Strictly Business

Kate Dubois was bored.

She looked down at the man nuzzling her bare ankle. She’d let him strip off the leather boot after he’d pleaded for the privilege, begged for ten minutes.

His lips ran over her ankle, soft kisses caressing her skin. He sighed as he worshipped her body.

A memory resurfaced of Carl, kneeling at her feet and doing the same. It’d been different, felt different—his body tensed up like a watch wound one twist too tight.

He looked up, and she knew it was over.

Kate gulped.

“Mistress?” Dan looked up at her with wide eyes. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Damn.

“No, pet. You’re perfect.” She reached down and patted his head before tangling her fingers in his long black locks. A gentle tug brought a moan from the kneeling man. “But I don’t recall giving permission for you to speak.” Kate ran her fingers along the leather collar. “Do you?”

The momentary flash of panic in his eyes warmed her heart.

She tapped the leather paddle she held in her left hand against her leg. “I thought not. I think a few strokes should remind you of your manners. Continue your venerations while I make my decision about how many you’ve earned with your disobedience.”

He shook with a mixture of need and fear before bending down.

Kate switched the paddle to her right hand and eyed the already pink skin on Dan’s exposed behind. She’d worked him over for a good half hour, bending him over his couch like an errant schoolboy.

He could take ten more strokes.

Maybe twenty.

Dan gasped as the black leather snapped against his sensitive skin, but said nothing, continuing to lick and kiss her bare foot.

Nineteen to go.

The soft chime from her phone reminded her she had fifteen minutes left. Kate smiled and continued the count.

Never leave a good job unfinished.

Never leave them fully satisfied.

She’d pulled on her track pants and sweatshirt while Dan was in the washroom, trading her boots for a pair of comfortable sneakers. Most times she could slip her trench coat on over her attire and leave, but it was a bright and sunny day outside and the coat would only raise more questions than it’d quell.

Dan met her at the door, wearing a pair of shorts and with a damp towel around his neck. The leather collar was gone, safely tucked away. He was still munching on the chocolate bar she’d given him during their post-session hugging. His pupils were focused and clear, showing her he’d come back to himself after the intense emotional trip.

“Thank you.” He held out his debit card. “Really needed this today.”

She smiled. “Glad I could help you.”

In another life, Dan was a high-priced lawyer, one of the best in the city. He ran his law firm with an iron grip and was famous for his vicious verbal attacks in court that eviscerated lesser lawyers and their clients.

Here, he was a bad boy needing to be punished and put in his place for imagined slights.

Dan couldn’t go to a regular BDSM club—the danger was too high he’d be recognized. Thus he’d become a client of Hooded Pleasures, the company Kate worked for.

In retrospect, she wondered why no one had thought of doing something like this before. Safe, sane, consensual and all within the privacy of your own home. There were plenty of men and women who wanted the experience but couldn’t or wouldn’t go to a club. Or who wanted the thrill without the relationship.

This was perfect.

She ran his debit card through the slot on her cell phone and handed it back to him. “Two weeks from now, then?”

He nodded, his steely blue eyes a thousand miles away from the meek sub she’d had at her feet earlier. “I have a big murder case coming up. Definitely need the time.”

“I understand.” Kate hefted the duffle bag onto her shoulder, the leather paddle safely tucked away with her other toys. “Please call the switchboard if there’s any change. I’ll see you then.”

He opened the door to let her out. “Nice sweats.”

Kate smiled, going with the joke. “Feel the burn.”

“Next time, then.” Dan raised his voice as Kate walked out into the hall. “Need to work on my cardio.”

It wasn’t for her benefit.

Kate nodded at the nosy little old lady neighbor who peeked out from two doors down.

Mrs. Henderson never missed a chance to eavesdrop on what happened on her floor.

Good thing Dan enjoyed the ball gag.

The woman scowled at her and shut the door, her regular routine accomplished. Kate resisted the urge to wave at her. There was a chance it might lead to a conversation, and she couldn’t risk it. Her cover story was good, but a dedicated busybody might try to poke holes in it, and that wouldn’t turn out well.

As far as anyone knew, Kate was a private trainer, coming to work Dan hard for two hours every two weeks.

Which she did, with pleasure.

Which he paid for, with pleasure.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Another success for Hooded Pleasures.

Her phone rang as she strolled out onto the sidewalk. She looked at the display and saw HP’s number come up.

Kate frowned. This wasn’t usual.

She’d sent her safe-word text to let Dispatch know she finished her appointment and was free to leave right after caring for Dan. It was mandatory at the end of every appointment without any exceptions, keeping both of them out of trouble.

Safe-words worked on both ends of the equation.

“Hello?”

“Kate. Tracy here.”

The head dispatcher. The one woman who, aside from the owners, knew who was where doing what to whom across the board. A powerful position, which was why Kate was very sure Tracy’s name wasn’t actually Tracy.

“Wendy wants you to come in for a meeting.”

Kate jaywalked across the busy street, hopping over the streetcar tracks. Toronto might have a great mass transit system, but she didn’t need to twist her ankle trying to avoid the thick metal strips.

Her car sat around the corner in a public parking lot, one of many set around the downtown core. There were few visitor spots at Dan’s apartment building, and she didn’t want to take one up on a regular basis.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. For a frantic second, she considered her last few minutes with Dan. “Are there problems?”

If he called and complained—

“No, no. Nothing like that. She wants to discuss a new client with you.”

Kate popped the trunk of her Ford Taurus and dropped the bag in. “I’m not interested in taking on anyone new. I’m happy with the workload I have now.” She resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone was listening.

“It’s a special case, and Wendy wants you.” The tone in Tracy’s voice left no room for argument. “Tomorrow morning at nine would be good.”

A Saturday? Must be special.

“I’ll be there. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Tracy smoothly replied. “Dan called in and put a nice tip on your bill today. You must have been good.”

Kate laughed as she fumbled with her car keys. “Only he’ll ever know.”

The sky was a lovely combination of reds and blues, the cool breeze coming off of Lake Ontario racing through her open car windows. It was a lovely drive with little traffic and it wasn’t long before she pulled into her condominium’s underground parking.

The elevator let her off in the main lobby in front of the security desk, a necessary evil to keep the building as secure as possible.

She nodded at the security guard as she moved to the second set of elevators, the ones leading to the suites. He stared back, a stoic statue. Three years and he’d never said a word to her, never offered to call the elevator for her when she had packages, never looked curious when she came in at odd hours of the day and night and he was on duty.

He did his job and nothing more, nothing less.

The condo was a present from her parents, a graduation gift.

