What mattered to her was hard work, dedication, loyalty, family, and friends. Did she want what her parents had? Of course. Did she think it was going to be easy? Hell no.
Her parents were a different breed. Their entire generation was. To have what they had, she’d have to kiss a few frogs to find her prince.
Not that she was expecting anything from Tristan, other than a nice dinner, and maybe a hot night in bed. There was no way in hell he’d want more than that. From everything she knew about him, he was a confirmed bachelor, a playboy to the max. He had a different beautiful woman on his arm each week. Even after he dumped them, moving on the next lucky lady, they praised him and his prowess in the bedroom. Oh yes, the man had a reputation that preceded him. If she were lucky, she’d get to find out firsthand.
Looking at the clock on the wall, she noted the time and smiled. If she could have one night with theDeath Bringer, she’d jump at the chance.
When he’d asked her out, she knew what her decision would set in motion. Being with him would either be an unforgettable moment in time, or she’d regret her decision for the rest of her life. But she couldn’t say no to him.
Her brain told her to walk away, to deny him.
Her body, and her inexplicable desire for him, overruled all reason.
Would she walk away unscathed? Probably not.
Did she care? Not if he was able to deliver the goods the way she hoped.
Touching up her lipstick, she smiled when she heard the doorbell. Right on time.
Looking out the decorative side window near the front door, she saw Tristan waiting for her. Opening the door, she smiled at him as he took in her form from the top of her head to the bottom of her shoes.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“You look beautiful,” he responded. Stepping closer to Camille, he wrapped one arm around her waist. “May I?”
The scent of his cologne mixed with his natural scent washed over her, and she almost sagged in his arms. “Yes,” she gasped.
Lips descending, he captured her mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. His teeth nipped and pulled as he deepened the kiss. Moans filled the air as she felt proof of his arousal against her stomach.
Raising her arms, she grabbed his biceps with her hands, intent on bringing him closer. Pressing him to give her more. One hand trailed down her body, gripping her plump ass in his large hand. The other hand wrapped around the back of her neck, at the nape of her hair, controlling her movements as he continued overwhelming her senses.
Fuck dinner. Camille was ready for dessert.
Just as she was ready to kick off the god-awful heels and invite him to her bedroom, he pulled back. Releasing her lips with a soft peck, Tristan whispered her name. “Camille.”
“Hmmm?” Her eyes remained closed. She didn’t want to let go of this moment. It felt too good. If she stayed right here, she could hold on to this feeling a while longer.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Opening her eyes, she stared at his face.Where have you been all my life?She dared not voice that question out loud.He’s not the type of man who’d want something long term with someone like me.Maybe tonight will help me make the leap and really begin to look at dating seriously.
As a plethora of emotion came over his face, shock, mirth, confusion, and something akin to anger, Camille took a step back. Moving her body out of his arms, she was about to ask what was wrong when he spoke instead.
“Why wouldn’t I want something long-term with you?” His voice was calm, but she knew instinctively that he was very interested in her answer.
Wait! “Um, how did you…. Oh, shit. I said that out loud?”Damn, Camille. You and your mouth!
Nodding, he reached out to her, pulling her back toward his large frame. “You did. You also asked where I’d been your whole life.”
Camille dropped her head back, looking at her ceiling. She prayed to God above that she was having a delusion. There was no way she’d said that out loud. Tilting her head up, she looked at him.
He stood there with a smirk on his face, “I’m glad you realize we’ve both been waiting for each other. But I’m still confused about why you think I wouldn’t want something long-term with you.”
Did she really want to go into all the cultural and familial reasons why they’d never work? Him, Italian. Her, African American. Him, next in line to run a criminal enterprise. Her, a goody-two-shoes, tax-paying citizen. Okay, maybe the goody-two-shoes part was a bit too much. But still, the concept was sound.
No, that conversation would be too heavy for a first date. Plus, she still wanted to have her dessert after dinner. And from the feel of Tristan’s thick length pressed against her hip, she would be in for a treat.
Consequences be damned. She wanted him, and she was going to have him. Even if only for one night.