Enthrall

by Vanessa Fewings

  A few clicks of the buttons later and she’d recorded her show. Bailey grabbed a notebook from her bookshelf and sat back down.

  “How does this sound?” I began, gesturing for her to write. “Dear Mr. Booth.”

  “Too formal. Call him Richard. People respond to their own names.”

  “Yes, good. Richard—” I stood up and faced Bailey. “I may not have the experience you believe you need.” I shook my head. “I need.” I motioned to erase that. “What I do have is honesty. I’m able to put people at ease--”

  “That’s good.” Bailey scribbled away.

  “Your clients need to feel comfortable. Safe. I can do that.” I took a swig of wine and placed my glass back on the table.

  “One more sip and you’re staying,” she said.

  “I’ll stay.”

  “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow.”

  “Thank you.” I raised my hands to gesture my next thought.

  A key turned in the lock and Tara came in. Despite being drenched in sweat she still looked fresh. Her tall, lithe body appeared ridiculously fit in her workout gear.

  Tara’s Indian mother, Mrs. Razor, was a talented violinist who’d been discovered in Calcutta by her father, a famous conductor. He’d married her and brought her back to live with him in L.A. Tara had inherited her mother’s exotic complexion and her father’s forthrightness; a captivating mixture of east meets west.

  Bailey had fallen head over heels with Tara on their first date. It really did seem mutual. That’s why all this talk of Australia was a surprise. Tara hadn’t come out to her parents yet. A sore point between her and Bailey.

  “Hey babe.” Bailey greeted her.

  “Hi.” Tara dropped her workout gear by the door and came over to kiss Bailey’s cheek. “I can’t wait to hear all about your job, Mia. How are the Mistresses? Isn’t Richard dreamy?”

  “Hey,” Bailey chastised her.

  “As if.” Tara rolled her eyes. “Well?”

  “They kind of fired me,” I said.

  Her face fell and she sunk to the floor in front of us and crossed her legs.

  “She misspelled a word in a letter.” Bailey told her.

  “Weird. Did it change the nature of the letter?” said Tara.

  “No. Anyway, Cameron told me he’d have a word with him,” I said. “He thinks he can change Richard’s mind.”

  There was no way I’d tell either of them about the Venus balls and Richard hinting at this as the real grounds for firing me. This whole thing felt too embarrassing as it was.

  Tara held Bailey’s gaze. “I’ll grab my laptop and we’ll take a look on Craigslist.”

  Bailey held up the notebook. “She’s got a second chance. She has to come up with a good reason why they should rehire her.” She gestured to the kitchen. “Pour yourself a glass and help us out.”

  “I need to re-hydrate.” Tara turned to face me. “Richard’s an old soul. He’s also stubborn. I hate to tell you this but he’s not likely to change his mind.”

  I felt sick, though despite this I reached for my glass and gulped it.

  Bailey raised the notebook. “Then why would Cameron have her write this?”

  “Can you talk to him?” I said.

  “We got on great,” said Tara. “But he’s still upset with me that I left. He hasn’t returned any of my texts.” She peered over at Bailey. “I’ve checked on him a couple of times.”

  “He should be happy for you,” said Bailey.

  “Richard’s complex.” She sat back down and gestured to my wine.

  I handed it over.

  Tara took a sip. “So much for re-hydrating.”

  “What are you not telling us?” said Bailey.

  “This is absolutely private,” said Tara. “Not to be repeated under any circumstances.”

  I gestured for my wine back.

  Tara took another gulp and handed it over. “About a month ago Cameron and Richard disappeared into the dungeon for well over an hour.”

  “Gay?” said Bailey.

  “No.” Tara shot her a look. “Listen. When they came back up I noticed blood stains on the back of Richard’s shirt. Cameron had done something nasty to him.”

  “Cameron’s a psychiatrist,” I said. “That doesn’t sound right.”

  Tara rummaged through her rucksack and withdrew a bottle of water. “I’m just telling you what I saw.”

  “You told me those dungeon walls are all painted red,” said Bailey. “Maybe they’d been repainted and he leaned back on it?”

  “Did you ever go down there?” I said, needing to hear more.

