Strictly Yours: Hooded Pleasures, Book 3

by Sheryl Nantus

Jen stepped on the gas lightly, enough to pull into her apartment building parking lot.

  Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean he’s not after you.

  She parked the car and got out, returning the attendant’s wave as she walked around the front and headed for the elevator.

  Jen stopped.

  Something’s wrong.

  She spun around and stared at her car.

  Angry scratch marks ran along the passenger side of the car, scarring the black paint.

  She hadn’t seen it when she’d gotten in at Nathan’s.

  Jen forced down the nausea and walked around her car, studying the scratches.

  They were childish scrawls, likely from a key or some sort of metal object.

  Like a crowbar.

  The logical part of her mind kicked in, trying to drown out the panic.

  Kids. Pranksters. Damned juveniles. They’re everywhere.

  It could have been there for days. Who the hell walks around their car before getting in?

  It could have happened at the grocery store, the clinic—

  At Nathan’s.

  Her throat burned, her stomach twisting into knots.

  No.

  I will not give in to this.

  I’m stronger than that.

  She forced herself to look around casually, aware her tormentor could be watching.

  Jen put her hands on her hips and let out a low whistle. She shook her head and chuckled, as if discovering a wad of gum under her shoe.

  Whoever you are—you don’t scare me.

  I won’t let you.

  She forced herself to stroll slowly to the elevator and made her way to the lobby where she checked her mailbox and nodded to the doorman before heading up to her floor.

  Let it go, she told herself.

  Let. It. Go.

  I’m home.

  I’m safe.

  She yanked on the front door hard after entering and shooting the dead bolt home.

  Secure.

  She headed for the bedroom, her usual routine shattered.

  Jen tugged at the sweatshirt and caught Nathan’s smell on it, his scent helping calm her racing heart.

  You should call Nathan, her inner voice bleated. Tell him about the car scratches.

  And tell him what? She countered. That you know it was Tanner? You can’t prove it. All it’ll do is send him off on a rant and possibly into trouble.

  It’s nothing. Let it lie.

  She flashed back to the nap and the meal, the wonderfully domestic routine helping banish the last vestiges of fear from her mind.

  Jen undressed and carefully folded the sweat shirt and pants and placed them on a waiting chair in her bedroom. She wanted to keep them in sight so she’d remember to take them back to Nathan on the next visit.

  The nagging little voice in the back of her head laughed.

  Of course. That’s all there is to it.

  Nothing about trying to keep him close, keep the memory of a quiet time.

  She took a shower and put on her favorite white terrycloth robe, the hot water helping her to settle down from a day filled with surprises.

  She felt…invigorated. Refreshed.

  Pretty darned good.

  Usually her sessions left her drained, the physical and mental games taking a toll on her. But the deep sleep at Nathan’s along with a hearty meal had her whistling a jaunty tune as she headed for the kitchen with the knapsack.

  Whatever her mood she needed to wash out her clothing.

  More so now that she’d slept in the corset and nylons.

  The routine helped settle her and not too long afterward she sat down on the couch with a fresh cup of coffee; her mind tried to comprehend the events of the past few hours.

  What have you done? The demon on her shoulder started up again.

  Nothing against the rules, she argued with herself. There was nothing in there about taking a nap at a client’s house or staying for a meal although she was damned sure Wendy would have a few words to say about it if she found out.

  Extenuating circumstances or not.

  She rolled her shoulders, feeling relaxed and calm.

  The only thing better would be—

  Her imagination supplied an alternate scenario.

  She grabbed the back of Nathan’s neck, her grip tight.

  He grinned, relinquishing control to her for a bit longer.

  Jen kissed him hard, keeping a firm hold on his neck.

  It wasn’t necessary.

  He moaned and shifted to move in closer, his hands moving to her waist and tangling in the lace.

  “Yes,” she murmured as he pulled her onto his lap, settling her against his full arousal. His hips rocked from side to side with a primeval rhythm.

  “Stay still,” she ordered as she reached down between them and took hold of him, feeling the silken steel she’d created and nurtured leap at her touch. A few brief strokes had him whimpering into her mouth, unintelligible pleas for release.

  Jen stood up. Nathan licked his lips, the hunger in his eyes demanding action. It took seconds to strip off her panties and straddle him, her nylons pressing against his torso as she centered herself over him.

  “Slow,” she ordered. “Go too fast and I’ll leave.”

  “At your command.” Nathan grinned, his hands digging into her hips to guide her as she sank down on him. The strangled cry told her he was close, the sweat on his forehead signaling he was quickly approaching his limits.

  She finished her descent and stayed still, relishing the feeling.

  He wriggled under her and let out a grumbled curse.

  Jen drew her fingernails down his bare chest. “Don’t. Move.”

  His neck muscles were so taut Jen thought he’d snap in two.

  “Yes, Mistress.” He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

  She began to move, drawing him in deep until he filled her in a way she’d never felt before. His fingers tightened on her skin as she moved, and she knew he was close to the edge and waiting for her command.

