Nathan heard a growl and realized it was his own voice.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
“Because I wanted to believe it wasn’t him. That it was a prank, kids doing stupid stuff.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t prove anything. And if I’d gone to the police they would have asked where I was when it happened and I’d have to tell them and it’d lead to questions and to you, to us.” She looked at Nathan. “I couldn’t do that to you. Not then and not now.”
He paused, weighing her logic. She was right and wrong at the same time but he understood why she chose that route, even if he didn’t agree.
Jen rubbed her palms on her knees. “The clinic had a bomb threat recently.” She studied her hands. “Nothing came of it. But if it’s Tanner, I don’t see why he’d be attacking my clients. If he was upset with me, angry with me, he should be coming after me. Come to the clinic, see me there.”
“The clinic has upgraded their security,” Nathan said. “He’s not going to go there. It’s not about the clinic anymore.” He cleared his throat. “I need to get something.”
He went to the kitchen, where he’d tucked the file folder under the storage container he had brought the rolls in. Jen hadn’t seen it when he’d come in, or if she had, she hadn’t said anything.
Jen’s accusing glare nailed him as he reentered the living room.
He didn’t flinch.
Protect and serve.
Nathan sat down and opened the folder. “I took the liberty of getting the case file.”
Wendy made some sort of humming noise.
Nathan flipped through the pages. “This guy’s an abuser. Plain and simple. There were previous reports of domestic violence before Sharon Tanner came to your clinic. After he went to jail, she divorced him. Sharon died in a car accident only six months ago. No foul play suspected; it was a multi-car pileup on the highway.”
“At least she had some freedom,” Jen murmured.
“She did,” Nathan said. He looked at Jen. “Where’s the rest of the staff—the ones who were there with you when the incident happened?”
“The rest of the staff have moved on. One down in Arizona, retired. One in Florida,” she answered.
Nathan nodded. “Tanner’s going to have a hard time crossing the border if he wants to go for them. You’re the likely target.”
“Why?” she asked.
Nathan couldn’t help looking at her in disbelief. “You’re the one who stood up to him. You’re the one who put him down. He would have gotten a lot of ribbing about that all the way through the system. Big macho man gets taken out by a woman who breaks his nose?” Nathan couldn’t held back a smile. “He’d get teased and taunted a lot. And the last thing a man has is his dignity, his pride. Especially in prison.”
“I agree,” Wendy said. “Pride is a delicate thing.”
Nathan paused, taking in the statement.
What are you saying?
Jen interrupted his thoughts. “If he followed me around, found Charles, tracked Charles from his home to the bar, then he knows where I live and my routine. If he wanted to get to me, it’d be easy enough.”
“True.” Wendy held out her plate to Nathan. “May I have another?”
Nathan placed another cinnamon roll on it. “Of course.”
He felt her full attention fall on him, inspecting him from top to bottom.
She knows.
She knows there’s more between us than the usual HP relationship.
As if my being here didn’t scream it out loud.
He flinched mentally, remembering his previous use of the Domme’s real name. He’d called her Jen, not Danielle.
Wendy wouldn’t miss something like that.
The jig is up.
“You didn’t make these from scratch, did you?” Wendy asked.
He shook his head. “I might be good at a lot of things, but in the kitchen, it’s usually ‘add water and stir’.”
“Don’t believe him for a second. He makes great lasagna,” Jen said.
Wendy’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing, focusing in on tearing the roll into smaller bite-size pieces with her fork.
“Good to have a man around who can cook outside the bedroom.” She lifted her mug. “May I have a refill?”
Nathan stood up. “No problem.” He took it and headed for the kitchen. Once he got out of sight, he leaned against the counter and allowed himself an internal grumble.
Damn.
Damndamndamn.
The cat’s out of the bag, and now I’m about to get clawed.
He refilled the mug and returned to the living room. He placed the mug back on the table in front of Wendy and returned to his position beside Jen.
Wendy popped the last of the roll into her mouth and wiped her fingers with a napkin. “So what do you want to do?”
Jen stared at her, mouth slightly open. “What?”
“What do you want to do?” Wendy repeated. “This isn’t the military. I can’t order you to keep seeing your clients; I can’t order you to stop seeing your clients. I don’t want to fire you, and I don’t want you to quit. I can’t make this decision for you.” She folded the napkin into a neat square and placed it on the table before sitting up ramrod straight as if finishing off afternoon tea. “What do you want?”
Chapter Thirteen
Jen couldn’t organize her thoughts. It was as if someone had tossed her brain into a blender.
“I want—” She stared at the floor. She didn’t want to look at Nathan. She couldn’t look at him and think straight.
She wanted nothing more than to go hide in her closet and wish this all away.
“Tell me how you became a Domme,” Wendy whispered.
“You already know.” Jen felt like the room was closing in on her. She put the coffee mug down and placed her hands on her knees, willing herself to stay still. “We’ve gone over this. When you interviewed me at the club and offered me this job.”
