“You deserve that too.”
“I’m a lost cause.”
“I don’t believe that.”
He stared straight ahead. “I lied when I told you I have a black hole here.” He rested his hand on his heart.
I waited for him to continue, scared of his words threatening never to reach me or perhaps it was the fact they would that tore me up.
“There is nothing here.” He held my gaze. “I haven’t felt an emotion in six years.” He rested his head back. “Now does that sound like the kind of man you want to be with?”
Unsteady on my feet, I made my way to the front door, trying to remember where I’d left my keys. There came a sinking feeling when I remembered I’d left my car at the manor. I was stranded.
Next to where Richard left his car keys sat a stack of mail and right on top of the unopened envelopes was one from Cameron. His Venice Beach address was written in the top left hand corner. With shaking hands, I fumbled with the straps of my shoes and grabbed the keys to the Rubicon.
CAMERON’S WESTSIDE HOME SAT right on the front of Venice Beach’s boardwalk.
These eclectic properties were apparently worth millions despite their modest size. On the other side of Cameron’s gray painted home lay a promenade lined with strolling tourists, vendors selling homemade wares, as well as artists, poets, and pot heads. The place buzzed with its own unique arty flavor.
I knocked several times on his front door.
After no answer, I tried the doorknob and to my astonishment it opened.
“Hello?” I stepped inside the slim entranceway, questioning Cameron’s sense of security and hoping this really was his place.
The decor leaned toward an eerie sparseness. Brick walls with their numerous black and white prints gave a mere suggestion someone had tried to make the place homey. The minimalist theme of a couple of armchairs and a leather sofa gave an airy feel. Several barstools ran along a kitchen counter, though the open-plan kitchen itself looked bare. A fridge, a coffeemaker, and a flashy microwave were the only appliances. Tucked in the corner of the countertop was a full wine rack with two long stemmed glasses beside it.
Voices carried from upstairs. I moved in that direction, hoping I’d gotten the address right.
Beyond this sitting room lay a courtyard with patio furniture in the center. Tourists ambled along the pathway on the other side of that short wall and beyond that lay the beach. I wondered why anyone would want to be so close to so many strangers wandering by. Within the courtyard, resting up against a wooden fence, were two surfboards side by side. The first was a dark blue Billabong board and next to it rested a slightly shorter one with a mermaid fading away from years of use. A surreal moment came over me as I recognized it.
“Mia?”
I spun round to see Tara standing in a doorway. She wore a skinny bikini, her hair wet and tangled from what looked like a morning of surfing.
“Tara?” I said. “What are you doing here?”
Cameron appeared behind her. He’d wrapped a plush white towel around his waist, perhaps from having just taken a shower. He looked so different from the Cameron I’d seen last night, when he’d dressed in a tux and hosted his party, or more appropriately an evening of debauchery.
I felt like a criminal. “The door was open.”
“Everything all right?” said Cameron.
“You’re friends?” I said.
Which was ridiculous, with Tara standing there and with her having worked at Enthrall. She’d also spent time with Cameron at my housewarming. These two looked like they really knew each other.
“It’s not what you think.” Her frown deepened as she took in my clothes.
Richard’s shirt and shorts looked odd on me, and from the way Cameron eyed me up he thought so too. I wondered if he could see I’d been crying.
The quiet made me feel awkward, and at the same time I felt upset for Bailey.
“We’re just friends,” said Tara, as though reading my mind. “I come down here to surf. That’s all.”
My gaze took in Cameron and his bare chest, his messed up hair, and his confident air that could stun a Stingray.
“Coffee?” He edged past me and sauntered into the kitchen.
Unable to grasp this terrible revelation, I turned away from her and faced Cameron, watching him place a filter in the machine. He opened a packet of coffee and poured the grounds into the filter. With a flick of a switch, he had the machine brewing.
“How’s my best friend?” he said.
I managed a nod.
“Last night?” he said. “How did it go?”
“Good.” I recalled Richard and I making out on that sun lounger beneath the trees. Even though we didn’t go all the way it was still pretty dreamy.
Right up until our Hadron Collider crash this morning.
Cameron arranged three mugs on the countertop. “I’m delighted to see you of course, but usually what follows a night of romance is breakfast with your beau.”
I neared the other side of the counter and sat on a barstool.
Tara stood right behind me. “I am going to tell her,” she said. “We only surf together. Tell her Cameron.”
He leaned on the counter. “Tara and I are only friends.”
“Tara, she knows you come down here all the time,” I said. “Why not mention him?”
“You know Bailey,” she said. “She’s so sensitive. She’s never going to understand why I want to spend time with a man.” Tara raised her hand. “We don’t do anything. We surf. Hangout.”
“Eat tacos,” added Cameron. “We do that.”
I stared at him to see if I could validate what she was telling me.
He merely gave a nod. “I didn’t know you knew about this place?”
“Where’s all your stuff?” I said.
“He doesn’t live here,” said Tara. “He lives at the manor.”
