Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3)

by Fewings, Vanessa

  Cameron and Shay were acting serious.

  Their conversation had moved on to Scotland and Shay sharing with us that he could live there.

  “It sounds beautiful,” I said in response to the mention of sprawling moors, ancient castles, and awesome pubs.

  Shay looked surprised. “Ask permission to speak, Mia. Remember your place, please.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, with a touch of rebellion. I caught a curl of a lip that might have passed for Cameron’s amusement.

  The wall these men put up between me and them was palpable. A realization hit me as I continued to admire Mr. Eye Candy and his rogue friend.

  Their severity served as their way of preventing their own heartache by keeping women at arm’s length. Yes, they loved their kink, but after all Cameron had shown me, all that time spent together, I used my knowledge to advance my understanding of the human condition, along with the content I’d absorbed from the books I’d devoured when left alone in his library.

  And now, seeing beyond their feigned disinterest in me, reading their body language, that crook of a brow, that twitch of a lip, a flex of a jaw, that cadence and rhythm of conversation, I saw through that masculine veil and the truth came spilling out.

  They glanced my way.

  Behind polite conversation, they both held a wariness of what I might do next. To them I was a feisty entity yet to be broken in, and one neither of them could control.

  Unless I willingly gave myself over.

  I was like one of those crazy racehorses with the ability to win the BDSM equivalent of the Triple Crown, or should things not go their way, I’d quite possibly blow up the entire race and cause nothing but disarray.

  Untamable.

  A challenge for Cameron. An annoyance for Richard. In need of roping in for Shay.

  Drawn to Cameron’s crooked smile, I watched the way he topped up our drinks, the way he ignored me again to continue chatting about the modern marvel that was London’s skyline.

  Cameron knew a lot about architecture, apparently.

  He never loved you, came that cruel tease from my muse.

  He never will.

  Spiraling down into the worst case of blues I’d ever had, my mouth took the brunt of my disquiet as my teeth grazed my lower lip. My thoughts drifted back to our shower and Cameron’s response to my declaration of love. As though I’d delivered the worst news possible.

  Dr. Finley’s challenge was now put to rest. Along with any hope Cameron and I might ever share an intimate moment again. This once affection between us was now a memory.

  I envied Dr. Finely and his ability to extract what was needed from a few seconds of observation. His laser-sharp perception had even impressed Cameron. Perhaps if I’d have been in possession of this quality I might never have handed over my heart. Not that I remembered the actual moment it happened. I’d just woken up one day infatuated with this man.

  A spell yet to be broken.

  Cameron’s frown was directed at me.

  He stepped towards me and reached for my left hand. We both stared down at the fingernail dents in my palm.

  He traced a fingertip over them. “Why, look at that. You just extended your lifeline.” Cameron’s fingertip slid along. “Your heart line.”

  Our eyes rose to meet each other’s and it was easy to disappear in his.

  The room fell away.

  This, this was home.

  I was thousands of miles away from the country I’d been born and raised in, yet being with Cameron was my one true casa.

  I readied my heart for his reaction.

  Cameron pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arm around me while his other still held his glass. His right arm clung me to him in a tight embrace. With my eyes closed, it was impossible not to weaken. I rested my head against his chest and marveled at his ability to know exactly what I needed.

  His cologne was heady.

  Melting against him, I willed this moment never to end. Trepidation loomed closer with his threat of taking me the rest of the way in my training and what that meant.

  “Tell me your thoughts,” he whispered, his voice low, alluring.

  “I was wondering…” I glanced over at Shay.

  Cameron planted a kiss to my cheek. “Yes.”

  “How Dr. Finley did it?” I said. “How did he know so much about Shay from merely a glance?”

  Shay looked warily at us. “Do I even want to know?”

  Cameron arched a brow. “He pretty much nailed you, Shay.”

  “Okay, let’s have it then?” said Shay.