Guilty compensation for her years spent at boarding schools, far away from her mother, currently on her third marriage, and her father—last time she had heard from him he’d been dealing with yet another divorce, his second. They only got together for weddings and funerals, and there had been too many of the first and not enough of the second, in her opinion.

She tapped the light switch upon entering her home and toed off her sneakers to kick them against the wall. As she headed for the shower, she stripped off her clothing and tossed it into a nearby hamper. The condo offered laundry services, and she fully intended to take advantage of them as she always did.

Of course, some things she wouldn’t trust to the industrial-strength washers and dryers downstairs.

Like the leather corset in her duffle bag. Or the elbow-length lace-and-leather gloves that fit perfectly. The fishnet stockings.

And of course, the equipment.

There was a time when Carl had taken it on himself to clean it, to hand wash the delicate clothing and make sure the leather stayed supple and soft where it needed to be, stiff and unrelenting when it called for it.

Now she took care of it herself.

For the other intimates, there was a private dry-cleaner around the corner who didn’t ask any questions and delivered wonderful service.

The steam swirled up around her as the hot water washed off the last of Dan’s touches and heightened her annoyance with herself. She’d zoned out during their appointment, and that wasn’t good.

Zoning out itself wasn’t the problem. A good sub drifted into subspace, a good Domme into a glorious mindset where it all came together in a perfect fusion of mind and body, feeding off the gift her devoted sub gave her. Even if he was only hers for an hour or two, it was her job to be all she could be for him, to steal a popular phrase.

Flashing back to a failed relationship wasn’t acceptable.

It wasn’t professional.

It wasn’t healthy.

Dan deserved better.

She ducked her head under the spray and reached for her special shampoo before hesitating.

She shouldn’t use it, considering her failure with Dan. Her mind warred with itself, making arguments pro and con.

Pro won out. After all, he had left a tip instead of filing a complaint with Tracy.

She’d only received one complaint in her year of working for HP. A client who not only had whined about not getting his money’s worth but demanded a refund and extra for the loss of his expensive time.

He’d been stripped from her client list and, Tracy had whispered to Kate during the debriefing, dumped from the company after a second and third issue with the staff.

Kate hadn’t been his first Domme, but she’d been his last from Hooded Pleasures.

She scrubbed the peppermint-scented shampoo into her long black hair. The smell was lovely, a present to herself after every appointment.

After a good half hour of searing her skin, she stepped out and snagged a soft white robe off the waiting hook.

Another client.

What is Wendy thinking?

Kate rubbed her hair with a towel as she padded into the kitchen to select a snack. She’d eaten dinner before meeting Dan, but her stomach was growling, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep without something in her tummy.

She looked over the fast-food containers before picking out the remains of a steak burrito she’d had yesterday. All it needed was a few seconds in the microwave, and she’d be chomping down on a nice fat bundle of meat and rice.

I have a full schedule. Wendy knows that.

Tracy would have let me know if there’d been a problem with anyone else. Had there been, and she’s hiding it so Wendy can yell at me?

The inner dialogue continued on through her snack, an hour of late-night television, and followed her into bed.

Did I mess up again?

Like I did with Carl?

She forced the thought out of her mind. There was no reason to bring him into this.

No reason at all.

Kate fell into a troubled sleep, wondering how she’d managed to screw up this time.

“You got to be kidding me. A blind date?” Alex shook his head at the talking head on his computer screen. “No way.”

Mike was a good friend and a decent brother-in-law, but there was no way Alex was going to let him play matchmaker.

Hell, the guy couldn’t even make it to level ten of Skullbreaker IV.

With the cheat codes.

Mike took another sip of his soda. “I’m only trying to help you out.” He leaned back in the office chair and pointed at Alex through the screen. “You’re going to go nuts sitting there all day and night working. You need a break.”

“And going out to a club with some bimbo who only wants me to put a ring on her finger is the only option?”

“Whoa.” Mike put up his free hand. “I said nothing about bimbos. Jane and I know a lot of nice women who aren’t out to snag a husband on the first date. And who don’t want to go to clubs with a man who doesn’t dance. A nice restaurant, a nice evening out, maybe go see a movie. There’s plenty of lovely ladies out there searching for a good man.” He leaned in toward the screen. “Don’t paint them all with one brush because you had one bitch back in college bust your balls.”

“Madeline.” The name burned his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

His stomach churned as if he’d had five espressos in a row.

“She did you wrong,” Mike continued. “No one here disagrees with that. But you can’t let something that happened years ago keep you from finding happiness.”

Alex chewed his lower lip. “Yeah but—” He waved a hand at the computer monitors around him, the 3-D images swirling and dancing. “What woman is going to want to talk about computer games, much less date someone who helps make them?”

“Are you kidding me? You know well enough there’s plenty of women playing games online. The geek force demands it. And there’s plenty who would find coding damned sexy, or so I’ve been told by your sister. Not to mention you’ve been running your own business for years and rank right up there with the best when it comes to freelance programmers.” Mike pressed on. “But you won’t find anyone by sitting in your house all day. You’ve got to get out, find others who think the way you do.”

“And that’s by letting you two set me up?”

“You won’t know what you like until you try it,” Mike replied. “You’d be surprised at how interesting some of Jane’s friends might be. They’re into a whole lot of different things.”

Alex glanced to one side where a stack of books sat, the pages well-worn and creased with use.

I doubt they’re into my “different things.”

He chewed on his bottom lip again.

It wasn’t the right time to tell Mike.

It probably would never be.

Jane was a great sister and Mike a fantastic brother-in-law. But for all they shared in their lives, there were definitely some things Alex wanted to keep private.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find the right woman in time, I haven’t given up. But I want to find her on my own, not through friends setting me up on blind dates.” He smiled. “Nothing personal.”

Mike laughed. “I get what you’re saying. I told Jane you wouldn’t go for it, but you know her—gets an idea in her mind, and she’s like a dog with a bone. She just wants her little brother to be happy.”

“I love my sister, but tell her to butt out,” Alex said, grinning. “I’ll find someone on my own.” He looked at the digital clock at the bottom of the screen. “And I have to get back to work. We’re on deadline for Mercy Killer VIII.”

“Ooh.” Mike whistled. “Can’t wait. Be sure to send me a promo copy, ’kay?”

Alex nodded and waved good-bye before cutting the connection.

He waited until Mike’s image had faded fully from the screen before picking up one of the tattered books. The cover image was clear about giving clues as to the content, the leather collar prominently displayed on a field of black.

Alex swallowed, thinking of the application he’d filed a few weeks ago. He had been told he’d hear back this weekend regarding his inquiry.

