WIFE FOR A PRICE: A Hitman Fake Marriage Romance

by Thomas, Kathryn

  “But we have to make new ones as well, these can’t be the only ones we use,” Camille said, pulling out her phone from her pocket which had started ringing. It was Devin.

  “Hi,” she said, walking out of the storeroom and leaving Shayna by herself.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” she heard him say, and she blushed, even though he was nowhere in sight.

  “I was just checking in to see how things are coming along,” Devin said, and Camille stood leaning against a bookshelf, twirling one of her curls around her little finger.

  “They’re going well, we’ve collected all our old ones in one place and have to decide on the new ones I want to draw,” she told him, picturing Devin in front of her now - what he might be wearing, his chocolate brown eyes, his wide shoulders, and how much taller than her he was.

  “That’s good. Has Evangeline been behaving herself?” he asked, and Camille suddenly felt lost in his voice for a few moments, before she regained her composure and nodded.

  “Yes, she’s been very helpful, thanks. She calls me every few days to coordinate and has given me lots of useful tips,” Camille said, realizing at that moment that her happiness knew no bounds. For the first time in her life, everything was going well. She had her first art show coming up, in the best and biggest gallery in the city. She had Devin, who even though she didn’t share a defined relationship with, she was just happy knowing that he was in her life. Camille couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Very good. Looks like Evangeline has finally grown up.”

  “Yeah, she said that she’s deciding on a price and that we can price them quite high. She’s confident that they will all sell.” Camille was unable to contain her excitement, and Devin laughed when he heard her sound so happy.

  “I miss you, Camille, we should get together again, soon,” Devin said, and she felt like her heart was about to melt.

  “When do you want to meet? I’m free all this week.” Camille bit down on her lip. She didn’t want to sound this excited, but she couldn’t help herself; Devin’s voice was irresistible.

  “I’m not sure when we can meet. I have a big project this week so it might not happen. But you should know that I’m constantly thinking about you. I have to go now. Good luck with your art,” he said and then hung up.

  Camille listened to the white disconnected noise at the other end of the line and continued chewing on her lip. This was Devin’s appeal: he left her hot and cold, pulled her in and then pushed her back. And for some strange reason, she liked it. He was unpredictable, and she felt like it was dangerous for her to place her heart in his hands. But she wouldn’t have it any other way; she couldn’t even think of a life without Devin now, even though she barely knew him.

  “Are you done? I have a few ideas I want to run by you.” Shayna appeared, and Camille nodded. She could think about Devin all day, but there was work to do.

  “So you know how you said you want to make Cammy the central theme? Make each artwork a symbol for feminism?” Shayna said, walking back towards the storeroom. Camille followed her, but her brain was still filled with thoughts of Devin.

  “Well, I was thinking that we could use colors to symbolize a different kind of evil in each drawing. You know, like red for spilled blood. A dark navy blue for men in uniform who take up positions of power against women.” Shayna was talking fast, as she always did when she had a big idea. Camille was barely paying attention, but she nodded anyway.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” she said, giving a wide genuine smile.

  “Great, I’ll go and start working on a narrative then,” Shayna replied, turning around to give Camille a tight hug before walking out of the storeroom.

  Camille was the one left alone with her old paintings now. She stared at them, blankly and silently. Most of the artwork was of Cammy, the superhero from her comic book. Some others were of landscapes, torn down buildings, and roughed up small towns. They were all a reflection of where she had grown up; the unrest and evil she had witnessed as a child.

  She was a long way away from all that now, Camille thought, the smile disappearing from her face. She was lucky to have found a friend like Shayna, a man like Devin, and the kind of opportunity he and Evangeline were giving her. She wondered if she had misjudged Evangeline too quickly at the exhibition. Evangeline seemed like a completely different person now. She was warm, friendly, cooperative and most of all, she seemed like she genuinely cared about Camille’s artistic success.

  She forgave Evangeline for her cold and unfriendly behavior the other night. She smiled because she understood her - it couldn’t have been easy to let go of Devin, get over him, and then watch him attend her party with someone else.

  Camille stared at her phone in her hand again; she missed him already. But there was work to be done, and new art to be drawn. Her destiny was waiting for her, and Camille was ready now, more than ever, to grab it by the horns.

  ***

  Camille threw her keys on the couch and switched on the electric kettle. She had already had dinner with Shayna earlier at a restaurant, but she was craving some hot milky tea now. Her apartment was a mess; she hadn’t bothered to clean up much in the past few days. Her attention had been entirely on Devin and the upcoming art show. The rest of her life, the bookstore… everything had taken a backseat for the time being.

  She made herself a cup of tea and sat down on the couch, resting her feet on the low coffee table in front of her. She could see her own reflection in the window on the opposite wall. She was in a short denim skirt, a cotton top, her hair was in its usual unmanageable curly state, and she hadn’t bothered with makeup that day. What did Devin see in her?

