Read House Call (Hideaway) Online

Authors: Elyse Scott

House Call (Hideaway)

BOOK: House Call (Hideaway)
ads

 

 

 

 

House Call

(Hideaway, 3)

 

 

 

By

Elyse Scott

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2013 by Elyse Scott. All rights
reserved.

 

 

Also by Elyse Scott

 

In the Custody of the Dom (Hideaway, 1)

Repeat Offender (Hideaway, 2)

House Call (Hideaway, 3)

Before we begin....

 

This is an erotic story intended for
readers of 18 years and over. It contains heavy kink including very graphic
medical play and BDSM, and may be offensive to some readers. It also includes play
reluctance, and although everything in this story is done between consenting
adults who are enjoying themselves, if you are at all uncomfortable with
reluctance, please don’t read this.

This is a work of fiction only, and in
no way do I recommend you try any of this at home! Please practice safe, sane,
and consensual sex, and do your research first.

No part of this story may be reproduced
or retrieved by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without
written permission from the author.

All characters and events in this story
are fictional, and any similarity to persons living or deceased is purely
coincidental.

Now that all that’s of the way, as we
head into the third book in the
Hideaway
series, I’d like to say thank
you so much to those of you who’ve been reading along since the beginning – I’m
so grateful for your support and reviews and kind words. Writing a book like
this is not always an easy or comfortable thing to do, and I’m especially glad
to see that some of you are becoming as fond of Sam and Master Dan as I am! I
hope you enjoy their deepening relationship in this book. And of course, a warm
welcome to new readers – I hope you enjoy it, too! Comments and constructive
feedback are welcomed at [email protected]

And
now, Sam Reilly is about to find out that she can neither run nor hide from a
very determined Dom…

It
was just after lunch when the phone rang. Sam rummaged through the pile of
papers on her desk, uncovered her cell, and frowned. The number was withheld.
Never a good sign. ‘Hello?’

‘Sam
Reilly?’

Oh
God. If ever there was a voice she couldn’t forget. Master Dan. Simultaneously
thrilled and unnerved that he was calling her for the first time, her stomach
did a flip flop, and she tried to bring her suddenly scattered thoughts
together. ‘Yes, Sir.’ Amazing how she fell right back into that.

‘You
cancelled your appointment for tonight.’

‘Yes,
I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well.’

‘You
cancelled it last week. I’ve been away, or I would’ve called you before.’

Right.
‘I’ve, uh… just been feeling out of sorts. I’m okay.’

There
was a pause. ‘Yeah… I get the feeling you’re
not
okay. Or
something’s
not. Have I done something wrong? Was our last session too much?’

‘Sir,
it’s kind of you to ask, but no, it’s not you.’ It was most definitely her,
and the way she couldn’t stop thinking about him, which
scared the hell out of her.

‘Well,
then…’

‘I’m
really sorry, but I have a work deadline and… I need to go. Sorry, Sir.
Honestly, I’m fine.’

‘Sam
– ’

‘I’m
sorry, Sir, I really have to go.’ She stabbed her finger at the ‘end call’
button, and covered her face with her hands.
Wow
, she’d handled that
badly. He was probably angry now, so even if she
wanted
to see him
again, he wouldn’t want to see her.

It
was for the best.

She
jumped as her cell rang again. A withheld number. She got up from her desk and
walked away.

*

The
rest of the afternoon was a washout. She tried to write, but kept replaying the
conversation in her mind. His genuine concern. Her clumsy brushoff. The fact
that she’d no doubt ensured that she got her wish never to see him again. The
realization brought heat to her head, a lump to her throat, and a queasy
feeling to her stomach.

She’d
really done it; severed her ties with the only man in the world who had been
able to figure out what she needed, and deliver it, with no judgment.

Fantastic.
Good job, Sam.

She
was standing out on the balcony watching the sunset when the doorbell rang. She
checked the peephole, and took an involuntary step back. Hope and dread coursed
through her with equal force.

She
jumped when he knocked. She took the chain off the door, and opened it.

And
there he was, all tall, dark, and radiating intensity. In his blue flannel
shirt and black jeans, he wasn’t exactly dressed for work, but she’d never seen
him
not
look every inch of the Dom he was. A backpack strap emphasized
the width of his shoulders. At his feet was a full bag of groceries. He looked
amazing, and she tried not to think about the fact that she was wearing
comfortable writing clothes; a ratty Springsteen t-shirt and baggy cargo
shorts. Her feet were bare.