He wasn’t sure what they were looking for but he knew what he needed.

The question hung in the back of his mind.

Am I really a submissive?

Or am I just playing a game with myself?

Alex fumbled through the book, finding the passages he’d marked with yellow highlighter. The sensual passages leaped off the page, sending a warm flush through his body at the vivid descriptions.

He bit his lower lip, resisting the urge to touch himself. It’d become a welcome habit, reading the erotica before going to bed and dreaming of being tied up, at the total mercy of a woman who would use and abuse him as she saw fit.

But that wasn’t what he was.

Was it?

He scanned the pages again, ignoring the sex scenes. He focused in on the descriptions of the men, their personalities and dialogue building the mental picture for him.

I’m not like these men, scraping and whimpering for attention, desperate for a woman’s touch.

I like being in charge. I built my business from scratch, I dictate my own terms of employment, and I’ve walked away from deals that didn’t work for me.

I can have any woman I want.

I’m an Alpha male.

Are you now? his inner voice barked. Then why do you love reading about letting go, letting someone else have the reins? Taking total control away from you? About handing yourself over to a woman and letting her do what she wishes with you?

He answered himself, closing the book with a snap.

Because there’s a void in my perfect Alpha male life.

I need to make my life complete, and this is it.

But I’m not sure.

And there’s only one way to find out.

Alex shifted, aroused by simply skimming the familiar chapters. It never failed to turn him on, making him want to find out his true nature even more.

None of that. You’ve got work to do.

He looked at the clock. Well past midnight, and he had another thousand lines of code to work on before going to sleep.

Putting the book to the side, he cracked his knuckles and pulled up the proper screen.

All work and no play—

The company’s office was set in downtown Toronto, taking up a whole floor in a very expensive building full of people who never would have guessed the listing of “HP” on the directory stood for Hooded Pleasures. Security at the front desk had strict instructions that any visitors had to be approved before going up to the offices, the same as many other businesses.

Kate tapped the ID card clipped to her belt and nodded to the guard as she walked by, heading for the elevators. She’d worn a simple T-shirt and jeans for this meeting, her leather jacket enough to keep the cool autumn weather at bay.

The middle-aged man didn’t say anything, but he glanced down at a clipboard on the desk before returning her greeting.

Guess I’m not on the banned list. Yet.

It was a short ride up to the fifth floor, the doors sliding open to admit her to what at first looked like a generic office space awaiting new residents.

There was no neon logo flashing the company name, no business cards on display, nothing to signal what HP was all about.

Which was exactly the way Wendy and Evan had designed it.

Kate turned to her left and headed down to the lone desk, smiling as she spotted Candy, the receptionist.

Behind the smooth smile, Candy was a black belt martial artist who drew a paycheck not only to watch the switchboard but also to keep the peace both inside and outside the offices. She helped keep the façade up and would expertly dispatch any curious wanderers with a smile and a gentle push back toward the elevator.

“Wendy is waiting for you.” The redhead nodded toward the door on her left. “Third door down the hall.” She resumed her reading of the latest issue of Mercs for Hire.

Kate walked through and heard the door lock behind her as she headed down the hall.

The majority of the rooms were for meetings with clients and prospective clients. At times, Hooded Pleasures ran training seminars offered free of charge for those Dommes wanting to take their skills to the next level.

It went without saying that all were soundproofed.

The third unmarked door led into a boardroom, the rosewood circular table stretching almost the length of the room. The plush leather chairs circled it like guards protecting the queen who sat at the opposite end.

Wendy McMaster stood up with a smile. “Kate.”

She wore her usual power suit—black and tailored to her body perfectly. Given Wendy was a plus-sized lady, it was a wonderful fit and flattering. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she looked every inch the professional.

Her gentle smile belied a spine of steel, a plus in any business.

She took Kate’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Come on, sit down. I’ve already ordered coffee.”

Kate sat down beside her, sliding into the leather with an audible sigh. “I love these chairs.”

“Aren’t they the best?” Wendy ran her hand over the polished wood. “I schedule more meetings than I should in here just to enjoy myself.”

The door opened to admit a young man, no more than twenty, wearing only a black leather collar and black silk boxers. He held a tray in one hand and kept his gaze on the floor.

“Peter. Come in.” Wendy waved him onward. “Milk and sugar for both of us, correct?” She looked at Kate for confirmation.

Kate nodded.

Peter moved to the far end of the table and busied himself with making two cups, handling the delicate china with care. The silver set was polished to a bright shine that kept catching Kate’s attention along with the well-tanned man working with it.

“We have a new client.” Wendy slid the folder over to her. “A newcomer to the scene. I’d like you to take him in hand, so to speak.”

She opened the folder and looked at the photograph clipped to the front page.

Early thirties, dark short hair, a devilish smile.

Cute guy.

Kate forced her mind back into professional mode and looked over the pertinent details on the questionnaire.

Freelance programmer, specializing in online games. Came from money but worked hard to build his reputation and now in demand for his skills by a handful of major game manufacturers.

Interesting.

Kate hid her smile as Peter advanced on Wendy, holding the cup in both hands. He knelt down on one knee and offered it to her, eyes down.

“Thank you.” Wendy took the cup.

He returned to the far end of the table to retrieve Kate’s coffee and came back to assume the same position in front of her.

She watched him carefully, noting the way his hands began to tremble the longer she waited.

Kate looked at Wendy, waiting for her permission to take the coffee.

It was her scene, not Kate’s.

Wendy smiled and nodded.

“Thank you.” Kate took the china cup from the waiting man.

Peter let out a ragged sigh and returned to Wendy’s side. He knelt on the floor at her feet, eyes down.

She reached down and tugged at the metal ring at the front of the leather collar. “Well done. Now go, dump the coffee and clean the coffee set with the toothbrush I placed by the silver cleaner. I want to be able to see my reflection when you finish.”

Peter got to his feet. He bowed politely at Kate before retrieving the tray and leaving the room.

Wendy looked after the young man with a wistful sigh. “I’d keep him here and let us both have some fun with him, but I don’t like discussing clients in front of other clients.”

“I didn’t know you had some in-house,” Kate said.

“I usually don’t. But Peter is a friend of a friend, and I said I’d bring him in for a little training. He’s a fast learner—only a few disciplinary incidents, and I’m not sure if he didn’t misbehave on purpose to see what we’d do to him.” She smiled. “Love the young ones. So much easier to train. Anyway, back to our new client.” She reached over and tapped the file. “Alex Hanson. Read the books, watched the movies, and now wants to know what it feels like.” She paused. “Another curious one.”

