Make Me by Suzanne Steele Page A

selection. She had pushed the sparsely sequin laden, chiffon, teal dress in my direction and declared that it was perfect because it would make my eyes pop.
    It is a lower cut in the front than I would normally wear, but I find that pasties and double sided tape keeps everything in place. I pair it with silver four inch heels that have the same clear sequins, daintily sprinkled over the silver strap that falls just short of my perfectly French manicured toes.
    The bottom of the dress falls in loose ruffles and I find myself twirling in a circle just to see it flare out when the wind hits beneath it. I feel like a princess— with no prince.
    I allow my mind to wander as I finish the last touches on my ensemble. I can’t say that I haven’t lost some respect for Greg when I heard what he has done to David.
    Isn’t the BDSM community supposed to be about having each other’s backs? I chide myself for being naïve in my thinking. Regardless of what community or clique I am dealing with, people are people and we are only human.
    I myself am well aware of grey area business decisions I have made in the past. I know I am only getting the ‘rumor mill’ version of things. I also know there are always two sides to a story… and then there’s the truth.
    I grab my clutch and declare silently to myself, show time. It is time to put anything else on the back burner until after I get through tonight. I’ve got to take care of business and I, of all people, know not to mix business with pleasure—boy, do I ever know…
    Just get through tonight, Linda, just get through tonight.

    David
    I take one last look in the mirror. I have been advised to wear a tux for this last shoot. As far as I’m concerned I’ll wear a bag over my head if it means I get to celebrate this circus being over.
    I run my manicured hand through my long, dark, layered hair. My sharp jaw line and dimpled chin have always been a hit with the ladies, as have my eyes and my thin straight lips that are usually set in a very serious manner. I may look like the internet pics that subs drool over, but it is all the ‘real deal’ with me—No hype—No bullshit!
    If there is one word I would use to describe me, it would be intense. I am known for being a serious, no-bullshit type. Even though many of the subs in my club may fantasize about me being their Dom, very few could handle my fierce nature.
    Even just a scene with me is so violently all-consuming that very few subs will play with me. Sandy is about the only one who can handle my level of intensity.
    Though Sandy is crazy about me, I just don’t have that spark towards her that I need to pursue anything deeper than play . The only person I’ve connected with on a core level, since the death of my wife, is Linda.
    I pull at the cuffs of my shirt, adjust my Rolex, and grab my jacket—it is show time.



Chapter Twenty Two
    Linda
    I pull up to the club and the valet immediately runs up to my car, followed by a man who appears to be more of a bouncer than a doorman. He pulls me through the mob as he speaks into an ear piece. “She’s here, Sir. Yes, Sir, will do.”
    It is a circus already and I am late, as usual.
    I am ushered through the hall and to an office door. He basically pushes me through the door and leaves me looking into David’s serious countenance.
    Oh shit, talk about a sucker punch.
    David stalks his way over, reaching behind me and locking the door. One of his fingers goes beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
    The words that come through his snarled lips drip sarcasm. “This joke of a realty show I’ve subjected myself to in the name of ‘Doing the right thing,’ is over tonight.
    Part of me wants to be offended about his dig at my reality show, but I don’t have the nerve, not under that gaze of his. He never takes his eyes off of me as the finger that he has under my chin moves to trail down the skin that my low cut, v-neck reveals. “When the circus is over, I’m the