Strictly Pleasure: Hooded Pleasures, Book 2

by Sheryl Nantus

  The image disappeared, replaced by empty screen. A few taps on the keyboard, and Oliver watched the screensaver come up, the three-dimensional cubes bouncing around the blackness.

  Oliver stared at it for a few minutes.

  Save the company and lose your soul.

  The mantra of business executives everywhere.

  Although he doubted many of them had tripped over the same dilemma he’d faced.

  Oliver opened up the desk drawer and pulled out Roni’s leather collar.

  He wrapped it around his hand, enjoying the soft but strong feel. The cool metal ring chilled his palm as he tightened his grip.

  When you’re ready, come find me.

  He looked at the clock.

  Odds are she’ll be at Boots ’n’ Chains right now. She would have gone to Matthew and been reinstated at some point, given her bracelet and allowed to go out onto the floor for any Dom to approach.

  His grip intensified on the band, the edges cutting into his fingers.

  What have I done?

  What you had to do, his conscience answered.

  What you needed to do.

  Even though it’s killing you inside.

  * * * * *

  The initial curiosity about her return had worn off as she went to the bar, settling on her familiar stool.

  William the bartender walked over. He grinned as he placed a cardboard coaster in front of her. “What can I get you Mis—” He glanced at her silver bracelet and caught himself. “Veronica.” A pained look came over his face at the error.

  She smiled in spite of herself. “It’s okay. I expect to get a bit of that tonight.”

  The bald man shook his head. “My mistake. I’m sorry. Don’t intend to insult you.”

  “No problem at all. Just water tonight, please.” It took all her self-control not to look around. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking anything stronger.”

  William placed a bottle in front of her and snapped the cap off. “As you wish.” He glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “There’re quite a number of Doms eyeing you. Don’t be surprised if you get more than a few offers.” He gave her a sly wink.

  Veronica raised her bottle in a salute even though the butterflies in her stomach were threatening to pull her down.

  Time to start your penance.

  “Is Mistress Kate here?”

  She didn’t want to wander around the floor, peeking into the booths and scanning the tables.

  “Yes, she is.” William nodded to the left. “She’s over there with Alex. Came in not too long ago.” He put another water bottle on the bar. “I believe she’s in need of another refill, if you’re going to pass her way.”

  Veronica gave him a grateful smile and picked up the bottle.

  * * * * *

  Kate Dubois sat on the black leather cushions, wearing a leather-and-lace corset that pushed her breasts up and almost out of their restraints. The garter belt held up fishnet stockings, and her open-toed shoes were made of the smallest, thinnest black straps Veronica had ever seen.

  Alex Hanson knelt at her feet, stroking her legs with wide-eyed adoration.

  Veronica placed the water bottle on the table and knelt in front of them both.

  Position four.

  Veronica drew a staggered breath, afraid to move.

  “Who—Veronica?”

  She stayed silent as a hand touched her shoulder.

  “Look at me.”

  Veronica raised her head to see Kate’s curious stare.

  “Mistress,” she murmured.

  “Thank you for the water.” Kate handed it to Alex, who obediently opened it up. “Is there anything else?”

  “I—” Veronica swallowed hard. “I want to apologize to you and to Alex.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” Kate said. “Nothing at all.”

  “But—”

  Kate’s tone left no room for discussion. “Any errors in judgment were made by another Mistress. Not the woman in front of me on her knees.” She looked at Alex. “Right?”

  He grinned as she ran her fingers through his short black hair. “I agree, Mistress.” He reached out and took Veronica’s hand. “I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as my Kate makes me.”

  Kate cleared her throat.

  “My Mistress,” Alex corrected himself with a smirk.

  She rolled her eyes and snorted. “You’re being naughty on purpose.” She tapped his collar. “I’m going to finish this drink and then deal with your insubordination.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Alex shot Veronica a wink.

  “As for you—” Kate leaned over and kissed Veronica on the cheek. “Go and be happy.”

  Fighting back tears, Veronica got to her feet and nodded before retreating to the bar.

  It took the better part of an hour for her to make the rest of her apologies, seeking out the subs she’d used and abused.

  None of them were upset, which astonished her.

  “It’s good.” Derek gave her a hug.

  They were both standing against the wall, partially in the shadows.

  “But I was—” Veronica shook her head. “I was awful to you.”

  “And now you know you were wrong.” He touched her silver bracelet. “I’m glad you came over to apologize to me, but it’s okay. I understand.” He smirked as he gave her a playful shove out onto the dance floor. “Now go find yourself a good man.”

  She took his suggestion and danced, seeing a few of the Doms circling around the edges of the room and eying her.

  No one approached her. Within the half-hour, she was back at the bar. A quick look around the lounge revealed most of the submissives were gone already, escorted to the back rooms by Doms and Dommes seeking an evening’s entertainment.

  This isn’t working.

  She held back tears.

  Was I such a bad person?

  “Veronica.” She looked up to see Lucian moving in beside her.

