Not Your Damn Submissive

I’m beyond pissed off with Callum Connors.

Yeah—the Callum Connors, star of my favourite TV show…and all my most private fantasies.

He’s a self-confessed Dom, and he wants me, even though I told him outright that I’m not interested in submission or in him.

But then I kissed him.

What possessed me? I don’t even remember who started it, me or him—just that I brushed against him, and then we were on the way to third base in the middle of the set.

Maybe I should have told him no again afterwards, but I just wanted to escape before he tried to take it further. I didn’t think I’d be able to resist him.

I still don’t.

Now he’s somehow thrown us together for two whole weeks, getting the studio to temporarily change my job from set decorator to his personal assistant. I can live with being his assistant, but I am not his damn submissive.

No matter how sexy he is.