She knows how to stand on her own two feet. Can she find power on her knees?
Hooded Pleasures, Book 2
Veronica Locksley is a Domme without a club to play in. Suspended from Boots ’n’ Chains for not being gentle with her submissives, she’s offered one chance to regain her status. Spend some time as one of them.
Everything in her rebels at the idea, but she has no choice but to agree.
Oliver Greenwood is a sexy, powerful but widowed Dom who’s ready to emerge from his grieving period. All that stands between him and his return to the dating scene is one last assignment for Hooded Pleasures—to put a Domme under his thumb for six sessions to teach her greater respect for her subs.
Veronica turns out to be more than a handful. Yet even as she butts heads with him every step of the way, he discovers that beneath her tiger-in-the-boardroom personality hides the heart of a true submissive. One that’s extraordinarily easy to fall in love with.
But before she can become anyone’s dream—including her own—he has to let her go. And hope she finds the path that will lead back to his arms.
Warning: Brooding Dom bookstore owner who’s looking to begin living again and a tough businesswoman who doesn’t realize that being on her knees makes her stronger, not weaker.
Strictly Pleasure
Sheryl Nantus
Dedication
For my husband who continues to have infinite patience and a deep love of pizza. My deep thanks to my agents, Rachel Brooks and Louise Fury, for their continued support. And, of course, so much appreciation and gratitude to my editor, Linda Ingmanson, who makes this all work!
Chapter One
“You can’t ban me.” Veronica Locksley crossed her arms over her chest, hoping the gesture would hide her shaking hands. “I’m a full-fledged member. I pay my dues.”
She’d come into Boots ’n’ Chains for a usual Saturday night of fun—pick out one of the handsome young submissives at the bar or on the dance floor and give him the time of his life.
Instead, a few minutes after arrival, she had been directed by Jackie, the assistant manager and gatekeeper, to go straight to the manager’s office.
Do not pass go, do not collect any subs and go straight to jail.
Or worse.
“You’re a liability.” Matthew Beck sat behind his desk. It was empty of everything other than a single file folder flipped open to show a stack of sheets at least a half-inch thick.
She didn’t have to ask what they were, because she had a pretty good guess.
Complaints.
Against her.
Matthew stroked his jet-black goatee, glaring at her. “I’ve given you warnings. Suspensions. More than I should have. If this were any other establishment, you’d have been blackballed long before now.” He raised one eyebrow. “If I recall correctly, we’re the last club in town you haven’t been banned from.”
Time to turn on the charm.
She smiled and leaned on the edge of the desk. “That’s because you’re wiser than those other managers.” She gestured at the papers. “You know most of those complaints come from whiny little boys who don’t understand what it means to be a submissive. They want to play games, and when I call them out—”
“No.” The stern tone startled her into silence, cutting off her explanation.
He stood, and Veronica had to hold herself in place, instinctively wanting to step back. Suddenly the small office seemed much, much smaller, mentally returning her to the principal’s office when she was caught smoking in the girls’ washroom.
Matthew was a tall man with broad shoulders, and impeccably dressed. The white shirt hung open enough to display the thin chain around his neck.
His collar.
His eyes narrowed as he saw her studying the silver links. “Do not mistake my preferences for a weakness,” he growled. “I may be a sub, but I’m not yours. I’m the manager, and I’m responsible for keeping everyone safe and sound when they come here. I know that those men you took into the back rooms knew damned well what they wanted.” A flash of anger in his eyes startled her, rattled her already-raw nerves. “You abused their trust.”
Veronica made a dismissive wave of her hand, trying to strengthen her argument. “I left them with a few bruises, if that. Nothing that won’t heal with time.” She felt the weakness in her words, the argument already lost. “They all agreed to go with me. I never took anyone against his will.”
“Yes. That’s true,” Matthew conceded. He sat down and reached for his half-full coffee cup. “Consent isn’t the issue here. Your continued aggression is the problem. This crap can’t go on. This last complaint coming so soon after your public fight with Kate—”
Bitch.
Veronica held her tongue, knowing it’d go worse for her if she said it out loud. Kate Dubois was one of Boots ’n’ Chains’ favorite Dommes, having just returned from a self-imposed exile to a glorious debut with her new submissive, Alex Hanson.
A lovely man she’d tried and failed to seduce on his first trip to the club, the puppy retreating as Kate came forth out of the shadows to claim him. A damned idiot who had no idea what Veronica could give him and instead tucked his tail between his legs and ran.
Right to Kate.
The curses died in her throat.
Badmouthing Kate and Alex wasn’t going to win any points.
“I can’t have you scaring off new members or pissing off the regulars.” Matthew jabbed at the file folder. “I’ve already put you on probation more than anyone else in the club. At this point, you’re damaging our reputation and affecting our business.”
Veronica swallowed hard, feeling the nervous burn in her belly.
She knew business.