  Her heart began to race. The older man was almost a legend at the club, a gentle giant in his fifties who was a senior Dom. His dark hair, edged with gray at the temples, was long and pulled back into a short ponytail. The gold bracelet shone in the dim lights coming from above.

  He touched her silver bracelet. “I understand you’ve had quite a change as of late.”

  She sighed. “I guess that’s not a big secret.”

  He took her hand. “Don’t be too hard on them.” He nodded toward the dance floor. “They’re all waiting to see who makes the first move. Like at a school dance.”

  Veronica smiled at the mental image of all the club Doms lining up on one side, the subs on the other.

  “But I’m too old to wait.” His voice went lower and deeper as his grip intensified on her wrist. “Would you like to come to a back room with me? I’ll be gentle—” He gave a low growl and a delicious shiver crept up her spine. “Until it’s time not to be.”

  “I’d be honored to be yours for the evening. Sir.” She lowered her gaze and slid off the stool, his hand on hers.

  She tried not to look back as he escorted her away from the bar.

  Oliver poured himself another drink as he studied the sales reports.

  Maybe another store in Vancouver. Is it time to start thinking about expanding into the United States—

  His gaze kept wandering over to the coiled leather collar sitting atop the dark varnished wood.

  You’re not going to be able to avoid her. She’s going to be in your store every day, underfoot as she runs her café. She’s going to be in your boardroom, in your memos, in your sales reports and in your face every time you go and get a cup of coffee.

  So what are you going to do about it?

  Oliver looked at the ceiling and turned slowly in his office
chair. It didn’t take much for his imagination to whip up the scene in his mind.

  After being reinstated, she’d go to the bar, have a drink and let everyone see her. Eventually, a Dom would approach her and make an offer to take her in the back room.

  Oliver grunted.

  Roni would draw them to her like flies to honey and she’d have her pick. Any Dom would be proud to have her at his feet.

  He swallowed hard.

  Even if I went to the club and stood in line, she wouldn’t have time for me. She’s entering a whole new world for her, and she’s not going to want to be locked down to one man, one Dom.

  Not even you.

  Oliver brought his head down to look at the picture of Melissa on his desk. Of the two of them laughing on some beach, snapped only a few months before the car accident.

  Ask yourself what she would want for you.

  Then do it.

  Oliver got out of the chair and picked up the collar.

  What if it’s too late?

  What if she’s already found herself the perfect Dom?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Chai.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It was past midnight when Veronica got out of the cab, giving the driver a nice tip and a flash of stocking leg.

  He’d made it back to her place in record time.

  Given the toothy grin she’d received in response, he appreciated both.

  The outer door was locked, and it took a second to get the key in the lock, hoping Mr. Anderson wasn’t going to come out and offer to “help”. She didn’t want to try to explain why she was totally within her rights as a renter to come in at all hours of the day and night as long as she kept the noise down.

  The bottom apartment remained silent as she stepped inside and climbed the steps to her flat, pulling her red wig off. She ran her fingers through the short blonde hair now released, fluffing it up and free.

  I need a drink.

  She also needed to set up a training schedule for her employees to give them a general knowledge of Greenwood Books. It was guaranteed they’d get questions about where certain books were located, and she wanted them to be integrated into the bookstore as much as possible to help both companies.

  Veronica pushed the door open and stepped inside. She closed the door and kicked off her high heels with a grunt of relief before picking them up by the straps.

  Note to self: Time to go shopping for new shoes.

  She tossed them in the bedroom and walked into the kitchen carrying the wig.

  “What’s up with that?”

  She spun toward the voice, bunching the red tresses up in her hand as a possible weapon.

  Oliver sat in a chair facing her. “The wig. What’s up with the wig?” He eyed her, raising his eyebrows. “You were going to toss it at me? Seriously?”

  “If I needed to.” She advanced on him and flipped on the lights, bringing him out of the darkness. “As to your first question—I wear it to help me distinguish between what’s real and what’s not. When I’m at the club, it’s the fantasy not the reality.”

  “Ah.” He remained seated. “So how did it go tonight?” His gaze settled on the silver bracelet. “Did you get many offers?”

  “Getting personal, aren’t we?” She hadn’t left her bracelet in her locker. She’d worn it all the way home, touching and stroking the slender band in the cab.

  “Just curious.” He dragged his eyes back up to meet hers. “I expect you were the talk of the town.”

  “If I was, then everyone went mute. I apologized to Kate and Alex; to any of the subs who were there I’d abused in the past. I sat and waited. And waited. Finally I got an offer from Lucien.” Veronica dropped the wig on the couch and walked around to sit down. “I don’t know if you’ve met him.”

  “I’ve heard of him.” Oliver’s tone was flat and emotionless. “He’s a good man.”

  “He is,” she agreed. “A kind and gentle man.”

  “So.” Oliver cleared his throat. “Did you go with him?”

