Hooked: Club Decadence Book 7, page 1
Hooked
Club Decadence, Book 7
By
Maddie Taylor
Copyright © 2023 Maddie Taylor
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Hooked, Club Decadence, Book 7
Published by Maddie Taylor/Breathless Romance
www.RomanceByMaddieTaylor.com
Cover Design by Fantasia Frog Designs
Images by DepositPhotos.com
Editing by Decadent Publishing
This book is intended for entertainment purposes only. Activities represented in this book are based on fantasy only, not real people or events. Recommended for adult audiences only.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
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Hooked | Club Decadence, Book 7
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Club Decadence
Other Titles by Maddie Taylor
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Hooked
Club Decadence, Book 7
AFTER YEARS OF SEARCHING for the dom of her dreams, legal secretary Olivia Wright has all but given up on finding him. With a past full of heartbreak and intermittent dry spells, she is nearly resigned to the life of loneliness that seems to be her fate. She can’t even garner the attention of her incredibly handsome boss, although she’s certainly tried. Spending eight hours a day in her tightest skirts hasn’t tempted the hotshot attorney at all. If anything, it has discouraged Olivia enough to try and move on. When she procures an invitation to Club Decadence, the most exclusive kink club in the state, it seems her luck might finally be changing.
Dapper, dynamic, and disciplined, Joseph Hooks is not your average attorney. He’s shamelessly smart, effortlessly powerful, and a stickler for following the rules. Intimidating his opponents in the courtroom comes as naturally as wielding his authority over the submissives he’s drawn to in his private life. Although no matter who he’s dominating, he never loses control. Until he spots his strictly vanilla secretary taking part in a new member recruitment event at his club. It’s hard enough for Joseph to ignore Olivia and her divine derriere at work; watching her with another dom would be impossible to bear.
Despite his attempts to exercise caution, work and play finally collide. The mutual desire smoldering between him and Olivia for three long years must finally be dealt with. Giving in to temptation will change everything, but Joseph is hopelessly enamored. When he claims her, no matter the obstacles they must hurdle, he’s not letting her off his hook.
Publisher’s Note: Hooked was previously Book 1 of Decadence Nights, a spinoff to the original series. It has been incorporated into Club Decadence as the series continues. It has been revised, reedited, and recovered. All the books in the series are steamy, suspense-filled romances that contain power exchange, BDSM themes, and scenes with graphic violence, which may be disturbing to some.
Chapter 1
THE IMPATIENT DRUMMING of her nails on her desk had synced with the annoyingly loud ticking of the clock on the wall behind her. She shouldn’t have been able to hear anything over the sound of the laser printer. But Olivia’s attention had zoned in on the minute hand, which seemed to have slowed to a snail’s pace the closer it got to quitting time.
While she waited for the last sheet of address labels, she tried to shift focus to something else, in case a clock was like a watched pot. A thud from the next office diverted her attention. Immediately, her mind conjured an image of the man behind the closed door.
At first glance, his classic crew cut, wire-rimmed glasses, and conservative suits—the staple being tweed, which he accessorized with an occasional bow tie—screamed nerd. If he added a pocket protector, he’d fit right in with the tax attorneys and accountants in the suite upstairs. Yet, one only had to be in his presence for a few minutes to learn how wrong first impressions could be.
His six-foot-seven-inch frame instantly turned heads whenever he walked into a room. The sparkle in his gorgeous green eyes, hidden behind the lenses of his round Harry Potter-esque frames, hinted at his quick wit and what she always suspected was a deeply buried mischievous nature. His voice didn’t boom like one would expect from a man his size. Instead, its smooth, hypnotic baritone captivated from the first word to the last compelling inflection.
After three years of working at the prestigious Austin law firm, sitting only a few feet from his door and soaking up the authority and understated yet still potent masculinity he exuded, she was in love and lust with Joseph R. Hooks III.
It was unfortunate she’d fallen so hard for him because even though he starred in every one of her naughty daydreams and nighttime fantasies, it couldn’t ever be more than that. The firm had a strict no-fraternization policy, and Joseph was nothing if not a stickler for the rules. He was also her boss, but those were the least of the barriers to being with him. Foremost was that in the thirty-seven months, twenty-three days, and seven and a half hours—but who was counting—since she started working as his legal secretary, he had never looked at her with more than a professional interest.
“Ms. Wright.” His unusually stern voice pierced the silence of her office.
She swiveled in her chair to find him in front of her desk, frowning down at her.
“Is something wrong, sir?”
“Most assuredly. Stand up, please.”
