Cameron's Control (18 page)

“No.”

“Our relationship is the most important part of my life.”

“What about your family?”

“You and I couldn’t be more right. They don’t know me like you do.”

She threw herself into my arms. “I’ll always love you, Cameron. You save my life every day.”

I dipped my head and kissed her. “Mia, love is just a word. That’s all. I promise to show you how I feel by reminding you each day I don’t take you for granted. I will honor you. Protect you. Shelter you from the storms before they even happen. I will worship you with my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.” I shook my head. “I’m fucking ridiculous. This, this is what you’ve done to me.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I promise to prove you’ve made the right decision.”

She beamed up at me. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We’re going to sleep together tonight.”

I let out a long sigh and hugged her to me.

We snuggled on one of the wicker couches and enjoyed the view from the deck, watching the world float by. This, our perfect escape.

We spent the rest of the day sunbathing, napping, and snuggling, and with the wind in our hair and the Ricochet’s gentle rocking it felt like we’d found paradise.

We dined on lobster and shrimp salad, and no fun day out would be perfect without chocolate profiteroles. We fed them to each other, licking sauce off our fingertips, and savoring the taste of chilled champagne.

Afterward, Mia lay alongside me on the wicker lounger, resting her head on my chest, and l let out a long sigh of satisfaction.

“I want to ask you something important,” I said.

She peered up at me. “Yes?”

“Would you be interested in taking over as director of my charities?”

She shifted to better look at me.

“I’m busy with work and Chrysalis, and I’m considering taking on a few more commitments with Cole Tea. I need someone I can trust. These organizations are close to my heart and I know you’re the best person for the job.”

“Cameron, I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes, would be nice.”

Her face was flushed with excitement. “I would love to.”

“Good.” I hugged her into me. “That makes me happy.”

“That’s all I want.”

“Then admit we’ll always be honest with each other, kind, and quickly forgive each other’s indiscretions.”

“Indiscretions?”

“When we argue.”

“Why would we argue?”

“Because we disagree?”

“I think we’re too perfect to argue.”

“Is this you trying to be funny?” I tickled her again.

Mia squirmed. “Well as you always like to be in charge, I doubt I’ll have much say in the matter.”

“Glad we clarified that.”

“If I’m going to be running your charity I’m bound to have an opinion on things. So, you’ll have to give me some lenience to make decisions on my own.”

“I’m sure I can make allowances.”

“Thank you for encouraging me.”

I planted a kiss to her nose. “I want to see you fulfilled.”

Her grin dazzled. “So sometimes I’ll get to boss you around?”

I slid my hand beneath her bikini thong. “What do you think?”

Her jolt of pleasure revealed I’d hit the spot with my fingers.

“You were saying, Ms. Lauren?”

“We were discussing my obedience, sir,” she breathed.

With my right hand, I grabbed a handful of golden locks and tugged her head back. “And your conclusion?” My fingertips flicked her faster.

Her wetness fired off my arousal.

“You are my master in all things.”

“Good girl,” I whispered into her ear. “And how do good girls get rewarded?”

She trembled against me, her face pressed against my chest, her groan of pleasure going on and on and on…

I plunged two fingers deep inside her, my thumb strumming her now, and she let out a deep throated cry as she climaxed—

Her endless moans were drowned out by the ocean.

CHAPTER 17

I’D CREATED A monster.

This sophisticated and exhaustively analytical psychotherapist who excelled with her patients by treating them with her certain brand of conciseness was now a royal pain in my ass.

Dr. Laura Raul, M.D. had come to work in my clinic right out of Yale, after a brief interview where Laura had wowed me with her comprehension of Jung’s hypotheses, her ability to grasp complex theories, and her valedictorian status, along with her openness. All pointed to a healthy working relationship.

Right up until this moment.

Just yesterday I’d escaped to paradise on a yacht with Mia, and today I was back on dry land and regretting ever stepping off that boat.

“You’ve gone very quiet,” said Laura.

“I’m thinking,” I said. “Ruminating.”

“Ruminating? About what?”

“Why I’m here.”

It was the end of a long clinic day for us both and it wasn’t unusual to take the occasional debriefing, but the mood was somehow different. Sitting opposite Laura, and uncomfortable that we were in her office and not mine, I too nursed a mug of coffee and mirrored the way Laura held hers, fully aware she knew it too.

It was out of character for her to flirtatiously hitch up her skirt like this, up above her knees to reveal her stocking tops. This hint of sensuality suggested a recent life change—the new affair kind. She’d kicked off her heels and tucked her legs beneath her. Her white shirt was crinkled, revealing she’d come from her new lover’s house this morning and not her own Westwood Condo.

My thoughts returned to Mia, who’d spent the morning volunteering at Charlie’s Soup Kitchen, and I couldn’t wait to see her. Leo had texted me updates every half hour, per my request, and I didn’t care how obsessed I looked.

Shay’s men were also following her and I only hoped she hadn’t realized. Still, Mia’s potential annoyance was worth this peace of mind. The threat out there still lingered. And it darkened my heart that it always would.

Laura looked as equally distracted.

I’d left the door open to maintain an air of informality. Patricia, our secretary, wouldn’t be able to overhear our conversation from her reception desk and, in here, Laura would know I didn’t consider this a session.  

I loosened my tie.

Laura kept her office an uncomfortable 73 degrees.

This sophomoric technique of overly heating the room, lulling the client and prying open their subconscious as though opening a clam, caused me to clench my jaw.

Yeah, no fucking way.

Giving a deep sigh of satisfaction, and playing along like this was all very cozy and I liked nothing more than talking about my personal life, I gestured for her to continue.

Laura smirked as though readying for the challenge to face off with me.

“We were talking about Mia?” she said.

