'"You mean you want me to act out the part of dominant to her submissive, to be master to her servant, to be the sadist who inflicts brutality on her ...asochistic flesh?"'Precisely! And very well put considering your intellectual capacity. You know reading her mind is like reading the morning paper, it's all there in black and white. You can take my word for it, she likes dominant men, men who take control.'"But that's not my thing." I began protesting. "You know I like to..."'That's hardly my. As the owner of the bar where I worked, Mac was technically my boss, but his authority didn't hold as much sway as that of Shaun, the manager. Mac was a nice enough guy, although his advancing age meant he was growing more absentminded every day. I'd always suspected he owned a bar solely because he liked booze a lot; the effects of fifty years of drinking were becoming patently obvious. My changing relationship with Shaun had proven my theories right; I'd seen firsthand that Mac's wouldn't. They’re always in a bit of a zone before the game, and you know what a big deal today is.” “Not as nervous as me!” “I wouldn’t bet on it. But they are hotter in real life than on TV, aren’t they?” “I didn’t get much time to look, but I think you’re right. I thought I’d seen big guys before, but they’re something else.” Ginny says nothing. She knows my taste for footballers. I’ve had posters of my favourites on my wall since the moment puberty hit. Soon we’re in our seats, the bright winter. Understandably, Freddie was near frantic as he double checked the address three or four times before knocking on Sam's (and Cat's apparently) place. A nightmare experience on a plane and a packed airport aside, it actually wasn't too hard to find, but luckily the cabbie seemed to know the address pretty well. His mind was racing, hoping that she was alright, and that the way Cat had said it just made it sound like Sam was in bad shape. His nervousness was reaching critical when no one answered,.