  “Haircut was easy,” said Cameron, resting his hand on the arch of my back. “You handed him that one. It was your obvious mindfulness, your ability to take in your surroundings, process your observations and react with alertness. Your confident air. The firm shake of your hand. The ability to decline an invitation into the house elegantly and without offense. Your wisdom to know we needed privacy.”

  “How did he know he’d been in the navy?” I asked.

  “Finley knew I was ex-navy?” said Shay.

  “Your suit had an expensive cut, but that tug you gave your tie when you got in the car hinted you weren’t used to wearing it,” said Cameron. “The SEAL collar is easy on the throat.”

  Shay brushed a hand over his head. “I’m getting a new haircut.”

  He made us laugh.

  Shay reached into his pocket and removed his phone. He stared at the screen, his frown deepening. “Merrill just entered Zengi.”

  “Good,” said Cameron.

  “We’re having dinner with Lance,” said Shay.

  “What? When?” I said.

  “Now,” he said.

  “Richard’s tactic didn’t go down too well,” admitted Cameron.

  Shay shifted uncomfortably.

  “Lance just so happens to be in London,” Cameron said. “I thought we might go for a touch of diplomacy.”

  “Am I going?” I said.

  “Of course.” Cameron smiled. “Who’s hungry for clams?”

  CHAPTER 14

  TALK ABOUT A mind-fuck.

  We’d gone from ferreting me out of the Savoy in the early hours, followed by a breathtaking motorbike ride across London to shake off our stalkers, to stashing me away in an officer’s club, to now, sitting opposite Lance Merrill at dinner.

  Like everything was just fine.

  I sat between Cameron and Shay, with Lance sitting opposite. Our conversation was pleasant enough, as though we were just three Americans enjoying London’s nightlife and I wasn’t a wide eyed submissive dangled before the scariest lion in the den. Though Richard called them dragons and I could see why.

  Lance rested back casually, oozing power in his black pinstriped suit, his arms outstretched on either side of the leather seat in our private booth.

  Zengi was one of those swanky restaurants with close fitting tables and a wealthy clientele, judging from the lack of prices on the menu. The chatter of English accents mixed with the clang of knives and forks and soft classical music playing.

  “How are you enjoying London?” asked Cameron.

  “Love the city,” said Lance. “You?”

  “We’re having a blast,” said Cameron, turning over the menu. “Highly recommend the oysters.”

  “If the recommendation comes from you,” said Lance, “I know they’re good. How about you, Shay? See anything you wouldn’t mind swallowing whole?”

  “Still deciding,” said Shay, pointing to my menu. “Mia?”

  “I like swordfish,” I told him.

  Cameron nudged my arm. “Why not go for something you’ve never tried, like haggis?”

  “From Scotland.” I beamed at Shay. “What’s in that?”

  “The trick with haggis,” said Shay, “is to eat it first and ask questions later.”

  He made me giggle and I almost forgot we were dining with the enemy.

  “May I?” Cameron held up the wine list.

  With a nod of permission,
Cameron chose a 1972 bottle of Desmond Prue, followed by words of approval from Lance. He’d picked the best bottle, apparently.

  Despite the suggestion of haggis, I went for the clams in garlic sauce, as recommended by Cameron. He chose the same. Shay ordered haggis and was eager to have me taste it. Lance went for a foreign sounding dish with lamb.

  Red wine flowed.

  The food was delicious.

  A second bottle of wine was ordered.

  The conversation went from oil prices, Lance’s latest vacay in Dubai with his wife, to the benefits of having a driver and not having to tackle London traffic. Which I’d discovered was even worse than Los Angeles, if such a thing were possible.

  I drifted in and out of their chatter, thinking back to my early days of working at Enthrall and about all that had transpired since. It really was worth journaling about. Especially this new experience of visiting London. I hoped I’d be able to remember every detail so I could tell Bailey all about it. I’d leave out this bit though, me eating dinner at an upscale restaurant with Lance.

  That small taste of haggis off Shay’s plate was delicious. Much to his amusement, I stole another bite. We evened out my mischief with him stealing several clams from my plate.