  Devin. She reached for her phone and stared at the screen blankly. She missed him; she craved to hear his voice. But he seemed so far away. Before she could stop herself, she was dialing his number.

  “Hi, gorgeous.” He answered the call within the first few rings.

  “Hi. Just wondering what you’re up to?” Camille smiled, snuggling into the couch, and pulled the soft throw over her legs.

  Devin laughed and then sighed. “I just came back home. I had a long day at work, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” He sounded sexy and irresistible.

  Camille placed her mug of tea on the table and leaned back into the couch. She could perfectly imagine his chiseled face, his wide smile, and his tattooed back.

  “And what are you going to do now?” she asked huskily. Even though they were on the phone, Camille felt like she was alone with him. Just the two of them.

  Devin sighed again and took his time to respond. “Maybe lie here on my couch, dreaming of you and your perfect breasts,” he said, surprising her with his directness.

  Camille couldn’t stop herself from giggling, and then she bit down on her lip and sighed. “I wish you were here with me. Then you wouldn’t have to dream of my breasts,” she replied, and Devin drew in a deep breath.

  “No, then I’d be ripping your clothes off you. I’d want those breasts in my mouth.”

  Camille found her hand traveling down her belly to where she was beginning to grow wet. She hadn’t done something like this since she was a teenager! How was he able to turn her on with just his voice?

  “Touch them, Camille. For me,” she heard him say, and she did as she was told. She grabbed her breast, the left one, and squeezed. She moaned and closed her eyes, and heard him take in a sharp breath.

  “Now flick your nipples, squeeze them… you know how I do it.”

  She did that too. She hadn’t touched herself like this in a long time, and for some reason, it felt natural. Her nipples were pert and raw, and she winced when she squeezed them, enjoying the sharp pleasurable sensation. She licked her lips as she imagined Devin’s hands on her body, his large warm hands on her skin and playing with her nipples.

  “What are you doing?” She asked him breathily.

  “I’m touching myself, stroking my dick,” he said, and she could hear him beginning to breathe heavi
ly.

  “I want to touch it too. Suck it, wrap my tongue around it.” Camille was shocking herself by the words she was using. Devin took in a sharp breath of air, he must have been surprised as well, but at least it turned him on.

  “I want to be inside you, Camille. I want to rip off your panties with my tongue and stick my fingers inside you.”

  Camille moaned again. She had started stroking herself as well, making herself wetter with each passing second. She could picture Devin naked in front of her. His tattoos, his ripping muscles, the ease with which he carried her around, and how small she felt with him over her. Camille shut her eyes tightly and started stroking more vigorously.

  “I want to make you cum, Camille. I want to see those breasts swing,” he said, and she threw her head back. She had forgotten that she was pleasuring herself; her fingers stroking herself were Devin’s fingers. She pushed her underwear aside and slipped in two of her fingers, and heard herself moan loudly.

  “I’m going to ravage that body when I see you next, Camille. I’m going to lick every inch of you. Pump into you until you tell me to stop.” Devin’s voice had become heavy, and he was breathing raspy. She could sense that he was pushing himself over the edge. He was stroking himself thinking of her, and they were both losing control.

  Camille had never managed to pleasure herself this way. She had never bothered to, and she had never felt this good either. Now her fingers were inside her, sliding in and out, her juices were seeping out, her fingers were sticky and wet, and she was touching herself there, where Devin had managed to touch her. She was close to her orgasm, and she screamed his name.

  “Devin! I’m going to cum!” she yelled, and Devin groaned.

  “Cum with me Camille, let me cum inside you,” she heard him say before her mind lost all control. She was on a high, her body writhed and her hips moved of their own accord. She gyrated against the cushions on her couch while her fingers remained inside her. It was too exciting and felt too good for her to fathom.

  When her breathing subsided, she heard Devin laugh a little. It was a laugh of satisfaction.

  “Sweet dreams, Devin. I have to go now,” she told him and ended the call. The smile on her face remained as she held the phone in her hands and sunk back into the couch. She was going to sleep well tonight.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Devin

  Four weeks had gone by in the blink of an eye. Even though Devin had a lot of business to take care of, and he had been away from Miami for most of that time, he couldn't believe how much he missed Camille when he couldn’t see her.

  The upcoming art show had kept her busy too so that they only had the chance to meet three times in those four weeks. And she hadn’t stayed over on any of those nights because she wanted to wake up early and he’d had work as well. Now his busy streak was finally over, the art show was in two days, and he had convinced her that he should take her shopping.

  He was waiting for her, leaning on his Harley outside her apartment building. Camille finally appeared at the door. She was in a pair of ripped boyfriend jeans with a loose oversized t-shirt tucked in and a wide black belt. She looked too young, too innocent and beautiful for a life with him, he thought. But Devin smiled nonetheless. Camille came bouncing down the steps towards him. They hadn’t seen each other in over five days, and by the look on her face, she had missed him just as much as he had missed her.