  “Once.” Tara unscrewed the cap and took a swing of spring water. She used the bottle to motion to us. “The blood was beneath his shirt.” She raised her gaze to the ceiling. “Paint.”

  “That guy’s messed up.” Bailey turned to me. “I think it’s best you’re out of there.”

  “Cameron’s actually kind of cool,” said Tara. “So is Richard. Did he really fire you over a misspelling? That’s so strange.”

  I broke her gaze.

  “What really happened?” said Bailey.

  I slumped back. “A client gave me Venus balls as a gift.”

  “I don’t see the problem,” said Tara. “Unless...”

  “You didn’t know what they were,” said Bailey.

  My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  “Richard realized how inexperienced she is,” said Tara, cringing.

  “You don’t get it,” I said, despair threatening to eat me alive. “I have to come up with an extra $600.00 a month. The billing department at Cedars have threatened to cut off my step-mom’s treatment otherwise.”

  “They can’t do that,” said Tara. “Can they?”

  “I don’t want to find out,” I said. “It’s the best place for her.”

  “Maybe they’d transfer her care to a city hospital?” said Bailey.

  Tara gave me a look of sympathy.

  “I have no choice but to get that job back,” I said. “Nowhere else pays the same.”

  “Well,” said Tara, thoughtfully. “There is something you can do.” She shook her head. “You’re not going to like it though.”

  “She’s not becoming a stripper,” snapped Bailey.

  Tara threw her an amused glance and zeroed in on me. “Richard’s into extremes. Do something that will be so unexpected you’ll blow his mind.”

  “His mind and not him, right?” Bailey’s stare jumped between us.

  “Show yourself to him.” Tara tilted her head. “Elegantly, of course.”

  “You mean tell him how bad things have been for me lately?” I said.

  Tara frowned. “No, I mean show yourself to him.” She pointed between my legs.

  “What?” said Bailey. “We are talking about Mia Lauren, the girl who hates even looking down there.”

  I cringed when that revelation came out.

  “Really?” said Tara. “We’ve got to get you a toy.”

  I gulped more wine, not sure we were on the same page.

  “I know this man,” said Tara. “Richard’s into risk taking. Do this and you’ll get his attention and you’ll prove you’re more than capable of working there.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Bailey sounded suspicious.

  “Put the notebook away,” said Tara. “What I’m about to tell you to do will be easy to remember. And it’ll guarantee you’ll get your job back.”

  I downed the rest of the wine.

  “READY?”

  Asked Cameron. He arrived at Enthrall right after me and buzzed me in.

  Hands shaking, heart pounding, I forced a smile. “Absolutely.”

  “You’ll do great.” He led me into the elevator.

  Cameron looked clean cut and had effortlessly dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt. He couldn’t even make that look casual. Despite his confident posture offering some reassurance, his close proximity made me nervous as his gaze swept up and down my short tre
nchcoat. His focus never wavered and it made me wonder if he ever took a day off from studying people. Stepping out, I tried to keep up with his determined pace.

  “You never gave me your car insurance yesterday,” I said.

  “I’ll put it on mine,” he said. “After careful consideration, I realized it was my fault.”

  “Um…no, I think I backed into you.”

  “We’ll agree to disagree. How about that?” He glanced at his watch. “I know a great body shop. I’ll have them check out your Mini while they’re working on mine. We’ll get them to fix that oil leak too. How does that sound?” He gave a nod to confirm he liked this plan and opened the door to the staff hallway, gesturing for me to go ahead.

  Taken aback by his kindness, my spirit lifted and I almost forgot what I’d come here for.

  Was I really going through with this?

  As I passed the reception desk, it felt eerie to see no one there. That should be you sitting there, I mused, trying to distract myself from having to face Richard again and the impending drama I was about summon. Excitement mixed with trepidation spiraled tingles in my chest.

  “I must warn you.” Cameron paused outside Richard’s office. “He doesn’t know about this.”

  “At tennis yesterday, you didn’t mention it?”

  “He wasn’t really in the mood. And you know what I thought? Hell, why not just surprise him.”

  “What if he’s angry I’m back?” I covered my face with my hands.

