CHAMELEON

FOUR.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Cameron studied Fisher with her mouth hanging open. Smirking, he reached across the bar to close it with a finger under her chin.

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand, little one. I got my orders from higher up than you,"

Higher up?

"Marcus said I couldn't drink?" she demanded.

"Not Master Marcus, though he would probably back me up. Master Brett. He asked me to make sure you didn't sneak anything before he caught up to you."

Cameron spun around on her barstool before she drew blood from the nice bartender. She was in disbelief as she sat waiting for a man who she was essentially promised to, and happened to be running ten minutes behind schedule, who apparently had ensured she wouldn't get any alcohol in her system. How much damage would a mojito do, anyway? She was hoping it would be enough to soothe a few nerves, that's all. Damn him. She also couldn't ignore the warm feeling she got from knowing that he had checked in with Fisher while he couldn't be there.

Forcing her hands to loosen on the now-crumpled piece of paper she was holding, Cameron looked up to take in her surroundings. Lust was bustling with people dressed in all kinds of fetish wear. People were dancing on the dance floor, others were laughing and chatting. Almost all of the staged areas with different forms of spanking benches and bondage areas were occupied. A long moan dragged her attention to a far corner, where a girl was shaking around some kind of seat. Looked like a nice orgasm, she thought. She hadn't had an earth-shattering one in way too long. The submissive area a few feet in front of the wailing girl made Cameron frown. When Brett had called her – she noted to herself that she must ask Sadie if she had given him her number – to tell her he was going to be a few minutes late and that she was to wait at the bar. Specifically, he had mentioned, not to go near the submissive seating area.

She glanced over her shoulder at Fisher and nodded towards the area.

"Is the gossip over there really good enough that he needs to keep me away?"

Fisher cracked one of those wide smiles that could light up a person's whole day.

"Any submissive seated there without cuffs is free game for dominants to approach. Can't promise, but I would assume that's why he told you to wait here,"

"Didn't say that he said that," she huffed.

His grin only got wider.

Cameron pouted in silenced until she watched Brett come through the front door. She wasn't really sure if she had a 'type' but was certain that if she did, he was it. He towered over her 5'5" frame enough to instil a delicious feeling of helplessness. He had a muscular build that suggested that he was physically active, but his muscles were smooth enough that she figured they were naturally built without any steroids. He had short brown hair and deep brown eyes that she could easily see herself being swallowed in. Every time she laid eyes on his her insides flared with heat, causing her head to scream get the hell out of there.

"Thank you for waiting for me. I'm sorry I ran late," he said when he finally got to her.

She felt her toughness melt away a little. A man that held himself accountable for things? Hell, guard dog wasn't so bad after all.

"And thank you," he said to Fisher with a pat on his bar. "I take it there were no issues?"

The toughness was back.