“Nothing more to add,” I said. “She’s doing wonderfully.” Of course I could have shared there had been a real breakthrough with unlocking Mia’s darkest memory, and that she was now thriving as my lover, but this I chose to hold back.

Using BDSM to cure a patient had been a well-kept secret, right up until the board of psychiatry held a trial to inquire on its efficacy and predictably question its legality.

I’d dodged that bullet thanks to Mia’s ingenuity. Her waywardness had its benefits, apparently.  

“How did you do it, Cam?” said Laura.  “How did you heal Ms. Lauren?”

“I offered a safe and nurturing environment. One where Ms. Lauren felt comfortable to open up and talk.”

Kept her locked up in a dungeon for days. That chain around her neck was a message to her subconscious that it had kept her tethered long enough. During her confinement I’d fed her, bathed her, and made love to her. Out of her sight, I’d analyzed the documents collated from her past. Mia had believed her entire life she’d shot herself up with cocaine and ridden the high while her mother lay dying of a drug overdose in the other room. I’d dissected the evidence gathered from Mia’s home town and deciphered the clues, proving without a doubt she’d been injected by her mother’s dealer.

A gentle easing of her recollection of that day, a delicate handling of the id, one of the three divisions of the psyche.

The verdict: Not guilty.

I’d freed the butterfly from the chrysalis and ensured her pathway to peace. The treatment had been radical, yes, but Mia was a changed woman because of it.

I let out a long sigh. “Mia responded well to traditional therapy.”

Traditional, if your name was Carl Jung.

Laura went to speak.

“Who is he, Laura?” I said.

“Who?”

“Your latest conquest.”

“It’s a little complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?”

She took a sip. “Why does it have to be that way?”

I took a sip. “Why does it have to be that way?”

“I expect more from the great Dr. Cole.”

I grinned. “Apparently the sex is great.”

She rolled her eyes. “How do you do that?”

“How do I do it, Laura?”  

She narrowed her gaze. “My desire to talk about myself, my need for your validation, my post climatic blush.”

“I see everything.”

She pursed her lips seductively. “And I see everything too, Cam.”

No, she did not.

“Ah, well there you have me, Laura.” I took another sip.

“McKenzie,” she said.

“What about her?”

“We’ve had several sessions. She’s been very forthcoming about your relationship.”

“I’m not comfortable with where this is going,” I said. “We’re heading into personal territory.”

She gestured to her desk. “I’m comfortable with you reviewing McKenzie’s file. I’d appreciate your opinion.”

“I’m not sitting in a session with her, Laura.”

“Hear me out.”

I gestured I’d listen at least.

“You both experienced a trauma. You both need to heal. This is a great opportunity for you, Cameron, to…”

Don’t fucking say it.

Laura fidgeted. “I know you hate the term closure, but McKenzie has questions and you have the answers.”

“What does she want to know?” I said flatly.

“Face to face, Cameron.”

“I don’t see what good it will do.”

“I have determined this is what’s best for my client. You and I both utilize unusual techniques.” She lowered her gaze. “You more than me. Trust me on this, I know what my patient needs and I’m asking you—”

“Laura—”

She raised her hand to cut me off. “Let me finish, please. My client is undergoing infertility treatment. She has residual post stress that needs resolution if her treatment stands any chance of success.”

“You can’t pin her inability to conceive on me—”

“Perhaps at a subconscious level?”

With a shake of my head, I refused to accept such a warped view. “I didn’t see a ring.”

“You saw her?” she said. “When?”

“Evidently you haven’t spoken with Zie since New Year?” I said. “I bumped into her at a party. We chatted. Briefly. Not long enough for her to tell me she was married or in a relationship.” I shrugged. “She didn’t want children when we were together.”

“I’ve taken the privilege of arranging a session.”

“When?”

“How does in half an hour sound?”

Like hell.

“You went ahead and booked this without speaking with me first?” I seethed. “Perhaps I have an appointment—”

“I know you well, Cameron. I know your routine.”

“Really?”

“Why, yes. You run two or three miles every morning,” she said.

Make that six to ten, depending.

“You attend clinic in the morning,” she said. “Then afterwards you visit your private men’s club.”

Chrysalis. The place Laura didn’t know existed.

She gave a nod of confirmation. “While at the club, you play a round of tennis and share drinks with your friends.”

More accurately, while at Chrysalis I check in with the doms and their subs and then visit the stables, where young men with pony fetishes role play with tails inserted in their asses and hour long erections. Men who’d be otherwise condemned by society, and the only way they function at an optimum level in life is to fulfill their penchant in a safe and nurturing environment, with Dominic as their stable master.

Laura pulled her legs out from under her and sat squarely facing me. “And then you go home to that big house of yours and have wild, unadulterated sex with some young woman you’ve seduced. A woman who probably won’t hear from you again after you’ve turned her life upside down.”

Before Mia, I’d wandered my Beverly Hills mansion alone, the only respite those cherished fencing sessions with Shay. Or delving into my beloved books in my library in an effort to hold back the loneliness.

“God you’re good, Laura.”

“Cam, I need you to respect my judgment call on this one, okay?”

Fuck.

“We’ll get this out of the way and you can both move on. She can move on.”

I glanced at my watch. Mia would be here soon and I hated the idea she might bump into Zie.

“Push your plans, Cameron,” she said. “We only need an hour. Then it’s over.”

“And Zie will leave me alone?”

“Yes, I believe this will go a long way to making that happen.”

I relented with a nod.

“Well done,” she said.

Tugging on my shirt cuffs one at a time, I ran through all the ways I could have handled this better, like questioning Laura on why she’d refurnished her office in this European flair, or where she’d purchased that print by Lilly Drey, the artist having a knack for capturing the curves of voluptuous women.