She
fought the urge to slam the door shut. ‘Master Dan.’ A movement on the floor
caught her eye, and she saw that the steel toe of his heavy black motorcycle
boot was solidly planted across the threshold. Shutting the door not an option,
then. She lifted her eyes to his, and saw just enough amusement there to know
he was well aware of what he was doing.

‘Psychic,
much, Sir?’ she said, putting off the inevitable as long as possible.

His
smile faded rapidly. ‘I don’t need to be psychic. You made, and then cancelled,
an appointment. You prevaricated on the phone. You didn’t invite me here, and
it’s clear you’re now hoping I’ll go away as soon as possible, so… something is
obviously wrong, and I wish you’d tell me what it is, and give me a chance to
make it right.’

‘Nothing’s
wrong. I’ve just been really busy. I made the appointment in a moment of
weakness, and then realized I didn’t have time, and I didn’t feel well anyway
–’ she began, apparently not yet out of lame excuses.

‘What
do you mean,
a moment of weakness?
’ he said, gently.

 There
was no good answer to that.

‘May
I come in?’ he said.

Before
she could think of a polite way to refuse, he added, ‘Please?’ and she was
undone.

She
stood aside, and he picked up the shopping bag at his feet and stepped into the
living room. She shut the door.

‘I
don’t make a habit of showing up at my clients’ homes,’ he said, setting his
backpack down. ‘In fact, I’ve
never
done it before.’

Whatever
he was about to say, she didn’t want to hear it. It would only pull her in
deeper, when she had to get
out
. She opened her mouth to speak, but he
held up a hand to silence her. She grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand back
down. If she hadn’t been so angry, she probably would have laughed at the shock
on his face. ‘Don’t you try to silence me!’

His
eyes flashed, but he didn’t explode, as she was afraid he might. The shock of
her outburst left him looking more confused than angry.

‘I’m
not trying to silence you, Sam. Quite the opposite.’

‘I’m
really sorry, Sir, but like I said, I’ve got a deadline, and I’m not feeling
well –’

‘You
don’t have to call me ‘Sir’. We’re not at The Hideaway.’

‘Okay…
Dan.’ It felt incredibly strange to call him that, like he was just a regular,
normal guy, and not someone who’d taken her apart physically and emotionally,
and made her feel safer than she could ever remember feeling as an adult.

He
gave a crooked smile. ‘Formalities aside, I do still expect you to be honest
with me.’

‘Yes,
Sir.’ The words spilled out automatically.

He
leaned back and looked down at her curiously, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
‘You really are more comfortable calling me ‘Sir’, aren’t you?’

She
smiled. ‘I guess I am.’ She looked anywhere but into his eyes. ‘I know plenty
of guys, but there’s only one ‘Sir’ in my life.’ Alarm bells rang as the thin
ice she was on suddenly started to crack.

Meanwhile,
his whole face lit up with his grin. ‘I’m glad.’ He put a strong hand on each
of her shoulders, and steered her so that her back thumped into the wall next to
the open doorway, just hard enough to knock the wind out of her slightly. ‘Do
you need me to be your Dom tonight? Is that what you’d prefer?’ He put a couple
of fingers under her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. ‘Because you know
what that means. Mind and body, you’ll do as I say, or safeword.’

Yes.
She swallowed. ‘I think so, Sir.’ She
thought
so. As though she hadn’t
been longing for this to happen again, even as she’d resolved never to go to
back to The Hideaway, to put a stop to her feelings for him right the hell now.

‘You
think
so? You don’t sound very sure.’

‘I’m
sure. I just wasn’t… I wasn’t prepared…for this.’

He
nodded. ‘I know. I arrived out of the blue and put you on the spot, and that wasn’t
entirely fair, was it?’ His right hand dropped down and pressed firmly over her
heart, where he could no doubt feel it trying to escape her chest. His eyes
came back up to meet hers. ‘Is that fright, or excitement?’ When she hesitated,
he went on, ‘I thought you and I had made some real headway in the trust area
last time.’

She
nodded. ‘Like you said, you’ve caught me a little off guard today.’

‘I
realize that, but you’re still not answering the question, and you’re
persistently avoiding eye contact.’ He tipped her chin up. ‘What are you not
telling me?’

‘Nothing
I want to share, Sir.’

His
gaze bored into her. A small dent appeared above his eyebrow. Shit.

His
right hand pushed up under her bangs and pressed gently against her forehead.
His left hand remained clamped on her right shoulder, keeping her from pulling
away.

Her
body’s reaction was instant, powerful, embarrassing, and she wasn’t giving in
to it.

‘You
feel warm.’