She knew what a good employer had to do keep the company going.
But she didn’t have to like it or agree to it.
Don’t ban me.
You can’t ban me.
The plea stalled in her throat.
Don’t beg.
It’s too late for that.
A cold flush of fear shot through her veins at the idea of being tossed out of Boots ’n’ Chains.
She settled herself on the chair, the cold wooden seat chilling her skin.
Matthew entwined his fingers and laid his hands on the desk. “I’ve spoken to the other managers at the clubs you’ve been banned from. They won’t have you back for the same reasons we’re discussing here.” He stared at her. “So what should I do? Warning you doesn’t work. Suspending you doesn’t work. It hasn’t worked at any of the other clubs, and we’re now in the same place you were with them. So I’m forced to consider their final response to your continued infractions. Permanent banishment from this establishment.”
Her tongue went numb, the thickness filling her mouth.
What can I tell you—
She ran through all her excuses and found all of them wanting.
Matthew must have sensed her discomfort, because he kept on talking. “Strangely enough, you’ve already given me the answer. I realized it when I thought of your run-in with Kate and Alex.” The thoughtful smile didn’t alleviate her growing sense of trepidation.
He put his hands together as if in prayer. “I can’t have an abusive Domme in my club. It’s dangerous and goes against everything I stand for, everything this community stands for. Safe, sane, consensual. Remember that?” His gaze softened, and she saw the sub in him, the caring male that some lucky woman had caught and collared. “But I’m not going to throw you o
ut like all the others have. I’m going to give you one last chance to figure out what your problem is, why you keep going over the edge.” He tapped the folder. “I have a contract in here for Hooded Pleasures.”
Veronica frowned. “The agency?”
“Yes. What do you know about them?” Matthew asked. “I assume you’ve picked up information here and there.”
She cleared her throat, more secure answering the simple question. “A private company. Some of their employees are members here and elsewhere, all Dominants. They deliver home services for those men and women who won’t or can’t come to the clubs.” She couldn’t help smirking. “For those too cowardly to come out and play.”
The softness disappeared. “For those who won’t or can’t,” he rephrased her last sentence.
Matthew rose again, towering over her. “Policemen. Judges. Lawyers. For those who can’t afford to be seen in a club, for whom exposure could destroy their lives.” He pointed at her. “You and I can afford the luxury of being who we are without suffering much other than a few nasty words and whispers behind our backs. Maybe a disapproving look here and there. The worst for most of us is that we don’t get invited over for dinner or cut off the Christmas card list.”
Matthew jabbed a thumb at the wall. “There are people out there who have to close off this part of themselves for fear of being exploited, blackmailed. Whether it’s because of their employment or their heritage, they can’t come out of the shadows and enjoy a simple night at the club. They are the ones Hooded Pleasures deals with.” He ran his fingers over the folder. “Sometimes it’s not that complicated. Sometimes it’s dealing with those who are too timid to come out to a new members’ night because they’re not sure if it’s what they want. So they pay for someone to come to their homes and learn in private what it’s like to be a submissive, what their inner nature is crying out for. Usually they migrate to the clubs and come into our society better off for their time with HP.”
“Like Alex,” Veronica said, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible.
She’d picked up the back story between Kate and Alex after she’d served her last suspension and returned.
“Like Alex,” Matthew repeated. “And that’s what gave me this idea.” His gaze fixed her like a specimen on a slide. “Effective immediately, you are indefinitely suspended from Boots ’n’ Chains.”
Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed instinctively, not wanting to throw up.
No.
You can’t—
“But I’m giving you a choice. You can either accept your banishment, or you can agree to take sessions from a Hooded Pleasures employee. A Dom who knows what he’s doing.” Matthew locked eyes with her. “He’ll come to your home and teach you what being a Domme is all about.”
Veronica frowned. “I don’t understand. How is he going to teach me? Does he have a private submissive or—”
Matthew shook his head. “You’re going to learn by being his submissive for six two-hour visits.”
She rocked back in her chair as if he’d punched her.
“No. No way. I’m no sub.” She spat the words out like poison.
“I didn’t say you were or weren’t. But you’ve got problems dealing with them, and this is the only way I can think of that’ll make you more sympathetic to their needs, to their desires.” He spread his hands. “Maybe this is all about you not being where you want to be, being who you truly are. I don’t know. I’m no psychologist and don’t want to be. But I know one thing about submissives—you don’t appreciate them.” He glared at her. “You don’t appreciate the love and the responsibility given to you. You don’t understand the gift a sub bestows on the dominant partner. Maybe if you see how it is from the other side you’ll get what being a good Domme is all about. Or maybe find out who you truly are inside.” A hint of a smile touched his lips. “Maybe there’s a bit more submissive inside you than you want to admit.”
She wanted to reach over and slap him.
Ridiculous.
What the hell does this guy know about me? Nothing.