“Another poser.” Kate frowned. “I’m tired of them. Suddenly it’s become chic to get into this, and it’s not—” She paused at Wendy’s upraised palm.

“You, me and everyone else in the lifestyle, trust me. I’ve bounced more than a few applications when we check into their references and it looks and smells odd. I don’t need any journalists exposing our clients to public scrutiny, and Evan doesn’t need to bail me out of jail after I slug a few of them for writing crap about us.” She tapped the file. “He’s passed through the preliminary checks. No news connections, nothing setting off alarms.”

Kate couldn’t help scowling. “Doesn’t mean he’s serious.”

“We were all new once, Kate.” Wendy ran her hand along the leather armrest. “We all started from the same place without anything more than a desire, a bit of research and a whole lot of curiosity.”

“True,” Kate conceded. “I’m just apprehensive about newcomers, I guess.”

“Tell me about it. Right now, it takes six weeks to get through our system and be accepted. There was a time when it was only four.” Wendy took another sip of coffee before continuing. “You’re a ‘light’ Domme, if I recall your preferences correctly. No shibari, no branding and so forth. Correct?”

Kate felt her cheeks burn.

Wendy shook her head. “I’m not judging you, believe me. Nothing wrong with what you do or what you like. It’s actually a fine fit for us to have a Domme who can play with the new kids without scaring them. I consider it a plus, not a minus.” She gestured at the file. “Especially when someone wants to see if it’s right for him. He doesn’t need a hard hand, not at least to begin with.”

Kate studied the photograph.

Definitely cute.

Kate looked up to see Wendy watching her.

She pushed the file away. “Why me?” Kate asked. “I’ve got a full schedule as it is. It’s not fair to my other—”

“Fair to Dan?”

That stopped her cold. Kate licked her lips, unsure of how to proceed.

“No, he didn’t complain. He wouldn’t. But Tracy picked up on your tone when she called you. You sounded wrong, out of sorts.” She frowned. “Are you burning out?”

Kate shrugged.

Wendy waited. She took another sip of coffee, her long slender fingers caressing the fine china.

Kate sighed. She knew better than to try to lie to Wendy. In this business, maybe more than any other, honesty was vital.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She drank some coffee to delay more of an answer. “I zoned out for a minute or two while working with Dan. He never caught on, thank goodness.”

For a second, she flashed back to her good Catholic schoolgirl days and babbling her sins to Father Murphy.

Except she wasn’t going to get out of this one by murmuring a few Hail Marys.

“Let me guess. Carl?” Wendy sat back in the chair. “Am I right?”

Kate felt her chest tighten.

“You know it wasn’t your fault.”

She couldn’t breathe.

Wendy pointed at Kate’s coffee cup. “Drink something before you faint. I’m not going to have Peter come in here to drag you out by the elevators for the paramedics.” She huffed. “Not going to have them poking around my offices, thank you very much.”

Kate picked up the delicate china.

“I know the power of memories.” Wendy lowered her voice. “They can fuck you up something awful.”

Kate choked on the coffee. She’d only heard a handful of swear words from Wendy in their time together.

“When I offered you this job a year ago, it came with the promise you would be able to do what you like, what you love without any emotional attachments. That’s what you wanted, what you needed back then.” She reached out and squeezed Kate’s hand. “You’re a good Domme. An excellent one. And a good woman. You deserve happiness. Don’t let this one stumble define you.” She scowled. “The fault lies in Carl and the decision he made.”

Kate nodded. She didn’t know what to say, what argument to make to counter Wendy’s faith in her.

If she was a good Domme, she wouldn’t have failed Carl.

Or let Dan down.

“Don’t do that,” Wendy warned. “I can see what you’re thinking.”

No you can’t, Kate’s inner voice screamed. You can’t know how afraid I am that you’ll fire me.

“Don’t worry.” Wendy took another sip. “I’m not going to fire you. It happens to all of us at times—your mind ducks out of the scene, and it takes a few minutes to bring it back.” She eyed Kate. “But you know that. You spent enough time at the club, you know how your mind works.”

The words scalded Kate’s soul. She nodded, staying quiet.

“You know you aren’t banned from Boots ’n’ Chains,” Wendy said softly. “You can come back anytime. Matthew made it quite clear. Anyone opens their mouth and—” She snapped her fingers.

“I know.” Kate waved her hand in the air. “I’m still too burned out to go to the club and look around. With Dan, it was just a case of getting tired, letting the mind go wandering instead of focusing on the task at hand.” Kate pushed the empty coffee cup across the polished wood. “It happens. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of employees with the same issue.”

“Yes, we have.” Wendy nodded, rolling with Kate’s change of topic. “It’s a vocational danger.” She swept one arm at the walls. “People come and people go. No one stays here forever.”

“You do. And Evan.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it.

Wendy smiled. “But we own Hooded Pleasures. Not the same thing, hmm?” She put her cup down, carefully positioning it on the saucer. “People burn out all the time here. Employees and clients. Employees burn out because they don’t have the ability to stay disconnected from their clients, keep that emotional space between them. Clients decide they want a change, so they ask for another man or woman and/or get the nerve up to go to a club and seek out a more personal commitment. Some people come in for something, find it and leave. Some stay out of fear there’s no other place for them to go. Nothing in this business lasts forever.”

“Love does.” The words were out before she realized what she was saying.

Wendy arched an eyebrow. “Yes, it does. And those are very deep thoughts for so early in the morning.” She rotated the cup a fraction of an inch, lining the handle up with the delicate brushstrokes on the saucer. “I want you to assess Alex before adding him to your portfolio. He’s done the questionnaire and cleared our investigations. The next step is an interview here in the office, where you can decide if you can work with him. He clears that, and we schedule your first appointment at his house. You’ve done this before, nothing new.”

Kate touched the glossy photo again. “If I’m burning out, why do you want me to interview him? Wouldn’t it be better to fire me and be done with it? What makes you think seeing a new client is going to make a difference?”

Now it was Wendy’s turn to shrug. “I’m a kind and generous woman. Not to mention I hate the word ‘fire.’ Maybe you need a breath of fresh air, a new challenge.”

“Fresh air?” Kate repeated. “Have you been reading those psychology magazines again?”

Wendy laughed. “Everyone needs a bit of a shake-up in their lives now and then. If you were a sub, I’d give you to Evan for a few sessions, let him clear your mind. Since you’re not, I’ve decided to try something else. I’ve already sent a note over to Dan. I asked him if he’d allow Lydia to visit him and see if he’d approve. Give him a bit of a change, and she’s in the market for a new client. If he likes her, it works out well for all involved.”

