Page 63 of Cameron's Contract
His frown deepened.
“I’m going to give you your very own submissive,” I said. “One who knows how to please a master and will enter subspace when you spank her. Not cry like Megan did because she’s not into your kink.”
“She cried?”
“Yes.”
“Now I feel like a shit.” He took a swig of beer. “She told me she liked it.”
“Girls lie.”
“How much?”
“For membership?” I shook my head. “All we ask is that you spoil your sub. You keep your mouth shut. You answer to me.”
“Sounds like it’s your club?”
Our waiter placed that tall glass of champagne in front of me and I watched him walk away. “Am I drinking to our new member?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Cameron Cole.”
“Of Cole Tea?”
“Yes.”
“Heard you’re not studying business? Bet that’s a disappointment to your dad.”
“Neither are you.” I took a sip of champagne.
“Looks like we have something in common.”
“Same predilection. I can help you.”
“Why?”
“It’s what I do.”
“What? Seek out perverted bastards and offer them a safe place to practice their fucked-up fuckery?”
“Actually I was referring to your squeamishness in the lab. You’re failing your first semester because you couldn’t handle dissecting Mr. Pukesville.” The name he’d given his cadaver. He didn’t need to know how I knew that.
Richard visibly paled.
“I can help you with that too,” I said.
His gaze narrowed. “You can shove both offers right up your ass.”
I slid the card with D’envoûtement’s address across the table. “Tomorrow. Eight sharp. Black tie.”
I left him staring down at the card.
“Cole, you don’t want your burger?” he called after me.
I turned and looked back at him. “I ordered it for Megan.”
He’d looked aghast.