Livia slowly came to her feet. Almost six feet tall in her four-inch heels, she wasn’t used to being towered over, but being next to him was like she’d stepped into a hole. Rather than feeling intimidated, the disparity in size made her feel petite and feminine and stirred a primal desire within her to yield to his authority.
“Hands on your desk and assume the position.”
The order and his expectations were clear—and shocking.
She gasped in alarm. “You’re not serious.”
“Ah, but I am. Your actions are a reflection on me. We’ll address your recent decline in efficiency here and now, which hopefully will nip it in the bud.”
“What did I do?”
“If you give it due consideration, I believe it will come to you.”
Calm and collected, her employer rarely got riled, but he didn’t tolerate subpar performance and never hesitated to address it, except he’d never done it like this.
He crossed his arms and gazed at her soberly from his lofty height. A glint of something she couldn’t quite name, maybe eagerness or arousal—please, let it be arousal—reflected in his beautiful eyes.
“Bend over your desk, Olivia. Procrastination will only earn you more.”
Warmth and wetness flooded the needy and long-neglected place between her thighs, dampening her panties. Punishment at Joseph’s hand was the best fringe benefit of her job. She’d eagerly give them all up—vacation time, expense account, health, vision, and dental—for this perk alone. As a submissive, she craved his dominance and yearned to be under his control. She also wanted to please him and readily accepted the consequences when she did not.
Rolling her chair out of the way, Livia lowered her upper body from belly to cheek onto the flat surface.
“Skirt up, panties down, little one. You’ve worked for me long enough to know my requirements.”
Little one. Said in his deep, resonant voice, the endearment had her juices flowing, quite literally.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, breathless with excitement.
She placed her hands on the desktop to push herself up and bare her bottom as he demanded, but he stopped.
“Maintain your position. You should be able to do as I’ve ordered from where you are.”
Her cheeks flushed hotly. The indignity of being punished by her employer wasn’t something she’d soon forget. But presenting her bare bottom by adjusting her own clothing made it seem as though she was a willing accomplice.
And aren’t you?
Refusing to answer her own pointed question, she reached back with both hands and tugged her pencil skirt up her thighs. It was no easy task. The snugness increased as the material bunched up, the path becoming more difficult as it traversed her curvy hips and rounded behind. Once she had it high around her waist, she paused.
She’d worn sheer hose and a garter belt. Did he want those down, too?
“The stockings and garters may stay. They look lovely against your creamy skin, but the panties must go. Pull them down to mid-thigh and keep them there.”
As she tugged down her lace and mesh, high-rise bikini briefs, the gusset got caught between her thighs. She had to wiggle and spread her legs to release them. Mortified, Livia bit her bottom lip to contain a moan. What a lewd and jiggly sight that must have been.
As she shifted, cool air brushed against her wet pussy and inner thighs. She wondered if he noticed how aroused she was. Could he see the evidence of her desire on the soaked satin or smell her lustful scent?
“Good girl,” he murmured, stepping closer.
She managed to suppress a groan at his praise, but her control was further tested when his warm hand ran over her bottom cheeks. She failed as a shudder swept through her needy body.
He did not mention her reaction. Instead, he continued with his instructions. “I expect you to behave while receiving your punishment as well. No blocking or squirming, and no name-calling directed at me or any of my ancestors. You will hold your position for the count of one hundred.”
“One hundred!” she exclaimed in dismay.
“I pay you well for precision and won’t tolerate sloppiness or mistakes.” His large hand glided over her taut globes and down to her thighs, his fingertips wandering dangerously close to her center. He’d find her wet, which would increase her mortification. She had a brief reprieve when he announced, “We’ll begin with a hand spanking.”
But the implication there would be more soon had her imagination running wild. What would follow? A paddle? His belt? Or one of the rattan canes he kept in an umbrella stand in the corner of his office.
As she pondered the course of her punishment, from the corner of her eye, she saw him draw back his broad hand. Alongside her dread, a thrill of excitement rushed through her, channeling more liquid heat to her pussy.
Dear heaven! She was a grown woman, a professional. Did she actually want him to punish her like a willful child?
Although her rational mind shouted, no! her highly aroused body screamed, Hell, yes! Having him touch her in every way possible was her dream come true.
Her breath froze in her chest as she waited with carnal anticipation for his hand to land the first solid spank.
Screech! Clack, clack. Crunch!
The harsh, grating noises made her jump, which jarred her from her daydream. So lost in her erotic fantasy, the sudden movement sent her off-balance, and she almost fell off her chair. Once she steadied herself, her head snapped around to identify the source. No big shock. It was her printer and another damn paper jam.
“Just when I was getting to the best part, too,” Livia grumbled.