Except for me.

“So, you are punishing me.” Kate sighed.

“No,” Wendy said. “There’s no one else who I feel is right for this fellow. In my opinion, he’s looking for a gentle but firm hand, and I trust you to do what’s right for him. If he’s a poser, you toss his ass—if he’s a natural sub, you smack it. I’m pulling Dan because I need you focused on Alex Hanson. No distractions.” She reached over and tapped the folder. “Let me have him come in for an appointment, and you check him out. See if he’s seriously interested in pushing his limits or just blowing smoke from all the smut he’s been reading.”

“Okay.” Kate closed the folder. “But no promises. I reserve the right to toss him back if I don’t want him.”

“As with all your clients.” Wendy smiled. “You know it’s in the agreement you signed with us. If it doesn’t work out with him, I’ll find someone else and give you another client. It’ll all even out in the end. Okay?”

“Yes,” Kate admitted.

“Tracy will call when she’s got the appointment arranged.” Wendy gestured toward the door. “Thank you for coming in. I hope we can make things work out for all of us.”

Kate stood up, accepting the dismissal.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Kate,” Wendy said as Kate walked out. “You don’t deserve it.”

Yes, I do.

“Look, I don’t care what you think your players are going to do. I’m telling you the experienced players are going to figure out how to exploit that bug and keep pillaging that chest for the extra weapons and gold. It’ll unbalance the economy and screw up the game. Let me patch it up, and you’ll be fine. A few hours of coding, and I can—”

Alex paced around his living room as the voice on the other end of his phone babbled on.

He gritted his teeth. “Yes, I realize that it’s your in-house programming staff that created it and they should know what they’re doing. I’m only the expensive freelancer you’re bringing in to complete the new expansion on time. It’s your call. But don’t be surprised when it all comes down on your head. I know what I’m doing, and I know what’s going to happen.”

The phone beeped to signal an incoming call.

His heart raced as he recognized the number.

“I’ve got to go. But the longer you wait for this fix, the more it’s going to cost you. Good-bye.” He tapped the button to transfer away from the business call, not waiting for the response.

He had more important things to deal with.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Hanson?”

“Yes?” He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“This is Hooded Pleasures. We’d like you to come to our office for a final interview. When might you be available?” The smooth voice caressed his jangled nerves.

What the hell?

He tamped down the surge of annoyance at yet another barrier being tossed in his way.

“You have to understand that I’m a very busy man. I thought I’d passed all your checks—”

“And we appreciate your patience with the process and apologize for the time it’s taken. You will be interviewing your prospective Domme. We want to make sure you’re compatible in every way before she begins her home visits.”

A flash of heat shot down his spine, pooling in his groin. “Interview? But I thought—”

“We wouldn’t assign just anyone to you, Mr. Hanson.” The soothing voice continued to purr. “I promise you that this is the last step in our process.”

Alex forced himself to calm down, put his temper in check. “I understand.” He’d already gotten the notifications from his computer alerting him to their checks on his financial status, his personal references and his work status. It was hidden under the guise of a security clearance for a possible freelance job, but he knew they were the ones asking for information.

He couldn’t blame them. He might be new to all this, but it didn’t take a genius to see there’d be a lot of people interested in Hooded Pleasures’ clientele for all the wrong reasons.

Same with the clubs.

Boots ’n’ Chains was the closest one to him, and they had the same in-depth security check.

He’d applied and passed their inspection, paid the membership fees, but hadn’t had the nerve to actually go to the club, even on their new members’ night. Every time he thought about it, his stomach twisted into nervous knots at somehow being caught out as a poser, a faker who wasn’t really into the scene.

He couldn’t go.

Not yet.

Not until he was sure this was right for him.

And this was the only way he could find out.

He snapped out of his reverie as the woman kept talking.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“You work weekends?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “I mean, for interviews?”

The woman laughed. “We adjust our schedules to the needs of our clients, Mr. Hanson. If tomorrow won’t work for you—”

“No, it’s fine. I can fit an appointment in tomorrow afternoon.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was arranging an interview with a Dominatrix.

He must be losing his mind.

“Is two o’clock a good time?”

“I can clear my timetable for that. For this,” Alex replied.

He never scheduled anything for the weekends.

“Tomorrow it is, then. Sunday afternoon at two o’clock. We’ll send you an email confirming the appointment and the address. Please don’t be late. Kate will be looking forward to seeing you. Thank you.” The woman hung up before Alex could respond.

“Kate.” Alex stared at the phone. “Her name is Kate.” He licked his lips as if tasting the letters.

“Kate.”

She’d stopped on the way home for brunch, stuffing herself on eggs and bacon in an attempt to quell her nervousness. When that failed to stop her mind from churning, she went to the Royal Ontario Museum and wandered among the dinosaurs, letting the familiar exhibits soothe her troubled thoughts.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t interviewed prospective clients before. Almost all her customers had been new with only two being “hand-me-downs” from other Dommes who had left or who had requested a transfer for some reason.

But this one coming so soon after her recent issue with Dan—it felt different.

Kate wasn’t sure if she was the one being tested, not this Alex.

Her wanderlust brought her home late in the afternoon. It also brought a handful of new paperback books, a box of freshly baked chocolate cookies from the local bakery and a package of plastic dinosaurs from the museum’s gift shop.

Nervousness tended to cost her a lot.

After making a cup of green tea, she settled on the couch and picked up the nearby sketchpad.

Kate traded it for the television remote a few seconds later.

The sketchbook lay forgotten in her lap as she flipped through the television channels, searching for some reason to avoid thinking too much. She had to get down to doing some drawing but needed to settle her mind before starting.

The image resolved to show a man falling off his bike repeatedly, most likely drunk.

Perfect.

A program showing various dumb criminals caught on surveillance tape, either through security cameras or, better yet, documenting their own crimes with their cell phones.

She couldn’t ask for better blind-mind entertainment.

“Idiots.” She picked up the pencil and began to draw, her attention caught between the two worlds.

The dark strokes formed into a rogue, crouching as she checked a sack for whatever she’d purloined from a nearby merchant. A few lines added long hair draped over one shoulder, the tattered clothing detailing how she’d started off at a much higher social position and slipped down to the point that she was stealing. It was a good first draft, and she knew it was working, the magic meshing to create something she’d be proud to put her name on.

It was a commission from one of her many fans. Since she’d started posting her art in an online art community, she’d not only gotten rave reviews but also requests for personalized pictures.

She didn’t need the money. Between her trust fund and HP, she was quite comfortable.

But she loved creating, and she wasn’t going to give it away for free. So she charged reasonable rates and did what she loved.

