“What things?” Dan asked. He had taken off his suit jacket now that business hours were over.
“Dan. Just relax man. I’m simply going out. Go with the boys and have a few drinks will you?” Devin urged, giving him another reassuring smile but Dan didn’t look pleased.
“Be careful!” Dan called out to him as Devin stepped out of the doors of the clubhouse. Devin shook his head in irritation. Dan was good, a great business associate, but it was like working with an overprotective mother at times.
Devin got on his old Harley and fitted the helmet over his head. He rode with a specific destination in mind. He was headed for the address that Camille had written down on that piece of paper. He still had it folded up in the pocket of his jeans, but he didn’t need to refer to it again. He found it easily.
He was ten minutes early when he screeched his bike to a stop in front of her apartment building. The complex looked unassuming in a quiet residential neighborhood, with well-lit streets and trees lining the roads. Devin didn’t know which apartment she was in, so he blew the horn twice.
He looked up at the windows; the helmet was still on his face, which was good because he knew his face would betray just how he was feeling. He was excited.
Then he saw her. She had stuck her head out of a lit window on the third floor; her face was silhouetted by the light from inside the house, so he couldn’t quite see the expression on her face, but he recognized that tight halo of curls.
She soon slunk back inside without waving or saying a word. Devin could feel his heart racing again. He couldn’t be sure if she were ready or if she wanted him to wait, or if she had changed her mind…
All he could do was wait, and he did just that. His hands remained on the gears of his bike, as he stood with his feet firmly planted on the concrete, straddling his baby underneath him. He tried to distract himself from feeling so nervous. She was only a girl after all, but he couldn’t help his feelings. Especially not when he saw her step out of the front door and walk down the steps towards him.
Devin removed his helmet as Camille came closer without really looking at him. Could she have been blushing? He thought.
She looked different, to say the least, but absolutely ravishing. Her skin glowed, and the tight red dress she wore clung to her body. Her legs looked slender and long as usual, and she was wearing high heels that clicked against the ground.
Even without her having to turn, Devin could tell that her butt swayed with every step. Her shoulders were bare, and they looked soft and smooth in the dim light of the street. Her breasts looked big and juicy, just as he had predicted even under her sweatshirt that morning.
Devin’s eyes were mostly drawn to her face. Her gold hair shimmered with beautiful tight curls, her large blue eyes were offset by long, black lashes, and her lips were small and painted in the same red shade as her dress. In her hands, she clutched a black purse, which she held close to her hip as she swayed and walked towards him.
“I wasn’t sure where we were going. So I decided to dress neutrally,” she said in that sweet innocent voice of hers that had been ringing in his ears all day.
Devin laughed as he clutched his helmet to his side, and looked at her blushing face. That dress was anything but neutral. It was designed for a very specific emotion, and it was being very successful at it.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, and he stretched out his hand to her. Camille looked at his hand like she was still hesitating, and then gave over her own to which he pulled to his lips.
He got a scent of the vanilla of her skin again, mingled with a sharp floral scent of her perfume. It almost made him dizzy as he held her hand up to his lips. He kept his eyes focused on her face as he kissed it lightly. Camille appeared to blush deeper and looked away from him, and at that moment, all Devin wanted to do was kiss her. Kiss her so that she would not have to feel embarrassed.
“Do you not have a plan?” she asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Devin had forgotten what they were talking about; he was too distracted by the taste of her skin.
His brows furrowed quizzically “What?”
Camille looked nervous again like she was afraid that she had displeased him somehow. “I mean, where are we going? I thought you had a plan.” She slowly pulled her hand out of his.
“Hop on,” he said, instead of answering her question. Camille looked at him and then at the bike. Could this be her first time on one?
“Here give me your hand and place your foot on the step there.” Devin held out his hand again, and she gingerly took it. This time, Devin gripped it tightly, giving her enough support to climb on.
“Oh my goodness,” Camille squealed and then laughed as she stepped with one foot on the step on the side and tried to swing her leg over the backseat of the bike. Her dress was too tight, but she didn’t seem embarrassed by it. For the first time, Devin could see her having fun.
She tried to swing her leg over again, but failed and then finally decided to sit sideways behind him. Devin felt the pressure of her small, slender hands as she placed them on both of his shoulders.
“You’ll have to hold me tighter than that,” he told her, turning his face to the side. He couldn’t see her anymore, but he could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck as she sat behind him.
Camille didn’t say a word, but he felt her move in her seat so that she was now pressing her body to his.
“Hold on, Camille,” he said in an authoritative voice for her safety and also because he wanted to feel her. He was growing desperate for her touch.
