Shanda nodded, “You damn well better. Shit, I’m the most badass bitch you know, so you need to worship the ground I walk on. Now, where’s the waitress? I need another drink.”
They spent the remainder of their time laughing about any and everything. It hadn’t seemed like such a long time since they’d last spent time together. Sitting here now, Camille knew even two weeks was too long to be away from her best friend. She wouldn’t be doing that shit anymore. If Tristan didn’t like it, he could get over that shit. She would no longer ignore her sister for dick. It was some good ass dick, but dick, nonetheless.
“Hello, ladies,” Tristan’s voice broke through their laughter.
Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
“Hey, Tristan. Here to pick your lady for an afternoon of kinky sex?” Shandra raised her eyebrows up and down in that Charlie Chaplin motion again, which caused both her and Camille to bust out laughing.
Since she never held her tongue when he was around, Camille thought he must be getting used to her outrageous statements. “If that’s what she wants. How many drinks did you two have?”
The frown on his face was cute. She couldn’t help running her fingers across his brow. Plus, she wasn’t telling him how many drinks they’d purchased. He’d just fuss and shit, and she didn’t feel like a lecture today. She was having fun with Shandra.
“Tristan, don’t frown so much. It makes you look mean.”
Sighing, he grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles as he brought it to rest on his thigh. “I am mean. You just choose to ignore it.”
“Well, I think you’re mean,” Shandra interjected. “Then again, she needs someone mean, ‘cause her ass is just as bad. Did she ever tell you about the time a few years ago when we went hunting—”
“Shandra,” Camille yelled out. Giving a small shake of her head, she glared at her friend. “Tristan doesn’t need to know about that right now.”
“I just think he should know what he’s getting into. We’re a package deal, mama.”
Nodding, she knew Shandra was right. Eventually, he’d have to know, but today wasn’t that day. “I love you, Bitch.”
“Hmph, whatever, Bitch. I love you right back.”
Turning to Tristan, who bore a look of curiosity, amusement, and confusion, she leaned over and kissed him softly. “Hi.”
A smile curved his beautiful lips. “Hey, beautiful. You ladies all done?”
“Yeah, just let me get the check.” Lifting her hand, she waved to their waitress.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled it back down. Shaking his head, “Don’t do that. I have accounts at each restaurant in the city, and if I don’t, they know how to find me.”
Shaking her head, she looked at him with shock, “You what? No, I’m not leaving without paying.”
“Camille, come on. Grab your jacket, Shandra. I’m going to have Orlando drive you home.”
Even after two months of being with him, she still learned something new every day. Giving up the argument, she grabbed her purse as they exited the table, making their way to the door. All eyes were on them as they navigated between the tables and booths. Some gazes were envious, probably wondering how she’d managed to snag a man like Tristan.
If they knew who he was, they probably assumed she was a fling, a paid toy, or hisgoomah, or mistress in American terms. Fuck them if that’s what they thought about her.
She also noticed a few gazes that didn’t look that friendly. A few men, and women, where shooting icy daggers of hatred in their direction. Those were the ones who probably thought they knew all about Tristan, his family, and what they stood for. They didn’t know shit, but they could sit on their high horses and judge him. She stared a bit longer at these people, almost wishing they’d say something out of line.
Stepping outside, she took a deep breath. All she wanted was to be held in her man’s arms after he gave her that big treat hidden inside his pants. Being needy, like this wasn’t really her style, but Tristan called to something inside her. It made her think crazy thoughts about rings, and babies, and white picket fences. Shit, she shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. No matter what she said to Shandra, it was too soon to be thinking forever.
Tristan’s large hand rested on the small of her back, and it warmed her immediately. Looking at her man as he gazed into her eyes, she softened. Over the past two months, she’d become very protective of him. Not that he needed it, she thought, looking around at his constant companions. These men looked like they could handle just about anything that came their way. She nodded to a few of the men she’d seen regularly.
Glancing up at him, she shook her head and smiled, “I don’t like it when people look at you as if you’re a monster.”
Lifting a hand, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. Her tongue dipped out to touch the top of his thick digit. His chocolate gaze got even darker, which she knew was a sign of his arousal.
“I am a monster.”
Shaking her head, she disagreed with his assessment. “No. A monster could never be as gentle with me as you are.”
“Sweetheart—” he began, but she shook her head to stop his words. Shandra came to give her a hug goodbye, both promising they’d see each other next weekend.