After a few beats of silence, she probed on the second part of her question. “What about the people you meet? Women. Like me.”
Shaking his head, he turned his body slightly, so he could look her in the eyes. “Camille, there’s no one like you. No one. You never have to worry about what I did with anyone who came before you. You’re the only woman I want to be with. The only thing you should concern yourself with is how am I with you. Can you do that?”
He knew the answer was just vague enough to leave her with some questions. But until they got through tonight unscathed, he needed to think through his words carefully. No other woman pulled out this craving in him before, but while he wanted to jump in with both feet, there was still so much that needed to come out.
The day would come when she’d know so much more than she did today. When that happened, would that be a deal-breaker? She was her father’s daughter, but he was confident she had no idea about the life her father led when he was a young man. Everything about Camille made him want to build something real with her. After only a few hours, she’d done something no other woman had done.
Tristan wanted more than one night.
Glancing down at her plate, he motioned, “Eat. You’re going to need your energy later tonight.”
Tristan laughed at the gasp that escaped her mouth. Camille picked up her utensils and began eating her food with much more gusto than he’d expected. Turning to his own meal, the smile remained on his face. He was looking forward to what the rest of the night would bring.
*****
BACK AT CAMILLE’S HOUSE, she’d invited him in for coffee, which he gladly accepted. He’d held off from repeating their car experience after dinner. One reason was due to his need being so close to the surface. There was no way he’d be okay with just a taste of her. He’d want all of her, and that wasn’t something he was willing to do in a car.
When he took her again, it would be in the privacy of her home.
The other reason was he didn’t want her to think he only wanted her for the sex. Which, he absolutely wanted from her. All fucking night if he could get it. But more than that, he wanted her time. Her smiles. Her soft sighs as she leaned into him as they drove to her house. The soft touch of her hands as she raved about their dinner or talked about her business.
Yes, he wanted to sink inside her body so deeply, he wouldn’t be able to tell where he ended, and she began. Of that, there was no doubt. But he wanted more. He wanted all of her. So, he’d waited. If she allowed him into her bed, he’d make sure she never wanted him to leave.
Standing at the large red brick fireplace in her living room, he looked at her family pictures. Her home was large on the inside and looked almost exactly how he thought it would. Comfortable, but sturdy furniture. Woodworking magazines were strewn about. Pictures of what seemed to be her original designs graced the walls.
Hell, the woman even had a glass and wood gun case tucked away in the family room. When he’d noticed that, he couldn’t resist peeking inside. A couple long-range rifles, several .9mm and .45 pistols, and even a couple six-shooters. One weapon looked to be a .357 magnum. His thoughts shifted to the woman he’d just spend the past few hours with. Whose distinctive taste he could still conjure up from earlier tonight. Tristan knew he was a goner.
Could he expect anything less from the daughter of Raymond Sperry? He’d be more surprised if she didn’t know how to handle weapons. Moving to another spot of the house, he wondered just how much Camille really knew about her father’s past, and how closely connected he was to the Lucarelli’s.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see her walking towards him with two glasses of amber liquid.
“I know I invited you in for coffee. I hope this is okay,” Camille said with a smile.
Accepting the glass of whiskey, he lifted the glass in a toast before taking a sip. “This is fine.” Walking over to the couch, he placed his suit jacket over a winged-back chair before sitting down, leaving enough room for Camille to sit down next to him.
When she did, he noticed that she’d taken her heels off. Looking down at her feet, he saw that her toes were painted a fire engine red. He’d always loved that color. Considering she wore work boots, jeans, and T-shirts to work every day while working on wood furniture and other designs, the sight made him smile. The red color on her toes made him think of passion and fire, which he knew was a perfect fit for the woman sitting next to him. He watched her take a drink, leaning her head back as she savored the liquor. Damn, she was sexy.
Her eyes opened, and she turned her gaze to his. “Why’d you ask me out?”
Tristan couldn’t help the smile that came over his face. Bold. Then again, he liked that about her. With all the things they’d discussed at dinner, this was the one topic they’d steered away from.
“Because when I saw you, I wanted you.” It was the truth. He wasn’t ready to tell her the circumstances surrounding when he noticed her. Maybe he’d never have to bring that up.
“Just like that? You saw me, you wanted me; therefore, you pursued me.”
Nodding, he took another sip. “Pretty much.”
“Have you ever been with a black woman?”
Surprised by her question, he coughed as the drink went down the wrong way. “Does it matter?”
Shrugging, she glanced away from him. “I guess not. Especially if the question makes you uncomfortable.”
“Woman, you are something else, you know that?”
Not saying a word, she gave him a look with her eyes that had him getting hard in his slacks. This woman wasn’t afraid of him one little bit. She said whatever was on her mind and if he didn’t like it, she didn’t really care.
The only time he’d seen the hidden, vulnerable side of her was when he’d taken over in the car. Her sexuality was the one area where she seemed to hand over the reins. Let down her guard. Cater to his need for control. A low groan fought its way out. Damn, she was perfect for him.