Orlando motioned for her friend to enter a black SUV idling a few feet in front of them. Tristan led her to his usual vehicle. Leo was taking over for Orlando while he took Shandra home.
Settled in the car, Tristan pulled her across his lap. Kissing her softly, he leaned his forehead against the head. “I don’t like it when you’re not next to me.”
“I know. But it’s been so long since I last saw her. I miss her, Tristan. I work all day, then I see you every night. Even my weekends are taken.”
A frown creased his brow. “What’s that mean?”
Using one of her fingers, she brushed the tip against the frown lines covering his face. “It means nothing, except that I miss seeing Shandra. You know, I had a whole life before you.” She’d said it in a joking tone, but there was some truth to her words. Not that she’d give up any of her quality time with Tristan. Not one bit. But she’d also like some balance back.
“Baby, what’s that look on your face?” he asked, just as he trailed one of his hands up her thigh.
Looking into his face, she knew things wouldn’t stay like this forever. Something had to give, and she was afraid it was going to be her. She loved this man. Yes, loved.
And with that love came her underlying fear that something would happen to pull them apart. She knew there were secrets he had to keep from her, which she accepted. For now.
How long she’d accept his need to keep a part of himself hidden from her? She didn’t know the answer to that question. Plus, she had her own secrets that weren’t ready for primetime just yet. Would he look at her differently if he knew the hunting trip Shandra alluded to was to hunt the men who hurt her best friend? Would he judge her too harshly if he found out what she, Shandra, and D had done to those men once they’d found them?
Soon, she’d have to decide just how far she was willing to go down this road. She had to be all in, or all out. There was no in-between in Tristan’s world. They were playing house, but the moment of truth was coming soon. Camille wasn’t sure she was ready to pay the price for her decisions.
“Camille!” Tristan yelled her name, getting her attention. “Where were you just now? You blanked out.”
Not ready to divulge her secrets just yet, she smiled seductively. “I was just thinking about how I want to strip you out of those pants. How I want to climb over your body, placing my tight pussy over your thick cock.”
His hands squeezed her legs tightly. At the grimace that came over his face, she knew he was regretting her choice of clothing. Black leggings and a long red button-up shirt with a black belt.
“You’re killing me, Camille.”
“Don’t worry. We have fifteen minutes to your house. Let’s see what trouble we can get into.” Sliding off his legs, she reached over to undo his belt. “Let’s see if I can make you cum before we get to the house.”
A loud hiss escaped Tristan’s lips, “Fuck me.”
“Not yet, but soon.” With a smile, she got down to pleasing her man.
CHAPTER 8
Tristan knew something was going on in Camille’s mind. From the time he’d picked her up from the restaurant earlier today, she’d had some shit going on in her head. He wanted to make her tell him what the fuck was happening, but he knew it would cause a fight.
His woman was nothing if not feisty. When they first met, he thought she was shy, almost introverted. After a few weeks of being with her, getting to know her, he’d learned fast that she was none of those things.
Hell, she could throw down drinks with the best of them. Cursed like a sailor. Wielded a hammer and saw like no man he’d ever come across. Shot a Glock .9mm, almost better than some of his guys, which they weren’t too happy about. And her temper was quick to burn, and it burned hot. Then again, he’d also realized she was loyal to those she loved.
Her parents were always her number one priority, then her best friend Shandra, and then her friend Dwayne, or D, as she liked to call him. That last one he’d had a real issue with at the beginning. He may not be as old school as his uncle wanted, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to have an unknown man with his dick swinging around his woman.
He’d made a point to meet up with Dwayne outside of the neighborhood where he lived. He didn’t want to get tongues wagging about why a Lucarelli was hanging out in the wrong neighborhood. It could send the wrong message about what type of business the family was into. No, that wouldn’t do at all.
The conversation with D had been interesting, with neither of them giving an inch. Considering he was Camille’s friend, and Tristan couldn’t put a bullet in his head without feeling her wrath, he’d tried a new tactic. Instead of going in guns blazing, he had a conversation. Yeah, that shit wasn’t normal at all, but he’d done it for the sake of his woman.
“Camille belongs to me. Remember that.” Tristan leaned against his car, hands in his pocket. If anyone saw the two of them, they’d think it was a friendly conversation. Maybe.
“Camille belongs to no one. She’s her own person. Plus,” giving him a long look, “she doesn’t know you’re here trying to scare me away.” D laughed and shook his head. “Man, if she had any idea of this little conversation you were planning, we wouldn’t be here,” Dwayne responded with just as much venom in his tone.
“I’m only warning you once.” Tristan’s frustration was increasing. Who was this guy to speak to him like this? Eyes squinting in anger, he was trying not to lose his temper and do something he’d regret.
“I know who the fuck you are, Tristan Lucarelli, and I still don’t give a fuck. All’s I’m sayin’ is, Camille is my little sister. I’ve been protecting her for almost twenty-five years. I will kill for that woman without a second fucking thought.” Shaking his head, he gave a low laugh, seemingly not worried about how close he was to death. “You want to be with her? Then she’s the one who decides that. If she wants you to be the man at her side, I’m cool with that. Not my place to decide who she keeps in her bed. But recognize that I’m not going anywhere.”
Tristan was tired of this conversation, even as he gave the guy props for not bitching up. “You will if I say so.”
Laughing, Dwayne stood up straight, adjusted his clothing, and stared at Tristan. “I got mad respect for you, Mr. Lucarelli.” Although the way he pronounced Tristan’s name said otherwise. “Not many motherfuckers would cross my path voluntarily. Especially not threatening me about Camille or Shandra.”