Her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up and read the short text message.

Alex Hanson had agreed to an appointment at the office tomorrow.

She tapped her code in to acknowledge she’d received the information and returned to her sketch.

The rogue stared at her, frozen in place.

Kate chewed on the edge of the pencil, unable to beat down the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that this might be the last interview she did.

Burned out? How can I be burned out? I’ve only been doing this for a year. Five clients, hardly a major workload.

If she left HP, her lifestyle would take a knock, but it wouldn’t be much of a setback. Maybe she’d have to order less take-out and actually buy groceries.

It wasn’t like she was spending money on a relationship.

A mental image of Carl flashed across her mind’s eye.

Hope she’s taking care of you, you bastard. Not.

Her pencil drew a jagged edge across the rogue’s face, the angry scar so deep, it almost ripped the page.

She threw her sketchpad onto the table and headed for the computer desk.

Wonderful. He’s still fucking with my mind months after the fact.

A year, sweetie, her inner voice snapped. A whole year since you saw him at the club with Lily. The way they were acting told you this wasn’t a new relationship and you’d been blind, totally blind to what had to have been going on under your very nose.

Mortified didn’t begin to cover the embarrassment she’d felt, the feeling everyone was watching her, studying her.

Pitying the Domme who had lost her submissive to another woman.

Kate let her breath out slowly, trying to ignore the growing anxiety attack. The pain in her chest lessened as she forced herself to relax.

Her gaze wandered to the waiting computer.

Maybe a few hours of hacking and slashing would help her calm down.

She grinned and tapped the keyboard to open up the program and connect with the server.

A few minutes later, she settled into the chair, chuckling as she watched a bunch of new players race toward certain doom. They were headed for an area far above their battle capability and definitely outside their expertise. She’d been polite and warned them, but one wizard had scoffed at taking advice from a ten-foot-tall female ogre warrior.

They’d learn soon enough.

She headed for the caves and her usual hunting grounds.

“Damnit.” Alex banged his fingers on the keyboard, deleting lines of code.

The cursor ran along the bottom of the screen, eating up numbers and letters with a zealous appetite, devouring a good hour’s worth of work.

“Crap. Crappity crap crap.”

He looked at the clock. It was 10:14 p.m.

Fourteen hours until his appointment.

His attention wandered off the screen to the stack of books, well-thumbed pages warping the glossy covers. His ebook reader sat there as well with bookmarked pages available at a finger’s touch.

Alex shifted in the chair, trying not to think about what he was about to get into. He’d used up almost all his resolve to pick up the phone and call a few weeks ago, tapping in the number he’d found only through some online sleuthing.

Hooded Pleasures.

Based on the initial conversation, he thought he’d called some secret government agency, the receptionist interrogating him as to where he’d found their number and what he thought they were all about, blah blah blah. And then the follow-up call and the paper forms arriving via courier, swearing him to secrecy and demanding so much information. He thought he might be signing up for a one-way mission to Mars.

It’d been more intrusive than getting a membership to the club, and there had been a moment filling out the forms when he’d hesitated, perched on the edge and about to back away from having someone come to his house.

His inner voice berated him for his lack of nerve, as well as his rather illogical reasoning.

He couldn’t handle going to the club, but he could handle a woman entering his personal space? Coming to where he lived, where he worked?

Coming to dominate him.

He’d caught himself one last time before signing the last page, wondering if the risk was worth it.

And yet—

He glanced sideways at the books.

I want this.

I need this.

I need to know who I am.

Alex shifted again in the chair and wondered if a cold shower might be the answer.

Or more reading. Research.

His right hand moved into his lap, dangerously close to its goal. He scratched the rough fabric and considered taking matters into his own hands.

Or hand, as it were.

It’d calm him down, that much was for certain.

No.

Restraint.

Discipline.

He grunted and put his hand back on the keyboard.

If I’m going to start somewhere, might as well be here and now.

There was enough to do here, a few more hours of coding before he could sleep, eat, shower and prepare for his appointment. No time for indulging himself.

Not when he was going to meet the real deal soon enough.

Kate stopped at a small café for breakfast, mentally preparing for the upcoming meeting.

Alex thought he’d be interviewing her.

It was really the other way around. She would be poking around his psyche, looking for signs that he wasn’t truly a sub, that he was a Dom in disguise. He might not know it himself, but this interview would let them both know where he stood.

Or knelt, if she had her way.

If he wasn’t a true submissive, it wouldn’t be a problem. She’d terminate the interview and Wendy would take over. She’d gently maneuver Alex toward the door with recommendations for a private club and inform him that HP wasn’t going to be able to give him what he wanted. A smart man would figure it out fast enough.

Hooded Pleasures didn’t supply submissives. There was too much of a chance for abuse, too much opportunity for someone to be taken advantage of.

They also supplied male Doms for those women who couldn’t or wouldn’t go to a club, caught in the same issues and problems as the men she dealt with.

Equal strokes for equal folks.

The company’s rules tried to cover all possibilities.

Alex would come in and see if he was truly a sub and if he was ready to take his desires to the next level.

Hopefully with Kate.

She nodded at the waitress as the pastry was placed in front of her, steam still rising from the warm roll.

Kate tore a thick piece off the freshly baked croissant and nibbled on it, savoring the buttery taste.

None of her present clientele had refused her.

Mentally, she brought up the image of Alex Hanson, game programmer and fellow geek.

That puckish smile had her grinning as she sipped her coffee.

He’d take her on. She knew it.

In the end, it did come down to Alex’s decision, his veto if he decided he didn’t like Kate.

That was the way it had to be, really. The power lay with him, and it had to be his choice.

If not, Wendy would give him to another Domme. But Kate knew she wouldn’t have paired Alex with Kate if she didn’t think there would be something clicking between them.

Kate popped the last of the croissant in her mouth and felt the thin layers melt on her tongue.

There was only one way to find out.

She finished her coffee and gestured for the bill.

Alex nodded at the cab driver as he paid the man and got out. “Fine. Just remember I warned you.” He turned the phone off and stuffed it in a pocket of his jacket before looking around.

Downtown was downtown, no matter what city you were in. Plenty of tall office buildings filling the streets with character, the eye-catching architecture calling you in. Some others were lonely obelisks stabbing the sky.

All holding secrets.

Except this one seemed to hold more than the usual.

He walked through the door, noting the keen eye of the security guard on him.

No slouching mall cop here.