“Sometimes,” he added softly.
“Chrysalis?” I spun round to face her. “Have you been there too?”
“I’m Bailey’s girlfriend but I’m not shackled to her.”
I looked from her to Cameron.
“We just surf,” said Cameron, pouring coffee into three mugs.
“I don’t want his penis going anywhere near me,” said Tara.
Cameron looked amused and paused mid-pour. “I’ll have you know there are many women who are rather partial to my penis.”
Tara curled her lips into a smile. She grabbed one of the mugs and wrapped her hands around it. “I didn’t want Bailey to give me an ultimatum and tell me it’s surfing with Cameron or her.”
“Maybe Bailey would want to come with you?” I said.
Tara shrugged. “Maybe.”
I took the mug offered by Cameron.
He took a sip from his. “Mia, let’s talk about why you’re here. Not that I’m not thrilled to see you. Last night I placed you in the hands of Malibu’s most eligible bachelor and right now I’m wondering why you’re at my breakfast bar and not his.”
My eyes stung with tears.
“Tara,” said Cameron. “Go take a shower.”
“What happened?” she said.
Cameron frowned at her. “Please.”
Tara folded her arms.
He waved her off.
Tara turned and made her way out. Cameron’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight and his intense stare slid back to me.
“Richard seemed upset this morning,” I said.
Cameron came around to my side and sat on the barstool opposite. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What did you do to him?” I said, still haunted by what Tara had told me about Cameron whipping Richard until he bled.
“Can you be more specific?”
I sucked in a sob. “You re-wired his brain.”
He frowned at me.
I felt self-conscious that Tara may hear. “Richard told me he doesn’t feel any emotions. At all.
“Ah.” Cameron slid
his mug to the side.
“I think you might have beaten all the life out of him.” I braced myself for his reaction.
“That’s why you’ve been crying?” he said calmly. “You had an argument with him?”
“A discussion. He told me what kind of hold you have on him.”
“He used those words?”
“No, he made it sound like you’re friends.”
“We are friends, Mia. We know each other very well. I’d never hurt him.”
“Did you beat him until he bled?”
Cameron reached for his mug.
Tara reappeared and made her way toward us. She’d not taken that shower. She sat on the barstool beside mine and said, “I told you that in confidence.”
Cameron rolled his eyes at her.
“So you admit it?” I snapped at him.
“Don’t you have milk in your coffee?” he said.
“What?” I shook myself out of my revelatory trance.
Cameron rose and rounded the counter, opening the fridge and removing a carton of skimmed milk. It seemed pretty empty in there other than that. He poured it into my drink. I hated him for dragging out this tension. His way of hoping to wriggle out of his guilt, no doubt.
“Tell her, Cameron,” said Tara.
He raised his hand. “I’m handling this.”
“No, I won’t have her accuse you of this,” she said. “When Richard came to L.A. he was drowning in grief—”
“Tara.” Cameron pointed to the door. “Now.”
She glared at me. “You don’t know anything. You’re putting pieces of the puzzle together and getting it all wrong.”
“Of course I could always sling you over my shoulder, Tara,” he said. “And carry you out.”
Cameron and I were alone again.
His voice sounded calm, controlled. “Firstly, I never divulge personal information about clients, friends, or acquaintances. In fact, this conversation we’re having now is private. What I will tell you is Richard and I are very close. We have a great deal of love and respect—”
“He told me he’s not capable of love.” I swiped away at my tears. “He told me he’s dead inside.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“Nothing. Why won’t he talk to me?”
“I’d feel more comfortable discussing this with him present.”
“Why did Lotte warn me not to talk to you?” I pointed an accusatory finger his way.
He looked surprised. “Those were her exact words?”
Again he’d wanted me to clarify. I wondered if this was how he manipulated his submissives.
I quickly added, “She warned me not to engage with you.”
He gave a thin smile. “I’m the director of Chrysalis. As you’ve discovered. Maybe that’s why.”
That tuft of dark hair on his bare chest, along with that chiseled musculature of his torso, were a visceral reminder that this man oozed sexuality in the most alluring way. His heady cologne did nothing to ease this moment.
His body pressing me against the wall and stirring forbidden desires that had lain dormant. A dark craving erupting.
The way he stared at me now. His gaze moving to my mouth and lingering. The way he shook his head as though trying to shake off a thought.
The way he made me feel when I was around him.
Cameron lowered his gaze. “What happened between us last night was a failing on my part.” He shrugged. “Though, as you’re here I’m hoping it means you’ve forgiven me.”
“Nothing happened.”
He caressed the tension out of his brow. “Perhaps it is best we remember it that way.”
“Please tell me why Richard’s so hard to get through to.” I wiped my tears with my sleeve, his sleeve.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve become so anxious lately,” I admitted. “I can’t eat. I’m having trouble sleeping. Being around Richard makes me nervous.”
Cameron pursed his lips, his expression full of sympathy. “I see.” He reached over and took my hands in his. “I. Would. Never. Hurt. Richard. I would never do anything to him that he didn’t really want me to do to him.”