‘Yeah…
well.’
Nice comeback, Sam.
‘I’m annoyed.’

‘Because
I’m here?’ He smiled slightly. ‘Because I’ve got you backed against a wall?’

Because
you made me like you too much.
She tried to shake her
head, but his hand was still pressing against it. ‘It’s complicated.’ And
embarrassing. How many misguided subs must have fallen for him over the years?
She had to keep reminding herself that this was a
job
to him. He was
paid
to give people the kind of experience they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, get from a
lover.

She
put her hands on his chest and gave him a shove that was forceful enough to let
him know she meant it. He released her and stepped back. He put his backpack
down on the end table, unzipped it, and began taking out equipment.

‘What
are you doing?’ she said, goosebumps chasing up her spine.

‘Since
I’m here, and you say you’re not feeling well, I’m going to examine you, and
then I’m going to make you soup,’ he said. ‘Unless you don’t want me to.’

‘Examination,
no. Soup, yes.’

‘Not
too sick to make a joke, huh?’ he said.

‘Not
joking.’

Something
in his expression shifted, and for a second she could almost feel his long,
thick cock sliding into her, so slowly.

He
noticed. Of course.

‘I’m
not going to force you to do anything, Sam. We’re in your home, and I
understand you may be feeling more vulnerable here. I just want to help you
feel better. Okay?’

She
found herself nodding.
You can force me if you want to
.

Goddammit,
that was the kind of thinking that got her into this mess in the first place.

He
gathered up the grocery bags, and headed to the kitchen.

She
tried to clear a space on the counter where he could put the bags down, but
nerves made her clumsy, and she knocked over a row of beautiful cookbooks that
she loved to thumb through, but had never actually used. His hand shot out in
the nick of time to stop them falling to the floor.

‘Good
reflexes, Sir.’

He
grinned. ‘It helps, in my line of work.’

She
was struck by an almost palpable memory of many strong hands on her,
restraining her at his command. Of him pulling on a pair of latex gloves,
speaking to her in a low, commanding tone so that he could give her what she
craved so deeply and shamefully, she hadn’t even been able to ask for it. He
gave her what she’d never had with anyone else. The freedom to be
all
of
who she was, and where she had expected to find shock and judgment, he showed
her only acceptance and encouragement.

He
began unpacking. She could hardly believe her eyes.

‘Fresh
bread,’ he said. ‘Water. Ginger ale. Milk. Honey. Fresh lemons. Chicken. Veggies,
garlic, stock cubes. Noodles… I’m making you my grandmother’s soup, by the
way.’ He carried on unloading the groceries, asking her where to put things
away. He took something out of a box, and put it in the freezer.

She
began to relax as he puttered about. It was nice to have him in her kitchen.
Finally, though, he was finished in there, and his eyes were back on her.

He
half-filled a glass with water, and set it in front of her. ‘Drink.’

She
sipped, and put it down. He picked it back up, and handed it to her.

‘A
little more.’

‘I’m
not thirsty.’

‘You
will be. Five more sips.’

She
humored him, and he smiled. ‘Good girl.’

Something
in her gut responded to the words, and she smiled. Only he could get away with speaking
to her like that. Only he could make her
like
it. Come to think of it,
there were a
lot
of things she would only take, or want, from him.

‘Stand
up.’

She
stood. His hands moved swiftly to the buttons on her shorts, popping them all
undone. She backed up, grabbing her shorts before they fell down.

‘Whoa,’
she said. ‘What’re you doing?’

His
head tilted adorably to the side. ‘Do you really feel unwell?’

‘I…
No.’ Guilt and embarrassment brought a hot blush to her cheeks.

‘So
you admit you lied.’

‘Yes,
but –’

He
pointed to the spot where she had just been standing. ‘Come back here.’

No
good could come of that. She retreated a few more steps, and then he began to
follow.

‘Are
you having your period?’

She
blushed. ‘That’s none of your business.’

His
eyes bored into her. ‘Tonight, it is. Answer the question.’

Fine.
‘No. I am not having my period. If I was, you’d know because I would’ve thrown
you out the door the first time you annoyed me tonight.’

ADS
15.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
READ BOOK DOWNLOAD BOOK

Other books

The Undead Situation by Eloise J. Knapp
Bone and Bread by Saleema Nawaz
The Kept Woman by Susan Donovan
The Silent Bride by Glass, Leslie
Uncaged Love by JJ Knight
Sunday Billy Sunday by Mark Wheaton
Uncle John’s Briefs by Bathroom Readers’ Institute