Other than my checks don’t bounce when I pay that extravagant membership fee.
Veronica shook her head. “Even if I agreed to this stupid game, I can’t afford their rates. And I doubt they’re going to give over one of Wendy’s boy toys for free.”
“She’s not. We’re paying. Consider it part of your membership fees going to a good cause.” Matthew moved around the desk to stand in front of her. “No one will know other than the two of us, Wendy and the Dom she chooses. That’s why they come to your house, after all. Total confidentiality. Your absence from the club, if it’s noticed, will be seen as just another suspension. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” His voice softened. “You’re a good woman Veronica. I like you. Others like you. I see the good in you, the beautiful woman under the anger. But you don’t seem to understand the responsibility a Domme has—the unspoken contract between a Dominant and a submissive. Maybe this will help you figure this out. Maybe it won’t. But I feel I have to try this one last option before I close these doors to you forever.” He touched the thin chain around his neck. “You deserve to be happy. Let me do this for you.”
Veronica couldn’t find her voice, his sudden gentleness cutting through her carefully crafted emotional armor like a virtual samurai sword.
“Here.” He opened the folder and placed it front of her. “Please sign at the bottom. I’ll pass this onto them along with your file here at the club as to your hard limits, likes and dislikes. They’ll be in touch.” Matthew plucked a pen from the stack filling the generic white mug on the desk and placed it atop the pages.
He stood back and waited.
Veronica picked up the pen and scribbled her name on the line, forcing herself to stay calm.
This is madness. Sheer madness.
But I’ve got no choice.
“O-Okay,” she stammered. “But I reserve the right to walk out at any time.”
He nodded. “Of course. You’ll be held to the same rules as any HP client. You can cancel the contract whenever you want. But if you do before the sessions are over or the HP Dom approves your return, the club doors will be permanently closed to you.” Matthew shook his head. “I can’t risk the mental and physical health of my members. I’m sorry. I hope you’ll take this gift and become a better woman and a better Domme for it.” He reached out and touched the gold bracelet she wore on her left wrist, indicating her Dominant status in the club. “If that’s what you find out you truly are.”
Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers slipped under the thin metal.
I’m a Domme.
What else could I be?
A quick twist and the bracelet was off, leaving an empty space both on her skin and in her heart.
He walked back around his desk before opening a drawer and dropping the simple gold band inside. “When you’ve been approved by Hooded Pleasures, you can have it back. All he needs to do is notify HP that he’s done educating you and they’ll let me know.” Matthew eyed her. “Or you can have a silver one.” He smiled. “Being a submissive isn’t that bad. I hope you’ll come to appreciate that.”
She didn’t know what to say in response, so she nodded.
What the hell am I getting myself into?
He gestured at the door. “Thank you. You’ll have to leave now. I’ll escort you to the locker room and then outside.”
She followed him in stunned silence. Matthew stayed with her as she picked up her coat and purse and walked out to the street where the doormen waited.
“Please call a taxi for Ms. Locksley,” he said to one man. “Veronica won’t be back for a little while.”
They nodded, familiar with the routine.
Veronica felt her cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being walked out of the club.
Again.
Okay, she told herself. All I have to do is get the guy to sign off on this crazy scheme, and I’ll be back.
She straightened up, mentally steeling herself for the upcoming battle.
Easy peasy. Either he’ll want to get rid of me as soon as possible, or he’ll see it my way.
Matthew touched her shoulder as the car pulled up. “I hope to see you soon.”
She resisted the urge to grin.
Sooner than you might think.
Veronica nodded and got into the cab without looking back.
* * * * *
Oliver Greenwood paced around the meeting room, circling the expensive rosewood table clockwise first, then counterclockwise.
The phone call had been delightfully vague—enough to tease his curiosity and bring him downtown on a Sunday morning.
Please come to the office.
Wendy would like to see you.
When one of the two owners of Hooded Pleasures asked you to come in, you usually came in.
Unless you never wanted to work for them again.
The door opened, and Wendy McMaster walked in. The plus-sized woman wore a sharp-looking black blazer and matching pants, the pale pink blouse a lovely counter to the darkness. She carried a dark blue file folder.
“Oliver.” She reached out and shook his hand. “Thanks for coming in. I appreciate it.” She gestured at one of the plush dark leather chairs. “Please sit. Can I offer you some coffee?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” He adjusted his tie as he settled into the chair. “You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I came straight from work.”
“No problem.” Wendy looked him over and smiled. “You always look good in a suit and tie.” She frowned. “Early event? It’s only nine in the morning.”
“No rest for the weary, especially when the store’s open twenty-four hours a day. We’ve got an author signing today. New release going out.” He smiled. “Nora Roberts. I can get you an autographed copy if you’d like.”
Given the excitement in her eyes, he knew she would.
Strictly Pleasure: Hooded Pleasures, Book 2 Page 1