He strode up to the desk. “My name is Alex Hanson. I have a special appointment on the fifth floor.” He used the exact words as instructed to do in the email. Alex couldn’t blame them for trying to be subtle about their company and what it offered. He was sure the guard didn’t know what went on at HP or what the fifth floor contained—and that was just fine with both of them.

“Personal ID please.”

The security guard checked Alex’s driver’s license and scanned his clipboard. He drew a line through Alex’s name before sliding a visitor’s pass across the desktop. “Keep that visible at all times.”

“Thank you.” Alex clipped it to his left lapel.

“Only good for the fifth floor. Please don’t go anywhere else.” The guard jabbed a thumb at the elevators. “Have a nice day.”

The ride was only a few seconds, but it seemed like he was walking into a whole new world, his mind spinning with the reality of what he was about to do.

Alex stepped off the elevator. There was no choice of which direction to go. The lone reception desk at the far end of the hallway was the only thing in sight.

The redhead behind it eyed him as he approached, glancing down every few seconds to the magazine in her hand.

He could have sworn it was titled Mercs for Hire.

She put it down when he got closer and smiled. “Can I help you?”

“I have an appointment.” He tapped his visitor’s badge and straightened his tie, keeping his hands busy. “Two o’clock sharp. I’m a few minutes early. If you can fit me in—”

She cut him off. “Your name is—”

“Alex Hanson.” He glanced around as she murmured into her headset.

Framed photographs of skylines of various cities hung on the walls surrounding the reception desk, canned images he’d seen before. Two doors on each side offered entry to what he assumed was the inner sanctum of Hooded Pleasures.

He swallowed hard. The impulse to bolt was strong, the urge to run for the elevator and forget all this, forget it ever existed, almost overwhelming.

No.

You want this.

You need this.

Stay.

“Wendy will be out momentarily.” The woman smiled.

Alex looked around.

There was no place to sit, no comfortable chair for him to lounge in. Nothing but the bare wall, and he wasn’t going to slump against the wall like some slacker unable to stand on his own two feet for a few minutes.

The redhead returned to her magazine, ignoring Alex.

He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Seven minutes.

He approached the desk. “Excuse me.”

The receptionist stared at him.

Alex showed her his watch. “My appointment is for two o’clock sharp. It’s now five of two.”

She didn’t flinch from his annoyed glare.

“I don’t think you understand. My time is valuable, and I can’t waste it hanging around waiting for someone to get back from their lunch break,” Alex continued. “If there’s some sort of problem—”

The door to his left opened. A woman came out and smiled at him.

“Alex? I’m Wendy.”

He instinctively smiled back, relaxing slightly.

She stepped back and gestured him in. “Third door on the left please.” She glanced over at the receptionist as Alex moved past her. “Thanks, Candy.”

Alex walked into the hall, feeling like an insect wandering into the spider’s web. The walls were painted a neutral cream, unmarked doors lining the way.

He counted off the doors and opened the third one, not looking to see if Wendy was behind him.

The boardroom reminded him of his first and only meeting with the Alexander brothers. They’d wanted a freelance programmer for their new Brawltown expansion and asked for an appraisal. He’d delivered a fine presentation about what they needed and what he could supply at his usual rates.

Then they revealed they weren’t willing to pay what Alex wanted, but the experience of working on a popular game would give him great exposure. After all, they were a young company and they couldn’t afford his fees. Maybe if he dropped it by half—

Alex had appraised the boardroom table and furniture at over five thousand dollars, easy.

He’d walked out.

This set put that one to shame.

The slick leather chairs were soft and supple to the touch, easy to sink into. He wished he had one of these at home for those all-night sessions crouched over the keyboard. He sat down and rubbed his palm over the armrest.

Wendy stood in the doorway. “Someone will be with you in a minute. Thank you.”

Alex watched her leave, the door sliding shut with an almost silent click.

Really? I have to wait again?

He took a deep breath to calm his jangled nerves. There was nothing worse than dealing with inefficient personnel.

Maybe he could file a complaint with management for wasting his time.

Alex smiled, imagining how Hooded Pleasures would deal with bad employees. A little bondage, a little spanking. Maybe some of them did it on purpose, wanting to be caught and punished.

He frowned.

Not Candy.

She was most definitely not a submissive from the way she’d glared at him. If anything, she’d be in one of those action films, packing that huge pistol from the cover of the magazine.

Just what you wanted in a receptionist.

The analysis calmed him down, reminded him why he was here.

Okay.

Now what?

He looked around the room. No wide-screen, no phones, no filing cabinets. Nothing but a jug of water at the far end of the table and empty glasses.

At least they were crystal. Good ones, from the look of them.

Alex drummed his fingers on the desk.

He glanced at his watch. The email had made it very clear tardiness would not be tolerated.

On his part.

Obviously this type of time mismanagement was common for Hooded Pleasures.

It was now two-twenty.

Two more minutes and then—

Any thoughts of leaving vanished as the door opened.

He got to his feet automatically.

A woman walked in, carrying a file folder. She smiled at Alex and put it on the table at the far end before leaving.

The door shut behind her.

Alex sat down again, scowling.

If this is some sort of scam—

Before he could finish the thought, the door flew open and another woman entered.

He got to his feet a fraction slower than before, taken off guard by the abrupt entrance.

The brunette strolled toward him. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that curled over one shoulder. Her white blouse was crisp and pressed, as was her short black skirt.

The long black leather boots made him catch his breath. He’d always been a leg man, but this—

Her blue eyes locked with his. “Alex Hanson?”

“Yes.” He smiled and extended his hand. “You must be Kate.”

Her handshake was firm, her long, slender fingers lingering a second too long against the inside of his wrist.

“Please sit.” She gestured at his chair.

Alex sat.

Kate did not. She strolled to the far end of the table and poured two glasses of water.

He was mesmerized, watching the swish of her hips. All the questions he’d pondered asking slipped out of his mind as he imagined her in leather and lace, the archetypical Domme from his dreams.

He shifted in his chair, his cock straining against his briefs already.

This is going to be one hell of an interview.

She turned back and smiled at him. “Before we get started, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Get a better picture of who you are. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Alex replied. “What do you want to know?”

She picked up the folder and opened it, reading as she walked around the table. “You program computer games for a living and make good money doing it. You’ve worked on some of the most popular games out there. GoldHunter Online, for one.”

There was a flicker of something in her tone, something like—envy? Curiosity? Familiarity?

It came to him in a flash.

She’s a fellow gamer.

He nodded, unsure if the fact reassured him or increased his anxiety. “I work independently for a number of companies. Freelance.”

“Interesting.” She let the single word hang in the air between them.

Alex licked his lips, wondering if he’d come across her in any of his online personas.

