toward Angela so he would follow. Raul and I were a team and he knew Angela required watching after a scene. I shut the door when the two walked away. My eyes traveled slowly up the large yummy male body standing in front of me. He was wearing black loafers, black pants, and a long sleeved white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his remarkable chest. Clearly defined muscles bulged beneath his shirt which made the entire package sexier. They weren’t the over the top muscles of a competing body builder but with a little oil he would make a statement. His skin was darker than a sun tan would provide and I guessed he had Native American, Hispanic, or another darker skinned race somewhere in his bloodline. He was gorgeous. I’d heard the rumors through the BDSM grapevine but seeing him in person was different. For the first time in years my pussy creamed at the sight of a man. I was male exclusive when I fucked but it took a lot of work to take me over the edge. I had a feeling this man could do it without touching me. He was trouble and it didn’t help that he knew how insanely sexy he was. I’m sure he just blinked those luscious dark eyes and most women drooled as an orgasm rocked their world. I hoped the saliva in my mouth stayed where it was and I could get through this without making a complete fool of myself. When my eyes finally stopped on his heated gaze, he quirked his mouth slightly and I noticed the dimples that only made him more arresting. I bet he hated those dimples. I managed to control my breathing. I wasn’t the best dominatrix in the state for nothing. My cool gaze met his; one master to another. “Mr. Collins, you’ve taken me by surprise. I thought I was clear in my refusal of your offer.” “I was told you only fucked men.” His chocolate eyes pierced mine as he held back a grin but purposely let his dimples flash in a well-practiced expression that had to drive women mad with lust. My shoulders stiffened. “I don't discuss my sexual preferences with strangers.” This time he smiled full out and my knees melted. Years of hiding my own inadequacies kept me standing in the face of Michelangelo’s David. I was really in trouble. “I don't particularly care about your sexual preferences but I paid a lot of money to find out what makes you tick and I wasn’t expecting surprises. I can't say I'm thrilled to fly halfway across the country to handle what should have been a cut and dry deal you couldn’t refuse. I’m not fond of the word ‘no’ so here I am at this less than stellar establishment. Seeing it in person is far worse than the pictures my team provided. I’m at a complete loss about your reasons for refusing to work for me.” This was his Dom voice and it was enough to snap me out of my love sick fantasies of taking his hard cock in my mouth and making him moan. Anger helped me gain control of my erratic heartbeat. There was nothing I could do about the fire from blazing in my eyes. My complexion turning from pale to red was the bane of light skin, freckles, and red hair which hung in a single roped braid down my back. I had a Dom voice too. “You've wasted your time for nothing and there was no need for you to slum in my neck of the woods. My answer was final, is final. No!” “Your boss feels differently.” “My boss can't afford to lose me.” Johnny Ford knew I was his bread and butter and I drew beginners and BDSM legends to his slimy assed club. At five foot six and 140 pounds, I wasn't small and it took years to turn my extra pounds into muscle. Those muscles could wield a whip to perfection. I had come to terms with my large framed body. Damn, Damian Collins made me wish I was 5'2" and built like Angela. Argh, the man was a god or the devil as his name suggested. He needed to leave. “Your boss has been well compensated for your time and he’s placed you at my disposal for the next 30 days.” No fucking way. Hot fury rushed up inside me, steam should