  “Nathan.” The low whisper had him forcing his eyes open to see her.

  Jen leaned down and brushed her lips against his. “Now.”

  She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead, trying to push out the ideas crashing together in her mind.

  The club.

  Nathan.

  Dating.

  No.

  She wasn’t looking for a man right now, wasn’t looking for a relationship. She enjoyed playing the field when she went to Boots ’n’ Chains. It’d been a few weeks since she last went but there was nothing holding her back, nothing stopping her from doing more than sitting at the bar and watching the scene around her.

  She was getting what she needed being a Domme-for-hire for Hooded Pleasures and keeping herself free of emotional entanglements.

  Jen sipped the coffee and found it still too bitter.

  Wasn’t she?

  * * * * *

  “You look pretty good for someone who got slammed on the floor a few days ago.” Henry looked over at Nathan. He’d hesitated a minute when Nathan had told him to drive but had recovered enough to eagerly grab the keys. “You sure you’re not a robot?”

  Nathan chuckled. “For that crack, you’re buying the coffee. And none of the cheap dime-store crap; we’re going to the fancy all-night drive through for the good stuff.” He rolled his shoulders, feeling a slight twinge. “I got a good sleep in. Fixed me right up.”

  Nothing like a good flogging to take your mind off work.

  His partner nodded. “Physical therapy’s good for that. My cousin’s an expert who deals with sports injuries.” He lifted his left arm and showed Nathan his elbow. “Got it all messed up playing football. Wen
t to him a few times, and he worked it back, although it hurt like hell before, after and during the treatment.” Henry swung his forearm. “Fine now. Amazing what a little pain now can get you in the long run.”

  Nathan flashed back to standing in his basement, the tension on his cock and balls flexing every time he swallowed.

  “Yep.” He looked out his window, grateful for the night shadows. “No pain, no gain.”

  An image of Jen asleep on his bed shot into his mind’s eye, occupying his thoughts.

  I’ll keep you safe.

  “So what’s on the schedule tonight?” Henry asked.

  Nathan laughed. “Saving the world again. Like we do every night.”

  He settled down for what he hoped would be a quiet night shift with the memories of a few hours ago keeping him warm against the cold winter air battering the squad car’s windows.

  It’d been an uneventful few days since Nathan’s impromptu dinner with Jen and he’d gone through the entire tray of lasagna, pushing himself with intense workouts on the gym equipment in the spare bedroom upstairs to work it off.

  It wasn’t hard to find inspiration. Every time he began to falter, he’d think about Jen sitting on the couch downstairs.

  Waiting for him.

  Usually the vision would press him into doing more reps, pushing himself to the limit.

  He wanted to be ready if she needed him.

  For anything.

  * * * * *

  Wednesday night started off in darkness and silence, much like the others.

  “Letting me drive again, boss?” Henry laughed as he took the keys from Nathan.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Nathan warned. “You’ll have to share with your partner when you leave me.”

  Henry shook his head. “Don’t think I’m anywhere near ready yet.”

  “My call,” Nathan said. “Not yours. Stay focused and stay frosty.”

  Henry didn’t say anything but stared at the road.

  Good kid, Nathan said silently. You’ll make someone a good partner.

  This was the one part of the job he disliked. He’d had his share of rookies rolling through his life, kids at the beginning of their law enforcement career who needed the polish taken off their fresh, new badges. It seemed as soon as he got comfortable with the man or woman, it’d be time for them to transfer out.

  It wasn’t a bad thing. Nathan knew he’d be sending a well-trained cop to a grateful new partner and he’d done what he was supposed to be doing.

  Still didn’t make it any easier when he had to let go.

  They’d barely started the alley patrol when the call came in.

  The radio beeped to life with the calm female voice droning out the information. Nathan nodded with approval as Henry turned the lights and sirens on even as he turned the car toward the address given. The rookie was learning fast and didn’t bat an eyelash as the details sank in.

  A bar fight on Queen Street.

  That’d keep them busy for a few hours.

  And keep his mind off of Jennifer.

  * * * * *

  It was Sunday and he knelt by the coffee table in his living room, waiting for her with a sense of glee he’d never had before, not with any woman.

  He wanted to see her.

  He needed to see her.

  The door opened, and he let out his breath in a single long sigh. The cool winter breeze rushed over his body, raising goose bumps as his knees pressed against the varnished hardwood floor.

  He couldn’t see anything but her feet as she strode toward him. The long slender toes encased in high black pumps, the tiny stiletto heels carrying her to him.

  His cock bobbed to attention, his hips shifting in spite of her long-standing order to stay still when she approached.

  “Happy to see me?” The low growl had him grinning like a kid on Christmas Day.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Good. Me too. Let’s take this downstairs.”

  He heard the laughter in her words and relaxed.

  * * * * *

  An hour later Jen sat on the couch with Nathan in her arms. His bare chest heaved as he came down from his endorphin high, the sweat cooling on his skin as he nuzzled her neck and let out a contented grunt.