  “Something tells me he’ll be happy to see you.” Cameron reached for the handle.

  I grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

  He glanced at my hands. “Where’s your letter? Leave it on his desk afterwards.”

  “I saw Tara last night,” I said. “She was Enthrall’s secretary before me.”

  “I know Tara.”

  “She told me the letter wouldn’t be enough.”

  “It’s worth a try.” He faced the door. “Speak from your heart.”

  The door flew open and Richard’s stern demeanor met us.

  “Hey Richard.” Cameron took my hand and guided me past him.

  Richard turned to face us. “What’s going on?”

  “Please, sit down,” said Cameron.

  Richard didn’t look happy and ignored his friend’s invitation to sit.

  You can do this, I told myself, rallying my courage.

  What was the worst that could happen? It’s not like he could fire me. He’d already done that. Tara seemed pretty convinced this would work and she was the one to get me the job in the first place.

  “Mia has something she wants to say to you,” said Cameron.

  Richard strolled back to his desk and spun around to face us, leaning against it, his expression taut. He folded his arms across his chest.

  Cameron frowned at him and tilted his head toward me. Richard gave Cameron a what the hell kind of look.

  Back in Bailey’s apartment, going over the plan with her and Tara, this had felt doable. Madness, yes, but possible. Yet here, now, standing opposite Richard and his fierceness made me question my ability to pull this off. This had to be how it felt when a tanker truck hit your car in one of those freak accidents you see replaying on the news. The kind you think will never happen to you. Very comparable.

  Cameron moved closer. “Mia, whenever you’re ready.” He gave an assured gesture to Richard. “Give her a second.”

  Bailey’s words found me again. “Jump in, like you’re at a cold swimming pool and you know that once you’re swimming you’ll love it.”

  “Or drown,” I think I’d answered her; how apt that was.

  My mind wandered further, as though trying to locate the courage I’d left back in their apartment.

  “These guys get up to all kinds of things, trust me,” Tara had told me. “Nothing shocks them. Think of this as speaking their language.”

  “Mia,” said Cameron, shaking me from my daydream.

  I rummaged inside my handbag and brought out an iPod. “Put this on, please.” I handed it over Cameron and dropped my bag onto the chair.

  “Sure thing.” Cameron beamed at Richard and headed over to the sound system at the back of the room.

  Masked Ball by Jocelyn Pook burst out of the surround sound speakers and filled the room with a deep bass rhythm. I unbuttoned my trenchcoat, slipped if off my shoulders, and threw it over the back of one of the leather armchairs. My short tartan skirt may have looked out of place for autumn but neither Richard or Cameron seemed to notice. Despite the coolness of the room, my boots held some warmth and gave me just enough of the edgy confidence I needed to pull this off.

  My heart pounded so hard inside my chest; my breathing was just short of panicked.

  Standing in the center, I steadied myself. “Richard I do belong here. You know it and I know it.”

  His gaze locked on mine with an unmatched fervor.

  “And I can prove it.” I glanced over at Cameron to let him know I was ready.

  Cameron smiled back.

  Biting my lip, I lifted my skirt, tugging it around my waist and holding it there, revealing my black stockings and lace garter belt. From Richard’s face, he’d noticed I wasn’t wearing any panties.

  Richard swapped a glance with Cameron.

  “Huh,” murmured Cameron.

  “Master Richard, I want to apologize.” My fingers scrunched my skirt. “For that spelling mistake.” My other hand moved, ready to stroke myself just as Tara had told me to, but something flipped inside my chest and I froze. I’d come too far to go back and yet couldn’t proceed any further either. Trapped in some sensual halfway land, my cheeks burned and my breathing stifled. Aroused and yet...

  Richard’s frown deepened.

  Cameron neared me. “Show Richard how you’re going to do that.” Seamlessly Cameron saw where I’d planned on taking this and softened the moment with reassurance.

  “Cole, let’s talk outside,” whispered Richard.

  Cameron slid behind me and wrapped his left arm around my waist, hugging me back towards him. “Mia, let me touch you.”