  Cameron dipped a piece of bread in his garlic sauce and took a bite. “Lance, I’ve given serious thought to your request to establish another club. You have my approval to begin drawing up specs.”

  Lance took a sip of wine. “That’s very generous of you, Cole.”

  “I will, of course, lend my dominatrixes.” Cameron waved his hand casually. “I’ll provide my best doms to get your club off the ground. Once established, you can hire who you like.”

  “The club will carry your name,” said Lance. “With your stamp of approval, you’ll encourage members to utilize its services. I can’t exactly have it under my name, now can I?”

  “If I do agree to provide Enthrall’s name, you’ll honor my rules,” said Cameron.

  Lance’s knife sliced through his lamb cutlet. “I’m sure we can promise you that.”

  “How are your plans going to run for Congress this year?” asked Shay.

  “My team’s ready,” said Lance.

  “Love the campaign slogan,” said Cameron. “Very catchy—”

  “Vote Merrill or Peril,” said Lance. “Some young pup came up with that in my campaign office. He’d worked with Frederick Baxter during his run in New York. Won him his seat. Very talented young man.”

  “Sounds like it,” said Cameron. “Why isn’t he still working for Baxter?”

  “He fired him,” said Lance. “Brought in new talent.”

  Cameron gave a nod of approval. “So, I’d like to offer you a compromise. I know we reneged on you winning this prime submissive.”

  I set my glass down, nervous I’d tip it over and embarrass myself.

  “I’m here to collect,” said Lance, his focus settling on me.

  Making me squirm.

  Cameron’s hand rested on my thigh. “Here’s the deal. I’ve discussed this issue with Richard at length and we’ve come to what we believe is a satisfactory conclusion.”

  “Let’s hear it,” said Lance.

  “First, you agree to drop the threat against Richard.”

  Lance shrugged. “Sure.”

  “And you give me your word my therapeutic techniques are never discussed or questioned again.”

  “How long am I getting Mia for?” said Lance.

  I raised my chin high, defiant, ready for Cameron to tell Lance where he could stick it.

  “One week,” said Cameron calmly. “You get her for one week only.”

  Thoughtfully, Lance chewed his lip.

  As I bit through mine.

  What the fuck!

  Cameron stretched back casually. “Returned to me by the stroke of midnight on Sunday.”

  A jolt of adrenaline made my hands tremble.

  Disbelief.

  Was Cameron doing this because of what I’d done to him in The London Tower? Had I pushed him too far? Pushed him away?

  “Do you agree to my terms?” asked Cameron.

  “You have my word,” said Lance, raising his glass in a toast.

  Cameron and Shay raised their glasses too, looking mighty happy with this fucked up agreement.

  In the shower, Cameron had rested his forehead against mine. ‘I’ll always watch over you,’ he’d told me. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  Another wave of lightheadedness.

  Had every word been a lie?

  I tugged on Cameron’s pant leg.

  “Mia,” he snapped. “Will you stop doing that.”

  I flinched and shot Shay a look of confusion.

  Shay rubbed his hand up and down my back. Seriously? Was he really trying to comfort me?

  Lance gave a nod. “My wife will approve.”

  “Exactly,” said Cameron. “Any longer and wives are prone to jealousy.”

  “Unless of course you have a wife like mine,” said Lance. “Her kink makes mine pale.”

  “She’s a stunning dominatrix,” said Cameron.

  “Why thank you. I’m a lucky man.”

  “How is Helete?” asked Cameron, as he signed the check and took his credit card back. He nudged the restaurant’s bill to the edge of the table.

  “Very well, thank you,” said Lance. “Sends her regards. She’s back at the hotel getting a massage in our room. You know how business bores her.”

  “Where are you staying?” asked Shay casually.

  And earned himself a glare from Lance.

  “How are the girls?” said Cameron. “Megan’s, what? Twenty-five now?”

  “Twenty-six,” said Lance. “Just graduated from UCLA with honors. Arabella’s doing well. ”

  “Glad to hear it. Megan will make a fine doctor,” said Cameron.