And if she’d been half as beautiful kicking butt and taking names.

She walked behind him, moving out of sight.

“Let me be blunt, Alex. You can have any woman you want.” The words slapped him in the back of the head. “Right now, geeks are hot. You could go to any convention, announce your job and have your pick of women willing to go to bed with you, no questions asked. So why are you calling Hooded Pleasures?” She stayed invisible. “Why do you think you’re a submissive man, one who would like me to dominate you?”

The heated whisper on the back of his neck almost had him rising out of the chair to turn and face her.

But he didn’t.

Let her ask her questions. I can deal with it.

Until it’s my turn.

“Okay. Good question. I could. And I have. But after a while, it’s just sex, it’s just getting off, and I can do that with my hand and a bottle of lotion. I want more.”

Kate stepped into sight on his right side. She gripped his chin and tilted his head up to face her. “And what would that be?” She locked eyes with him. “Tell me.”

Alex blinked, his heart surging into overdrive.

“If you can’t say it—” She released him and began to turn away.

Don’t go. God, don’t leave me.

“I want to be dominated.” He spoke without censoring his thoughts, not wanting her to move an inch more. “I want a woman to make me her slave. I want to make her happy by letting her do whatever she wants to me, because that’ll make me happy. I want to worship her body and give myself totally to her to do with as she wishes, because that would give me pleasure, almost more than getting off. I want to show her I’m strong enough to be hers and endure whatever she does to me, because I love her.”

He panted, out of breath and out of words, waiting to see her reaction to his confession.

She didn’t react. She didn’t flinch or screw her face up in the disapproving stare he’d imagined any woman would make when confronted with his deepest desires.

Kate smiled.

She sat next to him and leaned in, the sudden intimacy startling him.

“Tell me, where did you learn about this from? Where did you get this idea of being a sub?” Kate whispered.

Alex felt a nervous itch run across his shoulders.

“It started back when I was in high school.” He squirmed in the expensive leather chair, unable to stay still. It was like being in a confessional. “My buddies, they had some magazines. We passed them back and forth, our own lending library.” He couldn’t help smiling at the memory. “A whole lot of girls tied up and so forth. Some spanking, a little rope play, but nothing too hardcore.” Alex laughed. “At our age, we weren’t too sure what was going on, but the magazines had hot girls, and that was enough.”

“And you liked it?” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious.

“Not all of it,” he admitted. “I liked the naked women, but I wanted to be the one who was spanked. Restrained. Tied up.” The confession lightened the weight on his chest even as he felt his cheeks begin to burn.

“I see.” She gestured him on. “And after you left school?”

“I went to college, got laid the mandatory number of times I was supposed to.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Started my own business and, yes, met women just the way you described. Took them home, had my way with them and made sure to make them breakfast in the morning before calling a cab.” He couldn’t help the note of pride in his voice. “Never left one of them wanting.”

Kate gave a slow nod.

Time for the other stuff.

“Found a few kinky women in my wanderings, but it was one-sided. Pretty mild stuff.” He shrugged. “Fuzzy handcuffs and maybe a blindfold, tie them to the bedposts. That sort of stuff. I did what they wanted, but it wasn’t working for me.”

Suddenly, the expensive leather chair was uncomfortable to sit in.

“I still got turned on, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to be the one in the cuffs, the one tied to the bed. I tried to explain it to one or two of them, but they wanted to be spanked and not return the favor. The one who did thought I was a pervert and left at three in the morning after finishing off the last of my expensive whiskey. Didn’t even leave a note.”

She didn’t say anything.

Alex shifted again in his chair.

“After that, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I threw myself into my work. I went on blind dates and picked up women at bars and screwed whoever said yes. I didn’t ask for what I wanted, because I knew I wasn’t going to get it.” The words felt harsh rolling off his tongue. “I fucked and got fucked, played by the rules and still wasn’t happy.” He pulled in the strength to say it. “I even applied to a club. A BDSM club here in town. Passed all the security checks, but I don’t have the guts to go. Sort of like going to a fitness club—you get the membership, but you don’t want anyone to see how out of shape you are, so you don’t go.”

Her silence unnerved him.

He couldn’t stop talking. It was like a cork had been pulled out of a keg of wine, the contents spilling out without any chance of keeping control.

Alex pushed his chair back and stood. “I can’t go there, not yet. Not until I know this is what I really want. I don’t want to watch, I don’t want to be one of those guys who talk the talk but don’t want to walk the walk. I don’t want to be thrown out because I’m a poser, a voyeur when that’s not what I am. Not the real me.”

He walked to the other end of the table. He picked up one of the water glasses and drained it. The cool liquid helped him focus again on where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.

“I understand.”

The soft words assuaged his soul, stopped the bleeding in his mind.

He looked back.

She eyed him for a second before switching her gaze to the still-full second glass.

Alex picked it up and went to her, leaving his drink behind. He placed it on the varnished tabletop in front of her with a nod.

Kate took a sip and let out a sigh before grinning. “Thank you. There’s nothing like ice-cold spring water.” She pointed at his vacated chair.

Alex sat back down, pleased to see her smile.

“We get a lot of newcomers like you. Going to a club is a big step, and your nervousness is very common. Aside from porn magazines, where else have you done your research?”

“Books.” He couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t fathom being able to. It was like being lassoed by Wonder Woman. “I bought some books.”

The disapproval in her eyes almost broke him.

“What books?” She motioned him on. “Titles. Authors.”

He started listing them, one at a time—counting them off on his fingers to avoid her gaze. Popular fiction titles, bestsellers he’d ordered through the online bookstores because no matter how hot they were, no matter how many book clubs bragged about them, he couldn’t find the nerve to buy them in person. Then the nonfiction titles, the hard facts displacing the myths, the reality pushing the fantasies aside.

After he finished, he dared to glance up, meet her eyes.

The approval in her eyes soothed his soul, calmed his nerves.

“You understand that fiction is fiction and fact is fact. Correct?” The gentle interrogation had a snap of concern.

“Yes.”

“We can’t promise you the same experience. I can’t promise you the same thrill as those men experienced in those books. What you’ll receive is totally yours, your own experience like no one else’s.”

The unspoken words hung in the air between them.

This is what I can give you.

If you’ll let me.

If you’re worthy of me.

“I know.” Alex drew a deep breath to steady himself. “Please understand, I’m not searching for a cheap thrill or a fast way to get my rocks off. I’m interested in the real thing and want to know what I need to do to get there.”

Kate moved behind him, out of sight. “Put your hands on the table, palms down.”

He did so in silence, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Let me make you happy.

Let me serve you.