Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3) (23 page)

I looked up at Cameron, wondering if I’d done something wrong.

Cameron gave a nod of approval. “Now is a good time as any.”

“For what?” I said.

“For you to obey,” said Shay, his glare so intense it motivated my legs to move, and I broke away from Cameron and quick footed it into the sitting room.  

A flash of doubt swept over me.

“Take your coat off,” said Shay, and he slipped off his shoes and socks and threw them near the couch.

Silently, I pleaded with Cameron.  

Shay peeled off his sweater, revealing his six pack abs. He flexed his muscles to prove just how fit he was. His narrowed gaze settled on me.

“Mia,” said Cameron. “Shay’s seen you in your underwear. Don’t be bashful.”

“Are you both…” I couldn’t say it.

And to think Cameron was always calling me insatiable.

But two men…

“You have a dirty mind, missy,” said Cameron, smiling. “Take off your coat.”

Shay stepped forward and tugged at my belt, releasing it, then he set to work unbuttoning. “We need you agile.”

He removed it and he flung it on the couch right beside where Cameron was sitting.

Standing there in my corset, stockings, and thong, my arms covered my lace bra. That early morning chill soaked into my bones, despite the central heating. I tried to keep my panic at bay.

“It’s time we taught you self defense,” said Shay, grinning.

My hands shot to my hips and I frowned at them. These two bastards knew what I’d been thinking and they’d reveled in it.

I was going to kick me some Shay ass.

“I’m going to teach you to escape any assailant, no matter how tall or strong,” said Shay. “Even if he’s as strong as me. Though it’s unlikely he’d be as handsome.”

“Statistically,” said Cameron. “Virtually impossible.”

Shay flexed a bicep. “Chances are he won’t have these.”

“Nope, can’t see him having those,” said Cameron, chuckling.

“Will you get on with it,” I snapped.

A blur came at me.

I landed painlessly on my back on the carpet and stared up at the ceiling. I hadn’t even seen Shay approaching.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Cameron’s laugher came from the couch.

I pushed myself onto my elbows. “Not funny.”

Shay towered over me. “And so it begins.”

In typical ragdoll style, I was thrown all over the room by Shay. After an hour or so of trying to fight him off, I started to get the hang of the moves, mastering how to break the grip of my assailant, how to use an arm bar, and how to take the control of my attacker and get my power back.

In-between yawns, Cameron cheered me on.

He was always surprising me with new aspects of my education. I’d learned everything from the art of etiquette, how to play a round of tennis, how to host a dinner party, as well as my all time favorite, how to endure a thirty minute orgasm under his mastery with the elegance and obedience of a well trained submissive.

And now this.

It was impossible not to stare at Cameron in reverence for all he’d taught me.

“Mia, it’s time to get some sleep,” he said.

I’d been rubbing my eyes, burned out from all this adrenaline. And our nighttime romp in a pod on the London Eye had added to my exhaustion.

It was my turn to yawn.

“I need to get to the store to buy the ingredients for Christmas dinner,” said Cameron. “I’ll grab some sleep first too.”

“Are you cooking?” I said.

“We all are, Mia. You, me, and Shay.” He arched a brow. “Oh, and while you’re out shopping buy us some crackers.”

“Crackers?”

Shay shook his head in amusement. “You have a lot to learn, young one. A lot to learn.”

I giggled with excitement. “Are they cookies?”

“Christmas crackers are party decorations,” said Cameron. “No Christmas in good old Blighty is complete without them.”

“Blighty is a term of endearment for England,” explained Shay.

Crackers and Old Blightly--I really was in a foreign country even if it was similar to America.

“You are dismissed, Private Lauren,” said Shay.

I threw him a salute.

“Good job. Go get a couple of hours sleep before the shops open,” he said. “I’ll cook pancakes when you get up.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Your training will come in handy to fight for those last minute deals,” joked Cameron.

And perhaps when Lance made his next move.

From the way Cameron and Shay were looking at each other, I knew they were thinking that too.

CHAPTER 19

SHAY HAD THE driver take us to Piccadilly’s Fortnum and Mason store just after 10AM.

I burst through the doors with so much excitement I startled the doorman. What with the soft classic music playing in the background and the red carpet spreading out before me, and the incredible scents of delicious coffees and teas luring me in, it was all too much to be able to contain my excitement.  

This place was crowded with last minute shoppers. I eased my way through into the center of the store, happy that Shay had relented and let me have some privacy to roam without him trailing a few feet behind. I suspected he wasn’t far away. It was nice to have some alone time. I’d text him when I was done.

Full of happiness, I flew from floor to floor, mesmerized at all the wonderful things on sale that, for the first time in my life, I could afford. Fortnum and Mason was famous for being one of England’s most high end stores and I could see why.

Deciding what gifts to get my favorite men in the world was going to be a challenge. They had everything they needed and could afford anything they wanted, so I was going to have to give it some real thought.

I soon found the food hall, and it didn’t take me long to discover the chocolate counter filled to the brim with the most beautifully made tempting creations I’d ever seen. I strolled up and down, admiring the unending display.

Spread out before me was a veritable chocolate lover’s dream, the choice too mind blowing to settle on just one treat. George, the official chocolatier, came to the rescue and helped me pick out their best selection of treats.

As George took his time easing each one off the china display plates and placed them lovingly in a blue box, he went on to explain that those pots of honey over there, behind us on the central table, had been made by bee’s that were right now making the stuff on the store roof apiaries.