When her arms wrapped around his abdomen, he felt like someone had punched the breath out of him. Her body was close to his.
He heard her breathe in sharply too, but he tried to distract himself by putting on his helmet. He needed to concentrate on riding his bike; he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by her.
“So where are we going?” she asked again, and he smiled despite the fact that she couldn’t see it due to the helmet now covering his face.
“Hold on tight, and you’ll see,” he replied, his voice muffled by the helmet, but she had heard him. He felt her grip him tighter, and for a second he thought she was going to place her face on one of his shoulders. But she didn’t. Instead, she braced herself for the ride as he revved the engine.
Neither of them exchanged a word after that, not that they even could. The bike was way too loud. Devin was riding through the streets of Miami towards South Beach, the wind warm and salty on their faces. Devin could ride these streets blindly if he had to, but this time it felt new. Everything felt new with her behind him. Even when Camille wasn’t saying anything, just touching him… Devin felt like a different man. A man who would keep her safe by any means necessary.
***
They walked side by side as they entered the restaurant. Devin watched several heads turn to look at them, and he wasn’t sure if they were judging him by the way he was dressed or admiring how sexy Camille was.
She looked nervous beside him as the hostess guided them to the table in the far corner, overlooking the beach. Devin had picked this restaurant for its fantastic view of the ocean. Even in the dark, they could see the waves crashing gently as they sat down at their table for two. A candle was lit between them, and a waitress appeared to present them with the menus.
“I’m Joanne, and I will be your waitress for tonight. Would you like to order some drinks?” she said in a chirpy voice, and Devin turned to look at her. On any other occasion, he would have been quick to appreciate the sharp straight nose, green eyes, short white skirt, and the way the fabric of her black shirt stretched over her breasts, the buttons stretched to the brink of popping open. But instead, he just smiled at her, while Camille was engrossed in the menu.
“A bottle of your best red,” he told Joanne, the waitress, surprising even himself. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but something told him that Camille was. And this place just looked like one of those restaurants that didn�
�t stock beers. Camille looked up at him briefly and tried to suppress a smile.
“I can leave the menus with you so you can decide on your food,” Joanne said, and Devin felt her hand graze his as she placed the menu in front of him.
Camille looked up, apparently noticing, and watched Joanne walk away. “Do they know you here?” she asked, and Devin shook his head.
“Never been here before, why?”
She shrugged her slender bare shoulders.
“I just got the impression that she knew you,” Camille replied meekly and went back to looking at the menu.
“Have you been here before?” he asked.
“No, but it looks lovely. The view is beautiful.” He watched as she turned her head to look at the waves. Her eyes traveled over their motion, and she looked distracted.
“Something tells me you are more than a comic bookstore owner,” he added and wasn’t quite sure where the question had come from.
Camille looked at him, holding his gaze before finally smiling. “I’m an artist in my spare time,” she said and closed the menu.
Devin raised his eyebrows just as Joanne appeared again. Camille was an artist. He knew there was more to her than meets the eye.
“What can I get you?” Joanne asked animatedly. She had a huge smile on her face, and her glittering eyes were focused on Devin. He could sense that she was checking him out - his muscles, his shoulders, and his face.
“I’ll have the Chef’s special steak,” Devin said, not looking at Joanne directly.
“Good choice, Sir. I’ll make sure that he gives your steak his full attention,” Joanne replied with a laugh, and Devin finally met her eyes. Unlike Camille, she didn’t shy away from him.
“You’re very kind.” He handed the menu back to her. Joanne surprised him with a giggle, still not turning to Camille to ask for her order.
“And how would you like your steak, sir? Something tells me you like your meat well done.” She was openly flirting and still ignoring the presence of Camille at the table.
“Medium rare,” he said and turned away from her. In another time, on another day, before he had met Camille… this kind of open flirting would have led to a quick fuck in the staff toilets. But not tonight, not when all he wanted to do was talk to the beautiful comic bookstore owner. Alone.
“Anything else that I can get you, sir?” Joanne asked, emphasizing the last word. She then leaned forward and playfully touched his hand that was casually resting on the table. Devin withdrew it with a jerk and turned to Camille.
“You could take her order,” he said firmly and watched as Joanne’s face soured a little. But she was quick to regain her composure and turn to Camille.
That was when he noticed Camille’s face. It was rigid, and her eyes looked icy blue, even though she had a smile on her face.
“I’ll have the Caesar salad, thank you,” she said bluntly, and Joanne wrote the order down on her notepad.
“That’ll be all,” Devin said before Joanne could ask them any more questions, or waste any more time lingering. He wanted Camille all to himself again.
