelation soothed the raw wounds reopened so recently.

  “He went to jail.” Nathan nudged. “Right?”

  “He pleaded guilty and got five years. Got out on early parole recently.” She glanced at the phone. “This thing at the clinic. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t anything to do with him, but coming right on the heels of this asshole getting out—”

  “She wanted to tell you before it hit the wires. I get it.”

  Jen nodded. “You do.”

  Nathan stared at Jen. “I understand. Now let me ask. What can I do for you?”

  She paused, feeling the surge of emotions threatening to sweep the last of her reservations away.

  He was her client.

  Not her boyfriend.

  Not her lover.

  Maybe a good friend, but nothing more.

  No matter what her heart was yelling in her ear.

  She might have already gone too far—

  “What can I do?” he repeated, the soft and steady tone soothing her frazzled nerves.

  “This man. The one who attacked us, the one I hit. I want to believe he’s changed but—” Jen shook her head. “I keep looking in the shadows, afraid he’s going to come back for me.”

  “He was angry with you. Upset for interfering with his domestic bliss. For helping his wife leave him.”

  There was no question in Nathan’s words.

  “He was.” Jen flashed back to the trial. “It went to trial because he wanted to plead not guilty. The Crown said it was a slam dunk thanks to Daisy’s injury and the whole thing was caught on our security camera. Sharon, his wife, testified against him as well. But Tanner thought he’d be a tough guy and fought every inch of the way. Got himself a cheap lawyer and tried to say I attacked him when he came in, worried about his dear spouse who had hurt herself in a drunken fog. Then, when he saw that wasn’t working, he got upset and cursed at me, swung his arms around and the bailiffs dragged him out.” She swallowed hard. “Of course they found him guilty. But I hope he’s changed, that he wanted to change once he cleared his head and saw what he’d done. To Daisy, to Sharon.” She looked at Nathan.

  Nathan nodded. “He could change. People do come out of prison rehabilitated, or at least scared straight enough to keep out of trouble. If he’s been going to therapy, there’s a chance he’s repented.” Nathan drew a deep breath. “I can’t tell you if he has or hasn’t. But I can tell you that you can’t spend the rest of your life being afraid of him.” He gestured at the phone. “But if you hear from him, if you see him, you let me know, and I’ll take care of things.” The coldness in his eyes startled her, the simmering rage reminding her, after all was said and done, he was a policeman.

  Mine.

  The possessive rush threatened to pull her under. It would be so easy to take him in her arms and—

  No.

  Not here and not now.

  “Okay.” She swallowed. “Sorry for putting this on you. It’s not fair. It’s not what you pay for—” Jen fell silent as Nathan took her hand and pressed it to his mouth, the light touch of his lips quieting her.

  “I’m at your service. Both inside and outside of these walls.” He shot her an impish wink. “Besides it gives you something more to punish me for.”

  She laughed, reveling in the humor. “I’ll remember that.” Jen reached up and tugged his ear. “The options certainly present themselves.”

  Chapter Five

  Nathan stood in his doorway and watched Jen —Danielle?— walk down the short path to her car. Usually he watched from the living room, looking out from between the blinds, but this time he wanted her to be able to turn around and see him, see someone standing right there if she needed help.

  It wasn’t just to make her feel safe. He couldn’t be with her all the time, but he’d be damned if he let her out of his sight without doing all he could to protect her. It was a purely emotional response to what she’d told him, and he knew it. But it didn’t make it any less necessary for him to stand there, shivering in only his track pants, as she pulled out of his driveway and onto the street. A cool breeze raced into the house to snap against his aching back, a harsh caress on the marks she’d left on him.

  Nathan scanned the street. A few unfamiliar cars, but that wasn’t a surprise—one of his neighbors had college-age kids, and they constantly had friends visiting and/or staying over.

  No one leaped out of the bushes all dressed in black, screaming as he charged at Jen’s car.

  Nathan grunted, silently wishing it’d be so simple.

  That I could take care of.

  This—I don’t like this other stuff.