Wide eyed, I stood there mesmerized as George told me that Fortnum and Mason had their own beekeepers. I handed over my credit card to pay, and while I waited for George to run it I sniffed the box. I also splurged on one of the honey pots, thinking it would make a perfect gift for Dr. Finely.

This was the first shopping high I’d ever had.

I found a pyramid display of Christmas crackers. They looked like individually wrapped oversized candy wrappers. They were ridiculously expensive and I couldn’t quite see the purpose of them. Still, Cameron had asked me to get them, so I placed a box into my shopping basket.

Strolling around the coffee and tea store, I breathed in the rich scent of beans and leaves all mixed up into a delicious combination. These caffeine and decaf teas were offered as teabags or loose leaves. Their expensive price tags proved these were the very best money could buy.

Stunned, I blinked at the shelves.

The Cole name was stamped on packets of tea that ran along their own shelf. My gaze drifted along the display until it fell on a luxury selection of coffees with the same exact insignia. A Swirling italic T and a C.

My thoughts flashed back to that coffee house we’d stopped outside yesterday when Cameron had hopped out the car and bought us all drinks. I recognized the logo from the store front as well as the cups. I thought back to all those coffee houses back in American carrying the same branding.

Oh. My. God.

Cameron’s family also owned ‘Tempest Coffees.’

No wonder Richard hinted at Cameron being a billionaire.

How many times had Bailey and I stopped off in one of those stores and bought ourselves a coffee. They were everywhere, on every corner. You couldn’t go three blocks without seeing a Tempest Coffee House.  

Funnily enough, that first day I’d sipped Earl Grey with Cameron, right after I’d accidentally backed into his car, he’d taken me into a competing Coffee Bean. Perhaps it had been his way of hiding his secret from me.

I made my way toward the escalator, nervous Shay night have caught my reaction to this revelation. Shay and Cameron both knew I had no idea about the coffee side to Cameron’s family business. Now it all made sense. Tea was big business, but coffee ruled the market when it came to hot beverages.

And the son of the Cole family had just royally fucked me up on the London Eye. No wonder Shay was so nervous. This wasn’t just about riling up Lance. It was about the risk Cameron had taken of exposing his family to scandal.

I reached into my box of chocolates, took one of them out, and shoved it into my mouth. I tried to hide the fact I was having a mouth orgasm, gazing off lovingly at nothing much during my out of body experience. This stunning creamy softness melted on my tongue. Chocolate really was a close second to sex.

Cameron and I definitely had our worship of chocolate in common.

I tried to shake off this new nugget of intel on the great Cameron Cole, reminding myself I still had shopping to do.

I visited the stationery section, menswear, and even stopped off in what was called the haberdashery. So far, so good. I was on a roll with the gifts.

Next I jumped onto the escalator and headed up to the second floor, to the perfumery. The scent of rich musk hung thick. A pungent aroma. Line upon line of glass cases were filled with foreign named fragrances--all of them the high end kind.

Sniffing away at the samples, I moved along to the bottle of Amelia Eau de Perfume, and it made me swoon. I let my nose hover over a Chanel then sprayed a Vera Wang perfume into the air and ‘Princess’ wafted. Finding the smallest and least expensive bottle of Vera Wang, I placed it in my shopping basket.

“No, no,” said a husky voice.

She was stunning.

The tall, slim brunette had her hair pulled taut in a pony tail. She wore a low cut, cream silk blouse tucked into a short pencil skirt, along with a thin black belt. That line of diamonds along her neck screamed money. Her shopping basket was empty.

She reached into mine and took out the Vera Wang. “Too young for you,” she said in a French accent.

“Excuse me?” I glanced around, self-conscious.

She placed the bottle onto the counter. “Christmas crackers? How divine.”

“For Christmas dinner,” I said softly.

She gave a beautiful smile. “Are you cooking?”

“No, my friends are. I’m helping.”

She glanced at my ring finger. “Your husband?”

“Boyfriend. My friends and I plan to have everything ready by the time he arrives.”

She looked around. “Where’s he now?”

“Flying in from the States.”

“Ah, young lovers together for Christmas.” She reached for a square bottle of Shalini, tipped it, and then lifted out the glass stopper and brought it up to my nose. “Better, yes?”

I sniffed the floral fragrance. “It’s lovely.”

It smelled soft and alluring.

“Over four hundred dollars per ounce,” she said. “But worth it.”

I lowered my gaze.

“Spoil yourself.” She pouted. “The scent of a flower in bloom suits you.” She traced the tip of the stopper along my neck and slid it lower, tickling as she went, following my cleavage. “It blends with your skin.”

I was frozen to the spot, hypnotized by her sensuality. She reminded me of the ‘girls’ back at Enthrall. Those confident dominatrixes who shared this woman’s love of expensive fragrances and, like them, oozed sexuality.

Her gaze fixed on my lips as she traced the glass stopper beneath my blouse, along the line of my bra, beneath the cup now, and edging it around my areola—

Sparking arousal.

Flushing wildly, I stepped back. “I’ll see how it smells on me later. Maybe I will get it.”

“It compliments you.” She gestured to the bottle of perfume and turned to the cashier. “I’ll take one of these.”

She’d handed over her credit card and paid for a bottle of Shalini, her left hand resting on the arch of my spine.

Trying to cool my blushing and come up with words to politely extract myself from this overly zealous European, I pretended to check out another perfume.

Her purchase was handed back to her in a shiny blue bag.

She dropped the bottle into my basket. “A gift.”