He watched her as she watched the waitress walking away, and then a few moments later she turned to him. She looked like she was trying very hard to put up a front of casualness; like Joanne’s flirting hadn’t affected her at all.
“She’s sweet. She likes you,” Camille said, and to his surprise, she reached for the bottle of wine that Joanne had placed on the table between them. Camille’s cheeks were flushed again as she poured the wine into her glass and didn’t offer him any. Devin wanted to smile. She was jealous, and he wanted to pull her close to him because of it.
“Who?” he asked as she took a sip of wine. The liquid glazed her lips, and she shot him a questioning look.
“The waitress.”
“What waitress?” He leaned back in his chair, as Camille appeared to suppress a smile again.
Chapter Five
Camille
Devin had polished off his steak in ten minutes, while Camille took small bites of her salad. She had been drinking most of the wine, as Devin seemed to be forcing himself to keep drinking it. They hadn’t stopped talking.
“So are you going to tell me what kind of an artist you are?” he asked when he finally stopped laughing at her stories about the kinds of customers who came to her bookstore.
Camille fell silent; she didn’t know how to begin explaining her comic books and her art to him.
“I don’t necessarily like to talk about it.” She dropped her gaze to her bowl of salad instead. She could sense his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare to look up.
“Does that mean that I’ll never get to see it?” he urged her again, and she met his eyes. They were a dark chocolate brown, glittering behind the candlelight that was burning between them. His face was relaxed, exceedingly handsome and rugged. She could see the light dusting of a green late evening shadow forming on his jaws. He smelt the same, masculine and musky.
His hands were large and rough as they lay on the table on his side. He had focused all his attention on her the whole night, not once turning to look at that flirty waitress, even when she came to serve them their food.
Camille smiled at him shyly and shook her head. “Not if I can help it,” she said, secretly feeling victorious at the fact that he had a hundred copies of her art. He had bought them but had no clue they were her work.
They silently looked at each other, which was interspersed with some sipping of wine.
“Not unless you sing for me,” she said and watched as his face changed. It was his turn to blush, even though she didn’t think Devin Rock was the kind of guy who would blush at anything.
“Now, why would I do that?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Because you’re a musician. My art is my hobby; your music is your livelihood. Don’t you think I should get a firsthand personal performance from the great Devin Rock?” She laughed as she finished the last dregs of the wine from her glass.
Devin shifted in his seat and then smiled widely at her.
“Maybe some other night,” he said, and Camille pouted her lips.
“Why? Why not tonight?” she asked, and Devin continued to smile. Those dimples on his cheeks were obnoxiously sweet. They added a boyish charm to his looks that he otherwise hid very well. Devin was the definition of man. A hard, rock-solid man. There was nothing sweet or adorable about him, he was all sexy. But when he smiled, Camille noticed the softness in his eyes. Could Devin Rock be soft as a marshmallow on the inside? It was hard to tell, especially when he was looking at her the way he was now. His eyes were narrowed and intense, he was studying her closely. His gaze fell to her cleavage and then swept back to her face.
“Because I have a different kind of plan for us tonight,” Devin said, and Camille felt her eyes shining. She bit down on her lip and took a large bite of her salad.
“I’m done.” She pushed her bowl away. She couldn’t wait to see what plan he had in store for them. She hadn’t felt so thrilled before. Devin was a mystery to her, but she was anxious to unravel him and see what layers were hidden beneath.
Devin gave a short laugh and then shot up his hand in the air.
Joanne came bouncing towards them a few moments later with the bill on a small glass plate.
“I hope you both had a lovely evening, and everything was alright,” she said nervously, without looking at either of them.
“Everything was perfect. Thank you very much,” Camille told her, tucking some curls behind her ears. Devin reached for the bill before she could even look at it and then took out his wallet. He didn’t bother replying to Joanne who stood idly by. She still couldn’t help but watch Devin.
Camille realized then that was the effect that he had on everybody around him; an instant magnetic pull. Even when they had walked into the restaurant, everyone had turned to look at them. At him. At his leather jacket, at his six foot four inches of pure muscle, at his dark hair, and his ripped body. Maybe th
ey all recognized him too as the famous musician who she still didn’t know him as.
“There. All done. Shall we go?” Devin asked and stood up from his chair. Camille followed suit, as Joanne stood to the side, waiting to see them off to the door. Devin walked over and stood behind Camille’s chair as she gathered her purse and steadied herself on her feet. Her brain was swimming a little now from all the wine she had drunk so quickly.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Joanne said as Devin walked in front of Camille, and they weaved their way through the arrangement of tables.
Something suddenly overtook Camille, and she whipped around to look at Joanne, squarely into her eyes. She didn’t know if Devin had noticed and stopped, or just carried on walking.
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