“Tell me again,” Wendy prompted. She smiled. “Humor an old lady.”
Jen closed her eyes and drew a slow, steady breath. She hadn’t used this calming technique in years.
She needed it now. The darkness balanced her, settled her mind. She could be anyone she wanted to, anything.
She was in charge.
“I’d always been curious about the lifestyle, the kink for years. I read the racy novels from the library, bought more explicit books online and downloaded even more on my computer—but there wasn’t enough of what I liked.” She smiled, remembering the stacks of well-worn paperbacks. “Stories with the woman in charge. I had to imagine the roles reversed—instead of the woman being the submissive and the man the dominant, I twisted it around. The tough woman and the willing, enthusiastic man, the sexy young thing tied up and being punished for some imagined slight by a woman in leather.” She tapped her heart. “By me.”
The cushion next to her shifted, and she remembered who was sitting there.
Nathan.
It made the next few sentences hard to say, but she pushed through it, pushed through the embarrassment. “My first few boyfriends weren’t into it. Most of them were simple men, the usual in-out-in-out-grunt-and-you’re-done stuff. I was afraid to bring it up to them, afraid they’d refuse me or worse, make fun of me. I wasn’t dating when Tanner came into the clinic looking for his wife.”
A hand landed atop hers, the sudden body heat drawing a gasp from her.
Nathan.
She felt his fingers intertwine with hers, lending her his strength. “I was scared all the way through the trial, terrified they’d find him innocent and let him out. When they dragged him out of the courtroom, I told myself it was time to get it together, get on with my life. Start living again. Stop being afraid of what others would think.” She couldn’t hold
back a chuckle. “There was a flyer at the coffee shop one day advertising a local get-together. A general meeting for those who wanted to find out what the BDSM lifestyle was all about, a friendly welcoming place to find out what and who you were if you weren’t certain.” She smiled at the memory. “So many people there—it was glorious.”
“Then you came to the club as a visitor.” Wendy’s voice drifted over her. “And you discovered your true nature as a Domme.”
“It took only a few visits for me to figure out what I wanted. I did my research, attending a few sessions as a spectator. I learned from the others about what to do and how to do it. I love to play.” Jen chuckled. “But I never wanted to settle down with any one man. It was tempting. There were my favorites. Except I kept thinking about the ones who never found the flyers, never got up the nerve to come to the club.” She sighed.
“The lost ones.” Wendy said in a slow, steady tone. “Then you met Evan. And me. And you accepted a job at Hooded Pleasures.”
It was like watching her life rewind behind her eyelids. “Yes. And I’ve never regretted a day of it. Now I get to be who I am and give what I want without any expectations, any demands. No more than I’m willing to give.”
“That’s why you make such a good Domme. Because you know your own limits. You know how to give to your subs and accept what they hand you back in exchange.” There was a pause. “Nathan. Your turn.”
She heard the shift in Wendy’s voice, the steel hidden under the silk.
His grip intensified on her hand. “Why?”
“Because this affects you. If she quits the company, you’ll either have to cancel your contract or accept another Domme. I don’t want her making her decision worried about you.”
“I’m not her only client.”
Jen heard the anger in his words, the jealousy creeping through.
She had no idea sending him to see Charles would have hurt him so much.
Jen kept her eyes closed, wanting to hear his words without any visual distractions.
“I know. You knew before you signed the contract, you knew before you met Jennifer. You knew Kate had other clients. You didn’t come into this relationship totally naïve about the circumstances. Please.”
“I—” He cleared his throat. “I played hockey growing up. I fought on the ice every chance I could get. I liked to get into fights.”
A rough cough scratched the air.
“I also liked to watch movies. The dirty ones, the ones you find as a teenager and think it’s cool because it’s something your parents wouldn’t approve of. I watched them, and it never worked for me. I mean, it worked, but not as much as I wanted. There was something missing. Something—something not connecting.”
A low chuckle, one she’d heard a few times before in his playroom when he’d been naughty on purpose. “When I got older, I joined the force. We had a hockey team. I was a rookie and had energy to burn between work shifts. One time, we had an exhibition game with a team of female players from another league. It was all a case of play gentle, play light and don’t hurt them, at least on our side when we chatted about it in the locker room. When they hit the ice, they came at us full strength and with everything they had.” He let out a low whistle. “To say we were surprised would be an understatement. Alan, our goalie, freaked out when they started peppering him with shots that about ripped his mask right off.”
“Did you win?” Jen couldn’t help asking.
“I can’t remember. I didn’t care.” He laughed again. “All I know is every time one of them hip-checked me into the boards or slammed me to the ground, it felt great, it was such a bloody turn-on, I almost came right there on the ice. All I wanted to do was get physical with these women, these strong women who wanted to control me and every move I made. I didn’t mind losing, not to them. I wanted to lose for the first time in my life, and Lord help me—I loved it.” His fingers twitched in her grip. “So I went looking online and found a whole bunch of people like me, chatting in virtual rooms and on bulletin boards. Men like me. But I couldn’t go to a club, I couldn’t walk in the front door. Not like that. I was too scared to even go to a local meeting because I was afraid someone would make me for a cop.”