  She stroked his back gently, careful not to press on the raised stripes she’d placed there. The skin wasn’t broken, and the marks would disappear in a few days, but he’d carry them on the inside forever.

  Jen hummed contentedly to herself, allowing herself to go limp in his embrace. She usually didn’t allow herself to relax, to wallow in the emotional waves she’d created but this was different.

  This was Nathan.

  It’d been a good session, a lovely session, something she’d needed as much as he did.

  Nothing had changed between them.

  And yet everything had.

  Nathan stayed silent as usual, answering only when she asked him to, his obvious enthusiasm pushing him to the point where she’d backed off more than once out of fear he’d come and terminate their session.

  He’d responded beautifully to her demands today. She’d run the gauntlet—starting off with a spanking and then moving him to the flogging post with a dash of obedience training to finish off. She was careful, pushing the healing shoulder as far as she dared. It’d only been a week since his injury and while he’d claimed to be fully recovered, she wasn’t a sadist.

  She’d noticed his wincing every now and then when he rolled his shoulder, his lips pressed into a tight line as he put the pain to the side. Jen backed off without saying a word.

  Maybe he noticed the change in her behavior, maybe he didn’t. She wasn’t going to give him the choice, make him consider safe-wording out or worse, injuring himself out of selfish pride.

  It was up to her to know where the limits were.

  A good Domme knew when to push and when not to push.

  Jen allowed herself a satisfied sigh as her own sweat cooled. A quick tug brought the blanket up over them both, wrapping them in a loose cocoon as they recovered.

  She reached behind and undid the lock on his collar, wrapping it into a tight leather circle before placing it on the table.

  Nathan mumbled something before falling silent again. His closed eyes twitched, showing the light sleep he’d gone into.

  Jen allowed her mind to wander.

  Her entire world had changed substantially in the last month.

  But nothing had changed.

  She was still Danielle.

  And Jennifer.

  And everything in between.

  “What are you thinking about?” The low heavy whisper brought her down to earth with a crash so loud in her mind she looked around the room for the source.

  “I can hear you.” Nathan yawned and stroked her arm.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be thinking out loud.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Excusable. Are things okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you for asking.” Jen passed him a granola bar. “Eat.”

  He tore the wrapper with his teeth and took a bite, talking around the nutty wafer. “I understand why you’d be nervous because things changed between us, that you told me things you haven’t told anyone else. But I don’t want anyone else.” He locked eyes with her. “Only you, Jennifer. Only you.”

  The emotion smashed into her heart, stealing her breath.

  Unable to speak, she pulled him close and hid her face in his hair to conceal the handful of tears breaking free.

  * * * * *

  Jen sung loudly and off-key with the songs booming out of her car stereo all the way home, her mind racing over possible future scenarios with Nathan. She might not be able to take him to the club, but there was so much she could do for him, with him that would duplicate the scene.

&n
bsp; Give him what he wanted but couldn’t have.

  Her life wasn’t perfect, but right now, it was damned good.

  The shadows nagging the edges of her mind weren’t gone, but they were a whole lot dimmer than they’d been a day ago.

  The phone rang as she pulled into her parking spot. A fast glance showed it was HP.

  “Hello?”

  “Danielle? Tracy, here.”

  Jen frowned as she slid out of the car and turned to grab her backpack off the front seat. “I’m okay. Did I forget to—”

  “Charles just called and canceled his contract.” There was no explanation.

  There didn’t need to be.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jen murmured as she hefted the pack onto her right shoulder. “Did he say why? Did he have any complaints about me?”

  Mentally, she ran over her last session with Charles, only a few days ago. It’d been a routine visit, and she hadn’t picked up any bad vibes. His place, his playroom and his secrecy assured.

  “He didn’t say anything other than he wanted to cancel his contract with HP,” Tracy said. “You know how it goes. If he had a problem with you, he would have said something or asked for another Domme.”

  Jen imagined the dispatcher’s neutral shrug.

  “I asked for the record, but he said he needed to move on, and that was that. Sometimes they leave without saying much,” Tracy added. “I’ve had enough of those to know not to get upset when that’s all we can get. Don’t worry about it.”

  Jen shook her head as she headed for the garage elevator. “I know. I just hate losing anyone.”

  “Don’t think of it as losing a client. Think of it as he’s moving on to something better. Probably see him at the club in a few weeks at the end of some lucky woman’s leash.” Tracy laughed softly. “You know they always leave in the end.”

  The elevator lurched along with Jen’s stomach.

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks for the update.” She punched the floor button.

  “Should I tell Wendy you’re open to taking on another client?”

  The question jolted Jen out of her mourning for Charles.

  “Tell her—” She paused trying to gather her thoughts. “Tell her I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Roger that. Sorry for being the bearer of bad news. Have a good day.” Tracy hung up as the elevator settled on Jen’s floor.