  “Yes, please,” I said, trying to control my shaking hands, grateful he’d come to my rescue, giddy with the feel of his strong arm squeezing me back into him, against his firm chest.

  Cameron moved his other hand down over my belly, and lower. “Part your legs a little.”

  Feeling safe in his arms, I adjusted my footing, though when his fingers found me, sliding over that delicate cleft, I held my breath. Glancing down, he’d parted my nether lips to expose me further. Holding still for what felt like a lifetime, my heart quickening, my legs weakening, I let out the longest sigh.

  This wasn’t the plan.

  “This is merely a gesture,” said Cameron as he placed two fingers against my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure.

  It throbbed beneath his touch. With my mouth gaping, my fingernails dug into his left arm. Having never before been touched by a man down there, my mind tried to grasp these feelings, these sensations, this thrill causing spasms throughout my belly. His caressing brought waves of hypnotic pleasure.

  Richard’s expression hadn’t changed; his critical stare roamed over me.

  Say something.

  Cameron broke the silence. “This is an apology from Mia to prove how sorry she is.”

  My eyelids fluttered and I strained to keep my gaze upon Richard’s.

  Richard leaned back farther, his focus still upon Cameron’s fingertips moving over my sex. Richard’s gaze rose to meet mine only to return once again to his friend’s hand bringing me closer. This man really knew how to touch a woman.

  Something told me Richard would too.

  Tell me this pleases you; but I didn’t dare say it.

  “Mia, relax,” cooed Cameron.

  And I did, leaning back into him, concentrating hard on keeping this pout that Tara had instructed me to hold. Though back in her two bedroom it had sounded doable. Now however, with Cameron’s fingers mast
erfully stroking, circling, maintaining these stunning sensations I’d only ever read about, my lips trembled with emotion; a mixture of desire and exhilaration.

  “Do you want me to stop, Mia?” said Cameron.

  “No,” I managed faintly, breathlessly. “Don’t stop. Please.” My moan filled the room.

  Cameron’s fingers reached farther, though they didn’t enter me. They merely dipped into that moisture, using it to wet my arousal more, these tingles intensifying blissfully against his touch. I tried not to gape in ecstasy but Cameron’s expert flicking sped up and stole my breath away...

  Yes...

  His fingers cherished that part of me I’d never felt comfortable with until now. Feeling lightheaded, I rested my head back against his chest and surrendered, my eyelids straining to remain open, my mouth parted and desiring a kiss I knew would never find me, my gaze on Richard. Here, now, feeling more loved than I ever had I feared when this would end, never wanting Cameron to cease.

  “Oh, please.” I moaned again and a sob escaped.

  These two unobtainable men were sharing this exquisite moment.

  Surreal. Exotic. Mine.

  Swept away, touched so gently, so firmly, yet my innocence remained, my purity endured. Richard gave a ghost of a smile and his expression reminded me of a painting where the subject glimpses a miracle or even beyond the veil.

  Was he in awe?

  I knew I was.

  Electricity danced between us, this flirting with pleasure so intense I longed to share it with Richard as it unfolded. Silently, I tried to convey these feelings.

  This wanting...

  “Richard will tell you when you may come, Mia,” whispered Cameron.

  I gave a nod, feeling too ravaged by pleasure.

  The music’s cadence unfolded dramatically, and I was so lost I failed to tell who led who. Perhaps the notes were guiding me on or maybe it was the other way around, as though through the bass they found their way inside me.

  “Richard,” said Cameron, breaking his friend’s trance.

  Richard blinked with surprise and he tilted his head as though he too wanted this scene to play out forever, his expression full of wonder.

  “Mia.” Richard gave a simple gesture. “You may come.”

  Holding his stare, I conveyed without words that I came for him, my breathing ragged, my thighs shaking, my gasps transforming into groans of ecstasy. As though Cameron had delivered on an unspoken promise, he continued guiding me to that place of bliss, holding me suspended there, and I finally stepped over the threshold of surrendering and came hard, hoping somehow, someway, I’d found a place in their world. My eyelids squeezed shut as I went within, trembling all over. All sights and sounds dissipated, and my only awareness was this blinding heat of pleasure pulsing beneath his touch.