  He didn’t close the door until she’d driven around the corner and out of sight.

  At least she’s safe for now.

  Nathan backed into the hallway and closed the door, actively avoiding turning around. It was unlikely any of his neighbors were watching but he didn’t need to give them a free show of the hashtags on his skin.

  His head kept spinning with the recent revelations.

  He didn’t care about the name. It was easy to understand why she’d kept her real name from him.

  And why she’d shared it with him now.

  It was the other details that dug into his mind with iron claws, refusing to let up. He couldn’t shake the vivid images burrowing through his consciousness of Jen in her workplace being terrified by this asshole, Jen in the courtroom watching this bastard scream and swing at her before being dragged away by the bailiffs.

  And now Jen worrying this monster would come after her because he’d kissed a few asses and played his cards right to get out early.

  She’s afraid.

  She needs me.

  I have to do something.

  The surge of possessiveness fought with the rough truth that she wasn’t asking him to do anything other than offer advice from his law enforcement point of view.

  He’d told her the truth. If this guy was truly reformed, she had nothing to worry about.

  He had to believe there was a chance this fellow had honestly realized his problems and dealt with them. It was a basic belief he needed to be a good cop—people could change.

  And if he hasn’t?

  If he’s the same bastard from years ago holding a grudge, ready to come after her now that he’s out?

  Nathan leaned against the wall and winced. If Jennifer needed his help, she’d ask. And he’d deliver without hesitation. After all, he was a cop.

  And, once a week, her willing submissive.

  There was no reason he couldn’t combine the two personas outside of their official relationship. If it kept her alive and safe, he’d make it work.

  However—

  Trust but verify.

  There was something he could do.

  Hang the rules.

  But first—

  Nathan rolled his shoulders back and groaned, mentally and physically exhausted. The session had taken its usual toll, but this new information had drained him.

  She needs me.

  She doesn’t need a tired subbie who can’t make it up the stairs to get cleaned up. Get it in gear.

  It took all his remaining strength to get to the kitchen and pour himself a shot of whiskey, then haul his ass up to the second floor. He watched the tub fill up, sipping on the smooth liquor.

  Nathan flinched and cursed as he settled into the tub. A quick flick of his wrists and the running water was turned off, leaving him in silence.

  He laid his head back and felt the cold ceramic bite into the back of his neck.

  Jennifer.

 
Nathan mouthed the words as he took a deep drink.

  Definitely a Jen. She was right, the name fits her much better.

  Danielle was a nice name, a fluffy name, but Jen had some strength behind it. A tough lady who took no guff from anyone. She’d held her ground even when the creep had been armed and out of control.

  He’d seen lesser men break and run when confronted with the same situation despite all the academy training. The fear had to be dealt with, wrestled to the ground to do what was right and what was necessary.

  You either had it in you or you didn’t.

  And his Jen definitely had.

  She broke his nose.

  It wasn’t hard for his imagination to kick in, seeing her standing her ground against one of the street punks he’d dealt with over the years.

  Jen balanced her weight on the balls of her feet, keeping out of range of the crowbar. The idiot continued to yell and wave the steel bar around.

  The rest of the staff were either behind the desk or dealing with one of their own who was injured.

  Sirens in the distance signaled the end of the confrontation and the beginning of a long, protracted negotiation as the police would urge him to drop the weapon and come on out while he worked the system to get as much as he could for each hostage.

  She wouldn’t let him do that.

  His attention flashed to the window, to the parking lot for a second.

  A second too long.

  Jen stepped inside the danger arc and smashed her fist into his face, hard enough to make him drop the crowbar.

  The injured idiot cupped his face in both hands, shocked at the way the tables had turned on him.

  She hit him again, and he dropped to the ground as the police cars skidded into the parking lot and descended on the clinic.

  Nathan grinned at the imaginary scenario, feeling himself growing hard at the fantasy.

  That’s my strong woman, taking no guff from anyone.

  My Mistress.

  The asshole had probably been surprised to find she had a spine when it came to defending herself and her friends, the street fighter coming out.