She could almost hear him wincing. “Either I’d be mistaken for an undercover looking for a reason to arrest someone or a target for someone to exploit. The public might accept a lot of things, but I don’t want to become the poster child to see if they’re okay with a submissive man who also happens to be a police officer.”
“But then you found us.” Wendy’s voice washed over them both. “We provided a safe place for you to fall. To rise. To embrace your inner nature.”
“Yes.” The heartfelt reply tugged at Jen’s soul. “I’ve never regretted a day of it.”
“So now it comes to this.” Wendy tapped Jen’s leg, hard enough to make her open her eyes. “What do you want to do? Because, like I said, I won’t fire you. This is your decision. We can’t make it for you.”
Jen looked at Nathan. He’d moved closer, using his height to curl around her where they sat on the couch.
My choice. My decision.
My power.
“I won’t let someone else dictate my life. I won’t give control to whoever this is.” Her voice was firm and strong. “I want to catch the bastard and either put him back in jail or put him there for the first time.”
“Good,” Wendy said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and make sure everyone’s safe.”
Everyone.
Jen’s heart sank.
She’d been so busy thinking about herself, Nathan and Charles, she’d forgotten her third client.
“I need to talk to Jake,” Jen said. “I can’t have him unaware someone might be gunning for him.”
Wendy nodded. “We’d already planned to contact him. Evan is working on that aspect. If need be, we’ll pick up the ticket for him to either stay at a hotel or leave the city for a few days. I suspect he’s going to tell us to leave him alone, he’s able to take care of himself.” She chuckled. “He’ll fight us all the way, but he’ll get a guard.”
“Jake’s always been argumentative,” Jen said.
“We have our ways.” Wendy smiled. “That only leaves Charles, and he’s already under our protection, whether he wants it or not.” She looked at Nathan. “And there’s you.”
“I’m okay.” Nathan released Jen’s fingers.
“I’ll take that as a refusal for any extra help,” Wendy said. “I won’t fight you on this. Our resources aren’t limitless, and you’re able to take care of yourself.” She stared at Nathan for a second before switching her attention to Jen. “It’s vital you both be very aware of your surroundings and circumstances for the next little while. If it is this Tanner guy, you are both possible targets.”
Jen shook her head. “This is all my fault. I asked Nathan for help. I pulled him into this.”
“Like I was going to say no?” He suddenly stood, his clenched hands by his sides. The angry growl startled her, the flash of anger in his eyes reminding her of a wild dog only held at bay by command. “As a cop, I’m not going to stand by and refuse to help you. As your sub, I’m sure as hell not going to leave you open to any danger.”
“Nathan.” Wendy stayed seated but her tone locked him in place. “Sit down.”
He paused long enough to earn a disapproving look from Wendy before taking his place.
“I get it. Believe me, I get it.” Wendy smiled. “There’s nothing more powerful than the love a submissive has for his or her Domme. They’ll move heaven and earth for us, take on the biggest dangers and risk their lives for us. That’s why we have to be so careful not to abuse the trust, the love.” She turned her attention on Nathan. “And it works both ways. If you care for her you’ll let us do our investigation and we’ll see where we go from there. Let us use our connections
to check on Tanner’s movements, see if we can catch him in a lie.”
Nathan pressed his lips into a tight line, showing his displeasure.
“With your limited resources.” Wendy eyed him. “I’m not a cop so I don’t understand totally the way you think or work. That’s fine. But I can tell you we have connections in the system that go deeper than your friendships with detectives or with file managers. We can access more information than you can, and if Lucas Tanner has any open doors we can get through and grab him, we will.”
Nathan grumbled. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t expect you to,” Wendy said. “But I expect you to understand procedure. What we have here is a procedure. Having you run outside the lines doesn’t work.” She lowered her voice. “I know you want to make a run at Lucas, get the truth one way or another. But that’ll trip this whole scene up.”
He stayed silent, and Jen knew Wendy’s words had struck home.
Wendy continued, “You’re one hell of a smart cop and a good man. You may not like what I’m telling you, but you know this is the way it’s got to be.”
He grunted what Jen assumed to be an agreement.
Wendy smiled and stood. “Thank you for the coffee and rolls.” She headed for the door, escorted by Nathan and Jen.
Jen felt like she was in some sort of alternative reality, where sitting down with her submissive man and the head of Hooded Pleasures wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
Wendy stopped at the door and turned. She directed her attention at Jen. “I’ll update you as the investigation continues. Best thing for you to do right now is act like there’s nothing wrong. You won’t be seeing Charles, obviously, but don’t change anything else about your routine. We’ll update you about Jake when we get a decision from him.”
“Thank you,” Jen said. “I have to warn Colleen and April there’s a chance this is all connected. It’s unlikely they’re going to be targeted, but they deserve to know.”
Strictly Yours: Hooded Pleasures, Book 3 Page 16