“Did he really want you to whip him that hard?”
“That’s not my style.”
“Then who did that to him?”
“Mia,” his tone was soft and strangely comforting.
“Well he didn’t do that to himself!”
He let go of my hands and broke my gaze.
He did that to himself?
Stunned, I tried to read the truth in Cameron’s face and find the answers. Everyone around me seemed to know what was going on with Richard except me. Even Tara. Despite being near the ocean there hung a heaviness in the air, an invisible fog sucking up all the oxygen.
Cameron peered toward the passing tourists. “When this becomes too much I return to the hills and lose myself in the manor.” He took a sip.
I slumped back onto the barstool.
“Hungry?” he said. “Want a bagel?”
“No, thank you.”
“So, how did you leave Richard?”
“He was playing Tomb Raider,” I said. “While wearing that ridiculous scuba mask.”
Cameron’s mug hit the counter and coffee splashed.
Tara reappeared. “Can I come out of hiding now?”
I ignored her and turned to Cameron. “What’s wrong?”
He headed off across the room. “I’ll get dressed. I’m taking you back.” He stopped by the door. “Did you happen to see an oxygen tank?”
“No.” I swapped a wary glance with Tara. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” Cameron disappeared.
Tara sat beside me.
I thought back to my housewarming party and couldn’t remember seeing anything unusual about the interaction between these two that night. Though to be honest I’d not been looking for it.
“I’ll speak to Bailey,” said Tara. “Please don’t say anything to her.”
I gave a reluctant nod.
“Your eye make-up is really heavy,” she said.
Having not had the chance to remove it, I probably looked like a panda. How embarrassing. Having cried all the way here, I’d made it worse. Cameron didn’t need his psychological skills to work out I was a mess.
“Did you go to the party last night?” said Tara.
“Yes.”
“Really? How was it?”
My face blanched with embarrassment.
“Apparently they serve great food,” she said. “Did you check out the spanking room?”
I frowned at her, wondering how she knew there was even such a thing.
“Did you see anything?” she said. “Anyone doing it?”
I took a sip of coffee.
Cameron reappeared wearing jeans and a white shirt. He grabbed his car keys and threw me a smile. “Let’s go visit our friend.” He waved at Tara. “See you later.”
“Later,” she called after him and threw me a wave goodbye.
I waved back and trotted behind Cameron. “He’s not likely to try something dangerous is he?” I couldn’t work out why I felt like it had been me that pushed him away. “Should I have stayed?”
“Don’t ever second guess yourself,” said Cameron, as he led me out on the street.
He opened his Porches’ passenger car door.
I climbed in, sinking into the leather seat, the irony not lost that we were leaving behind the Rubicon. Cameron drove fast, dodging pedestrians and other cars that were driving too slow for a Sunday morning. We sped along the Pacific Coast Highway and he made small talk, gesturing to points of interest and doing anything, it seemed, to not bring up why we were heading back to Richard’s so fast.
In less than twenty minutes we’d arrived.
Cameron turned off the engine and twisted in his seat to face me. “Let me talk to him.”
I rubbed my fingertips over my lips nervously.
He tugge
d on my shirtsleeve. “This is his?”
I gave a nod.
“What happened last night?” Cameron peered over at Richard’s front door.
“We cuddled under the stars.” I shrugged. “Nothing really happened. Well we kissed. And stuff. In the morning he told me…”
He waited for me to continue.
“He didn’t want my first time to be with someone like him,” I whispered it.
Cameron sighed. “It’s not you, Mia.”
“I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”
“No,” he said. “He’s terrified he might hurt you.”
“I told him we could take it slow.”
Cameron looked straight ahead. “He opened up about his lifestyle?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He can only have a relationship with someone willing to be his submissive.” The words sounded scratchy coming out.
“Did you give his offer any consideration?”
“Kind of. Only he mentioned only taking on a sub who is already trained.” I gave him a sideways glance.
“Ah.”
“I do want to be with him. I’m not sure I can handle the pain bit though.”
“Pain enhances pleasure.”
I nibbled on a fingernail.
Cameron removed the keys. “Have you guys talked about what you both want from a relationship?”
“Um, no.”
“S & M scares you?”
I studied his window wipers; even they looked expensive.
“Richard sensed your doubt,” he said.
I let out a long sigh.
Cameron gave a nod of understanding. “Richard’s worldly. He’s well-travelled. He went backpacking alone around the far east when he was twenty. Richard’s smart, funny, and kind. He could really be good for you. Teach you so much.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Exactly,” he said. “It’s not just about great sex.”
My mind drifted into Richard’s home, recalling those carved pieces of furniture he may have bought during his travels. As well as his walls spotted here and there with framed photos of happy foreigners, offering glimpses into their culture. I wondered at what age Richard decided he liked pain.
“What happened to you?” I said. “What was your childhood trauma?” I even amazed myself with that one. “You know, why are you a--”
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