She’d given up on the recurring fantasy ever becoming a reality for many reasons. Joseph was a consummate professional and had never been what she would call stern with her, nor did he find fault in her work. She never gave him a reason to.
Livia took pride in her work and paid meticulous attention to detail. Everything she presented to her boss, whether court documents, discovery binders, his transcribed notes, or something as simple as an interoffice memo, was tidy and precise, like her desk and attire. Furthermore, he had an umbrella in the stand in his office, not whippy canes for disciplining his staff.
She drew a deep breath while covertly rubbing her hard nipples with her forearms. Looking down, there they were, clearly visible through her lace bra and silk blouse. Anyone she crossed paths with would notice.
Forcing herself to focus on her work, she turned to battle her nemesis: the hated all-in-one wireless printer.
After ten minutes of picking out bits of paper and resetting the infernal machine, cursing it the whole while under her breath, a page of labels shot out into the tray. She speedily affixed the stickers to the remaining envelopes.
With her last task of the day completed, Livia glanced at the wall clock again and did some quick calculations. She would be home in twenty minutes. With an hour to shower, do her hair and makeup, and another two hours for the drive from Austin, she would arrive at the club by eight thirty.
“Plenty of time,” she murmured as she slid the weighed and stamped envelopes into the outgoing tray.
She tidied up, putting away the envelopes and extra labels then logged out of her computer. “Only one more thing to do, and I’m out of here.”
Livia reached for her desk phone and depressed the intercom button, frowning upon noticing a chip in her newly polished nails. The gel manicure she had gotten last night was supposed to last weeks, not hours.
Faintly, she heard the buzz in the next office.
A moment later, a deep voice answered, “Yes, Olivia?”
“I’m leaving for the day, sir.”
There was a pause. “It’s not quite 4:30.”
Startled, she stared at her phone. They’d discussed this only yesterday, although she shouldn’t be surprised. He often lost track of what was happening in the world while preparing for a big case.
During these times, he reminded her of the absent-minded professor, but he was actually a brilliant trial attorney. The Austin legal community called him the lethal litigator due to the many high-profile capital murder defendants he’d represented. She believed it had a lot to do with his tough-as-nails reputation and a near-perfect acquittal record as well. In fact, during her tenure with him, he hadn’t lost a single case. To truly appreciate how he’d earned it required a trip to court to see him in action or a brief chat with the opposing counsel after he eviscerated them.
But he wasn’t the stereotypical rich, arrogant, amoral asshole. They were out there; Lord knows she’d worked for a few, and TV dramas portrayed them that way for a reason.
Yes, he drove a Jag—sleek, black, and pretentious—and he lived in an enormous house on Lake Travis in Costa Bella, a gated community about twenty minutes northwest of the city. He also did a notable amount of pro bono work, was invested in programs that served underprivileged youth, and served on three advisory boards for charities that focused on childhood education, community outreach, and women’s health.
He didn’t speak of his personal life, but his degree on the wall was from UT right there in Austin. Through the office rumor mill, she’d learned his mother was a nurse, but no one had ever met his father. It explained a lot, including why he didn’t get his JD from one of the prestigious Ivy League Law schools back East. Maybe hard work and humble beginnings factored into his success and was why he seemed more grounded than some of the obnoxious Harvard-educated jerks she’d worked for previously.
Not that Joseph couldn’t be aggressive and argumentative or a persnickety pain in the ass, particularly with her and the junior associates assigned to him. He was also single-minded and laser-focused when going to trial, but those were the traits of a good litigator. And he was that way because his client’s future, and whether they walked free or faced a lifetime confined behind steel bars, depended on him being at the top of his game.
But he possessed a softer side. She’d seen it in his generosity to his causes and with his employees. And she’d heard his joy for life in his rich laughter. Although it didn’t come often, it stirred a warmth inside her that wasn’t appropriate in a law office. He had a sharp wit, a dry sense of humor, and could be utterly charming. If not, she wouldn’t be so smitten with him.
“You have plans.”
His voice coming from the doorway behind her instead of through the speaker had Livia spinning in her chair. Having discarded his jacket, he stood in shirtsleeves, his tie still knotted impeccably at his throat. Her gaze drifted upward beyond the dotted navy-blue silk to his darkened jaw, which bore a healthy scruff of five-o’clock shadow. What would it feel like against her neck if he kissed there? Better yet, on her inner thighs with his mouth on her—
“Olivia?”
She blinked, her fantasy replaced by his handsome face. Realizing he expected a response, she replied haltingly, her heart racing, a common reaction to his presence. “Yes. I, uh...have an...engagement this evening.”
