They clicked their coffee mugs together for a toast. "And I called you as soon as she left my apartment and the rest is history," Eric said. "I've never looked back, Donna. I've told you—there was always something missing with Jessica. She knew it; I knew it. We never talked about it, but we were definitely not on the same page."
Donna batted her long eyelashes over her upheld fork. "But we are!" Well, almost.
After dating chastely for several months, Eric had found Donna's notes one night for an article for the magazine at which both she and Jessica Daniels worked. Our City would profile an underground S&M club, one of those open secrets that no one bothers with unless there's a problem. While researching the article, Donna had been allowed to interview, visit, and photograph—all very discreetly. In the process, she discovered what had been missing in her own sex life, at least theoretically. She'd taken it no further than some planning and a few purchases—that is, until she led Eric into her red room that fateful night.
Months later, the red room was a regular "thing" for them. Last night had been a typical evening of rough play, with Donna as the dominatrix. In fact, after the first time, when Eric had dutifully and enthusiastically taken orders from her as she walked him through tying her up, whipping her with the crop, handcuffing her to the special bed in the red room, and finally making love to her, he seemed to be content with being the sub to her Domme. She enjoyed the fact that she was able to give him what he wanted, but lately, she found herself wishing he would take a more… active… role. Oh well. No relationship is perfect. We'll sort it out.
Unbidden, a thought came to mind. She'd kidded Jessica about wanting too much from a man, but deep down she hadn't wanted to settle for less than the very best, either. Is that what I'm doing? Am I settling? Shouldn't I tell him what I want? How I feel? I am in the communication industry, after all. She also realized that for most of her life, she had kept her truest, deepest feelings sheltered and protected, far from prying eyes and probing questions.
Eric was frowning. "Are you okay, babe?"
Nothing must spoil Bridesmaid Day. "Of course! More than okay. I think I'm just a little jittery about the ceremony. I want everything to be perfect for Jessica and Worth."
Eric leaned over and kissed her, tasting of cheese and coffee. "It will be, I have no doubt. The only people I've ever seen as happy together as those two are, are you and me. I'm glad you're going to be her maid of honor. There was a time I was afraid you might lose the friendship because of me, but look at you! Best friends, maid of honor. Think of it as a trial run when you're walking slowly down the aisle. It can be a practice run for our own wedding in a few months. Hopefully."
Donna covered her concerns with a quick smile. They had talked about getting married sometime after the first of the year, but just a week or so ago, she'd told Jessica they might move up the date. Eric was moving in with her soon—which was true—and she'd blurted to Jessica that they were going to be married just a few weeks after that. Why did I do that? Do I not want her there? For all I know, their honeymoon will last an entire month. Maybe they should go to the justice of the peace, anyway. No guests at all. But she'd always dreamed of a small ceremony, at least. Nothing fancy, but special.
First things, first. Get Jessica married. Move Eric in. We'll figure it out.
"What do you think?" Jessica Daniels twirled in front of the full-length mirror in the dressing area of the church. She wore a cowl-necked sheath of pure white. Jessica and Donna might be best friends and co-workers, perfectly suited in many ways, but there was not much resemblance in their appearance. Age-wise, yes, but while Jessica had an hourglass figure, generous bust, and flowing brown hair, Donna was more athletically built, slender, with a mass of unruly blonde curls.
Jessica's wedding gown was long sleeved—a good choice with autumn's chill outside. Each sleeve came to a point on the hand that reached all the way to the fingers in what Donna thought was quite striking and sophisticated. The back was low and also draped. There was a modest train. Donna would be worrying about tripping if it were her, but Jessica exuded nothing but confidence, poise, and joy.
Donna smiled at her friend's reflection in the mirror. "You look absolutely beautiful."
The other attendants were from Jessica's new family, now sisters by marriage: Kari and the increasingly pregnant Layla. Jessica's mother, a widow, had recently married a long-time friend, the city's newly retired fire chief—who was Kari's father and Layla's father-in-law. Chet Henderson would have the privilege of walking Jessica down the aisle. He'd known her since she was a little girl riding on her father's shoulders—a fellow firefighter who had perished in a blaze just two years earlier.
Kari acted as make-up artist and Donna had to admit, even though it was more makeup than she normally wore, each woman looked exquisite. Donna didn't know what half