  “Devin!” Her cheeks flushed with excitement as she came running towards him. He extended his arms so that she fell into them and he picked her up. They kissed passionately, and when he pulled away, her cheeks were still flushed. The large silver hoops in her ears shook as she laughed.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she said, and he released her, her sneakers touching the ground again.

  “I’ve been dying to see you. You look gorgeous,” he replied, and she tucked in some curls behind her ears in embarrassment. She really didn’t know how to take a compliment, Devin thought and laughed.

  “All set for the show?” he asked as she walked around to hop on the bike.

  “Yes, all set. The paintings and sketches have been transported to Evangeline’s storage. Now it’s all in her hands,” Camille said as she slid her legs over the backseat like a pro, and waited for him to settle in. Devin smiled and buckled up his helmet. He felt her arms wrap around his waist as he revved up his engine.

  “Are you as excited about it as I am?” he asked, and he felt Camille nuzzle up behind him.

  “You have no idea, and thank you again, Devin. For doing this for me.”

  He turned sideways to face her. Their faces were close, and she placed a small kiss on his helmet where his lips would have been, and Devin immediately felt the tension from his shoulder muscles subside. She always had a calming effect on him.

  “You’re very welcome, but don’t thank me. It’s all about your talent, and you deserve it, Camille.” He smiled, but she couldn’t see it behind his helmet. But she looked happy nonetheless.

  “Remind me again, why you’re taking me shopping?” she asked with a giggle.

  “Because you will need a grand new dress for the show and I want to treat you to something nice,” he said and started his bike before she could protest again. Unlike all the other women he had ever dated, Camille Griffin was shy about compliments, and also shied away from accepting gifts. He wanted to do this for her; he wanted her to feel like a princess at the show and be the center of attention. Devin had a feeling, even though she had told him very little about her life, that Camille had grown up with very little. He wanted to make her feel appreciated for her talents. She deserved it for how good she made him feel.

  They arrived at Dorothy’s boutique fifteen minutes later, and he could already sense Camille’s inhibitions as they got off the bike.

  “I thought we were just going to the mall,” he heard her say as she hopped off the bike behind him. He took off his helmet, parked the bike and got off himself. He couldn’t suppress the smile on his face. He had brought her to the most exclusive boutique in the city. Dorothy Patterson catered to celebrities, millionaires, and dressed film stars for the red carpet; she designed everything from clothes to accessories, to jewelry. This could be their one-stop destination for the perfect look for Camille for the art show.

  “You deserve something special. An artist needs to sell herself just as much as her art,” Devin said, placing a hand on her waist as he led her towards the entrance to the store. Camille hesitated; he could feel the tension in her shoulders.

  “But this is too much, Devin. Dorothy Patterson’ boutique!” she whispered as he pushed her gently towards the store.

  “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t think I could afford it.”

  Camille turned to him while biting her lips in nervousness. “I didn’t know models make that much money,” she said, and Devin smiled.

  “I also have my business,” he said, and Camille raised her eyebrows.

  “Which I know nothing about, but which you insist is a hundred percent legitimate,” she replied, finally giving up and walking at his pace. Devin laughed and stroked the small of her back as he held open the glass doors to the boutique.

  “You don’t need to concern yourself with that. Just enjoy today, and concentrate on your art. I promise I won’t get us into trouble.”

  Camille walked past him into the boutique, wide-eyed and nervous. She turned to him with a half-baked smile as she waited for him to join her.

  “I just want you to stay safe, that’s all,” she said, and Devin leaned in to plant a long kiss on her forehead.

  ***

  It was Devin who was insisting that she try out every possible dress at the store. He was sitting opposite the changing rooms, and Dorothy Patterson’ assistant kept handing Camille dresses over the curtains for her to try on.

  This time, Camille parted the curtains and stepped out. The assistant had even picked out shoes for her to wear. It was a glittering silver cocktail dress with
long sleeves and a plunging back that reached just above her butt. The shoes were high, silvery heels and Camille walked out in the outfit looking nervous and shy.

  “Give me a twirl,” Devin said with a satisfied smile on his face, and Camille turned slowly. He could feel himself move in his pants as he watched her. But she looked uncomfortable.

  “Just one more, the black one, and then you can choose which one you want,” Devin said, sitting back in the chair, and Camille rolled her eyes.

  “I can’t believe you’re making me do this!” she snapped, trying to suppress a smile as well. As much as she tried to deny it to herself, she was enjoying the experience. The assistant brought over a silver tray with two champagne glasses that they both accepted. Devin could see the excitement in Camille’s eyes. She was still nervous and shy, but she was thrilled about it all too.