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at the open door she realized that she still had her skirt in her hands, showing off her pussy, and that her breasts were still on display.
    “Asshat,” she said softly, knowing he was right. She would be there on Friday. And she would probably love every second of the weekend.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    The suitcase in the trunk of her car seemed to call out to her as Francesca went about her Friday morning routine. It called her a liar, not to the outside world but to herself. She’d packed, unpacked, then repacked it three times last night. With each instance, she’d told herself she wasn’t going to Mr. Oliver’s, either the club or the house. She was going to stay home this weekend, curl up with a good book and a bottle of wine. Maybe there would be a good movie on TV.
    But each time she’d made the decision to stay, there had been a nagging sensation at the base of her spine reminding her that, despite her anger, she’d followed his instructions. She hadn’t had an orgasm even though she wanted one so badly she could taste it.
    “Damn you, McDunn,” she said, louder than she should have.
    From outside her office, Sally said, “Something wrong, Ma’am?”
    “Everything,” she said under her breath before she answered, “Everything’s fine, thank you.”
    She hated lying to her assistant, but she hadn’t told anyone about her connection with Mr. Oliver. What would people think if they knew the Domme known as Mistress C, who ran a BDSM magazine and wielded a whip with a sharp bite, was submitting to a man? It went against everything people knew about her. It went against what she knew about herself. But was Oliver right when he said she needed to explore other avenues?
    “Crap,” she said, “where is Francis when I need him?” She always discussed things like this with her twin. They were close, as twins always were, but they had the added bond of both being dominant, of running a business together based on that dominance, with both Steele Publications and Fingertip Fantasies.
    But Francis was on his honeymoon, and she didn’t want to distract him with too many phone calls that would take his mind off of Saffron. She wished she’d asked her brother about his initial reactions to his bride. He’d sent her to a Fingertip Fantasies resort to “do a story,” when in actuality he’d wanted to play with her, because the attraction he felt for her was so strong. He’d told Francesca that the moment Saffron had stepped into the room he’d known she was the woman for him.
    Her reactions to McDunn were intense, that much was for certain, but she hadn’t had the feeling that they would be a couple. Maybe that was because she had just been so damn horny that she needed to get fucked. Or maybe it was because she knew he was Dom, and she wasn’t a submissive. Just because he made her come…
    “Sally, come in here, please.”
    Her assistant came through the door, a smile plastered on her face. She’d been smiling since she’d hooked up with Sir Striker. The giggling had lessened, too. The new Dom was good for the sub.
    “I want to ask you something, and I want you to be totally honest with me. I think you can, shall we say, give me some insight into someone.”
    “Yes, Ma’am.”
    “This conversation does not go outside this room.”
    “Yes, Ma’am.” The assistant went to the door and gently pushed it closed. When she was back in front of the desk, she gave her boss a shy smile.
    There was a part of her that didn’t want to approach this subject with Sally. She’d had many submissives tell her why they were submissive, but they’d all been men. At the beginning of a relationship, she always asked a new sub why they felt the need to be dominated. She hoped that asking a woman the same question would give her some insight.
    “I want to know about the first moment you knew you were submissive.”
    Sally started to giggle, then put her hand in front of her mouth. It was obvious to