“You know how really big guys are always nicknamed Tiny?" She didn’t wait for any response, afraid she’d chicken out. "Guess that would make you Master Munchkin, huh?”

“She took a second look at him, at his fancy tailored suit. Dark gray with pinstripes. Oh please, like she’d really believe he was a dom at all? “Gabrielle Anderson. Are you sure you’re Master Marcus?”“Why would you think I’m not Master Marcus?” he asked. Well, good grief. She waved a hand at him and kept the duh from slipping out. Just in case he really was Master Marcus. Maybe he hadn’t changed yet or something. “The suit? Where are your leathers or latex or…biker jacket or vest? And black? Did you forget to wear black?”He stared for a second, as if she’d turned into a drooling idiot, and then simply roared. Deep, full laughter—amazing coming from someone who looked like he should have a stick up his ass.”

“Any ham-handed idiot can make a woman scream. I prefer to assess…responsiveness.”

“Responsibility and confidence and self-control are internal, so don't overlook the quiet guy in the corner. He might be shorter, and yet able to drop you to your knees with a low command.”

“Thank you sweetie, I didn't know how much I needed you.. Perhaps now you might provide me with something else." "Oh? What if I'm not in the mood to provide anything else but food?" "Since I'm the master and you're the sub, seems like you get to provide it anyway.”

“You little subs make me nervous. Being around you is too much like walking into a room filled with tiny kittens and trying not to step on one.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t care, Abby.”“I don’t.” She glared at him, so full of life she almost glowed.“You do.” He kissed the pouting lips lightly. “And I’m going to keep you.”