  Lance’s lecherous gaze swept over my chest.

  Forcing my best stone faced expression, I pretended none of this was affecting me. If I was going to get out of this, I’d have to stay calm. Focus. Rethink everything I thought I knew. Though with two glasses of wine fogging my brain, remaining elegant was challenging. Crawling under the table and bolting for the door was still in the running.

  Cameron glanced at his watch. “Well, I think we’re done here.”

  “Sir?” I poked his side.

  He snapped round to look at me.

  Right now he was going head to head with Lance on the bastard Richter scale.

  “Can I talk to you privately?” I whispered.

  “Not right now, no.” Cameron leaned over and played with a strand of my hair. “Honor everything you’ve been taught. Obey every command. Please your new master.”

  “Remember what we discussed earlier, Mia,” said Shay, his fingertip trailing my shoulder.

  I’d shrugged off Shay’s hand.

  His words screamed back into my brain. “Get with the program,” he’d told me. “You’re their plaything.”

  “I need to go to the restroom,” I said.

  Cameron folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “Later.”

  “Now.”

  “Mia.” Cameron kept his voice low. “We’ve been over this. Firstly, you failed to ask permission to speak. Secondly, your disrespect is unfathomable—”

  “What about what I want?”

  The kick to my shin came from Shay.

  Cameron’s glare softened as he turned back to Lance. “As you can see, you’ll find her disobedient, but in there lies the pleasure. Gag her. I do. Does the trick.”

  What the fucking hell?

  I reached for my glass, my face flushed with indignation.

  “Any other advice you can think of?” said Cameron to Shay. “Before we say goodbye to Mia?”

  “A whipping quiets her,” said Shay. “She’s a newbie so she can’t take too much in the way of pain. FYI.”

  “Unless of course you’re into screaming,” said Cameron. “Which as far as I recall, Lan
ce, you’re not. You much prefer an amiable sub.” He looked at me with affection. “We’re getting there.”

  “I like screaming,” said Lance. “Under the right circumstances.”

  We were in danger of seeing those clams I’d eaten.

  Lance’s eyelids lowered, as though he was running these scenarios offered up so willingly. “My wife will be pleased.”

  “No,” I told them. “I’m not going.”

  “Is she usually like this?” said Lance. “I thought you’d trained her?”

  “I’ve got this.” Cameron gestured an apology. “Mia, your silence is requested. As is your obedience.” He handed me my handbag. “Conduct yourself accordingly.”

  That threat back in the shower about his reputation hanging on my ability to obey made me seethe.

  Tears stung my eyes. “I don’t have my pills,” I whispered, my inner voice screaming you don’t need them.

  Cos you’re not fucking going.

  Lance frowned. “Pills?”

  “Contraception,” said Cameron, waving it off.

  So much for effing diplomacy.

  “Mia, I’ll have them sent to Lance’s hotel,” said Cameron.

  “Claridges,” said Lance, and his eyebrow twitched.

  “Lovely hotel,” said Cameron. “Great afternoon tea. Maybe we could meet up this week. Check in on how things are going?”

  I just needed to get from here to the door and out into the fresh air. I’d worry about where to go next once I was free from this debacle.

  “Ms. Lauren.” Cameron lowered his voice to a whisper. “Of all my fucktoys, you’re my—”

  He blinked at me through red wine trickling down his face. Scarlet liquid trailed and soaked his shirt, but the napkin on his lap caught the rest.

  Of course this wasn’t the first time I’d spilled wine on him. Though the last time had been an accident. This time not so much. Cameron had acted so calm last time, so kind, even taking the blame for my mishap.

  Judging from his flaring nostrils, this time would be different.

  He glared at me. “Don’t think I won’t spank you.”

  “Just you try.”

  “Mia,” snapped Shay. “Apologize.”

  “I’ll smash these plates.” I reached for mine.

  Shay’s strong fingers wrapped around my wrist and pulled my hand back.