  “Of course.” She watched him tense up with the confession, his neck muscles taut and straining. “I’d be a fool to pass on a session with one of the club’s premier Doms.”

  “And?”

  Veronica smiled. “I safe-worded out.”

  The flash of anger in his eyes startled her. “Did he hurt you? Did he—”

  “To repeat a popular phrase, it wasn’t him, it was me.” Veronica looked down at the floor and rubbed her stocking feet against the hardwood floor. “He was quiet but firm, gentle but strict. Everything a submissive could want. I can see why they’re lining up for his attentions.” She smiled at the memory. “I used to think he was a weak man, a wuss because he didn’t snap commands and bark at his women. Now I understand. But it wasn’t working for me, the chemistry. So I worded out, thanked him profusely and came home.” She pulled her head up to glare at Oliver. “And it’s my call who I go with. Not yours.”

  Not yet.

  Veronica bit back the words. “So how the hell did you get in here and what did you come here for?”

  “Mr. Anderson happens to be a big book reader.” Oliver smirked. “I gave him a gift card for letting me in with his spare key. Told him I was going to surprise you.”

  “That you did.” Veronica watched him. “However, my office hours are during the week and only by appointment on the weekend.” She forced herself up from the sofa, her insides churning. “So unless you’ve got more of a reason to be here than just to illustrate how you can bribe my landlord—”

  Oliver’s hand slipped inside his jacket. “I came because of this.” He brought his hand out and opened it.

  The leather collar sat in his hand.

  Veronica touched her throat automatically.

  “I—” He rose to his feet. “I want you. I want you so badly, my teeth hurt.” The words tumbled out over each other. “I couldn’t go to the club tonight because I’ve done that, followed an ex-client to her club and watched her go out into the crowd, flush with her new position. She left with another Dom and I hated myself for letting her go but I had to. It was”—the smile was forced—“the rules.”

  She nodded but said nothing, encouraging him to go on.

  “Then Wendy asked me to take you, and I—” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you did it. You got inside me and—” He curled his hand into a fist, the leather strap hanging out from one side. “I was alive again. I haven’t felt that since Mel, and I didn’t know what to do about it.” Oliver looked at her. “I want you as a business partner because you’re a strong, savvy woman who knows what you want. But I also want you as my woman. I want you to let me take control from you when you need to be set free, to relax and let me take the weight on my shoulders.”

  Veronica put her hands on her hips, letting a sly smile play on her lips. “So a Domme in the boardroom and a sub in the bedroom?”

  “Yes.” He held out the collar. “It’s your decision. As I told you the first time we met, the submissive has the power to always say no.” There was a bit of a tremble as the leather dangled from his fingers.

  The nervous excitement she’d been feeling all evening now coiled into an explosive ball in her belly.

  He wants me.

  But—

  “I want to make a few things clear.” Veronica forced herself to sound calm. “I run Java Jive. If I’m going to be your partner in and out of the bedroom, I need my own space, my own office. I’m not going to be a silent owner letting you have your way with my staff.”

  He raised an eyebrow at the last statement and smiled.

  “Agreed. Although Jane could possibly be—”

  Her self-control broke, and she stepped forward, brushing her feet against his shoes.

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  Both his eyebrows
rose, and before she could make another move, his hand clamped on the back of her neck.

  “Is that any way to talk to your Master?” He tilted her head up so she could see him.

  “Sorry.” She let him know by the tone that she wasn’t.

  “Damn.” His other hand pressed the leather collar against her neck as he released her. “You’ve already started topping from the bottom. That’s a bad habit I’ll have to break.”

  She pulled the collar around and fastened it. “I’ll enjoy letting you try.”

  His self-control was gone, shredded by the emotional firestorm devouring him from inside for hours. As soon as she did up the collar, he put his hand on the back of her neck and drew her to him.

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him hard and deep, the sexual tension between them stretched to the breaking point.

  He pulled back. “Let’s go to your bedroom,” he rasped, already at his breaking point.

  “Yes, Sir.” The mischievous grin had his mouth watering, his hunger for her almost overwhelming his senses.

  He wanted nothing more than to tear her clothing off and throw her on the floor, ravage her as she’d ravaged his imagination for the past few weeks. Instead, he gave her another hard punishing kiss and gave her a shove toward her bedroom.

  She laughed as she walked down in front of him, intentionally giving her hips an extra sway that drove his libido into overload.

  Oliver growled as he walked through the doorway and saw her sprawled on the bed.

  He loosened his tie and pointed at the floor in front of him. “Here. Now.”

  She pouted but slid to the floor on her knees and moved into position.

  He toed off his shoes and looked down at the evil grin.

  “You’ve no idea how much trouble you’ve given me.” Oliver tried to look stern but inside couldn’t stop grinning. “More than a few sleepless nights.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir. May I make it up to you?” Her hands landed on his knees and slowly inched up his jeans, her fingertips intentionally brushing over his growing erection.

  Oliver’s throat went dry, and he nodded, bereft of words.