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  “Tonight? So that you don’t change your mind later,” he asked, and Camille shrugged her shoulders.

  “Sure, if you’re not busy,” she said, and it was Devin’s turn to laugh. She was testing him, and he liked it.

  “We can go back to my place together, and you can find a spot for us to sit and work together.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him. He hadn’t thought this through, just minutes ago when he was in the restroom, he wasn’t sure if he should drag Camille into his life; if she deserved to be hurt and put in harm’s way. But now he was inviting her to his place, plunging her deeper into his life. But Devin couldn’t help himself; he couldn’t resist Camille, not when she looked like this.

  “I can see Shayna has found herself a ride,” Camille’s words interrupted his thoughts, and he followed her gaze. They watched Shayna together. She was standing with a drink in her hand in the corner, laughing loudly as a man leaned into her ear saying something.

  “We can always drop her home first if she needs a ride,” Devin suggested, but Camille shook her head.

  “I’ll go and ask her, don’t go anywhere.” She slipped her hand away from his and walking towards Shayna. She turned once to look back at him and smile, and Devin felt like he already missed her.

  He could watch her talking to Shayna, laughing, looking over to him… and yet he felt like she was far away. He wanted to reach for her and drag her back to him. He couldn’t understand it: what this hold was that she had on him. He could have any woman he wanted, he could fuck anybody, and yet all he wanted to do was hold Camille’s hand.

  She had started to walk towards him again, and they were both smiling at each other. Groups of people got in her way, and she had to walk around them until she was finally only a few feet away. Devin couldn’t wait, he took a few long strides and then he was kissing her.

  His hand traveled to her waist, and he pushed her back as he held her close to his chest. Camille kissed him, but he could feel her lips stretched in a smile. Could she be just as happy as he was? Was it too quick to be this happy and comfortable in each other’s presence? Didn’t she detest him for bringing the Choppers to her store? Wasn’t she afraid of his lifestyle? And jealous of his naked pictures on display?

  Devin breathed in her scent when they parted. Camille had her hands firmly planted on his arms for support and a smile on her face.

  “Take me home, Devin, I can’t wait to draw you,” she uttered, and Devin straightened up.

  “I can’t promise you artist’s material, but I can give you a pencil and a notebook to get started,” he replied, smoothing out his jacket.

  “That’s all I’ll need tonight,” Camille told him, and before he knew it, she was leading the way out of the gallery.

  Chapter Twelve

  Camille

  Devin remained characteristically quiet on the drive to his house, while Camille fidgeted in her seat in silence. She couldn’t believe any of this was actually happening. She had her doubts whether she would even see him again, and here she was in his car being driven to his house so she could sketch a portrait of him!

  Where the car stopped was the last place she would have expected Devin’s house to be. Devin turned off the engine and unlocked the doors and Camille sat in silence again as she watched him walk around the front to open her door for her. The whole time, Camille couldn’t stop staring at the house that waited for them. The car was parked in a large driveway with a marble fountain overlooking the grounds of the house.

  “Welcome to my humble abode,” Devin said with a laugh in his voice, because he could sense her surprise. This was not the kind of house she expected him to live in, and he definitely gave no clue that this was a house he owned.

  Camille grabbed his hand and allowed herself to be led out.

  “Devin… this place is magnificent.” She was fumbling with her words and dying to ask him how he had this much money and what kind of business he ran, but she knew better than to ask. She believed he would tell her more about his life in time.

  The driveway was pebbled, and Camille walked with Devin, hand in hand towards the house. A flight of black marble steps greeted them, with an ornate brass banister. Camille touched the surface of the banister as she took small slow steps up towards the front door. She was still in awe.

  Devin had let her hand go by now and walked quickly in front of her and fumbled around in his pocket for keys.

  “You live alone here?” Camille asked, and Devin turned to her just before pushing the key through the lock on the door.

  “Of course. Why?” He asked, and Camille smiled at him.

  “It’s just strange to find you opening the door yourself. I was expecting a butler or someone,” she said, biting down on her lip. Devin shook his head and smiled.

  “I don’t need a butler Camille. I don’t really need this house either.” He threw open the front doors.

  Camille wasn’t expecting what happened next. A group of dogs jumped up on Devin, smothering him with wet licks and wagging tails. Devin nearly fell back from the force of the dogs. Camille squealed in surprise and delight at the sight.

  She made a quick mental count - there were at least ten dogs jumping on Devin. Different breeds, but mostly all were mongrels, the kind of dogs who are found sad and discarded in the pound.

  “Clearly you don’t need a butler,” Camille said, happiness overwhelming her at the sight of the greeting they were receiving. Devin looked like an entirely different person in their presence too. He was laughing, stroking their heads and clapping his hands.

  “Okay, sit down children,” Devin said sternly, and on command all ten dogs sat down where they were, looking up at their master devotedly. Camille laughed again; these dogs were well trained.

  “Good. Now, go!” he said, and the dogs turned and ran back into the house, paving a path for the two of them to follow.

  Camille hadn’t realized that her hand was on her heart from the experience. A flood of good spirit had taken over her; she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many happy dogs in one place, all lovingly devoted to one man, the man she was falling in love with.

  “Sorry if that scared you.” Devin finally turned to her, and Camille shook her head. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were wide and bright. She couldn’t contain her happiness.

  “Not at all. I didn’t expect that, but your dogs are amazing,” Camille said, and Devin smiled too.

  “Come on in,” he said and led the way for her.

  Camille looked around as they entered the foyer. A large crystal chandelier hung over their heads, as Devin led her into a large beautifully decorated living room.

  “This is the room I visit least. I don’t entertain very often,” Devin said, spreading his arms around him, while Camille took in the sights of the room they were in. It had heavy curtains on the windows, matching upholstery on the couches and chairs, and thick carpet under their feet. The walls were ivory white and had framed vinyl’s hanging as decorations. There were no photographs of Devin, none that bore any resemblance to the ones in the gallery anyway.

  “What’s in there?” Camille asked when she caught sight of an open door at the end of the room. She turned to Devin, and he shrugged his shoulders.

  “That’s my office. It’s a library and study basically,” he said, and Camille didn’t wait for him to lead the way, she walked straight to it. Something told her that Devin’s true self was hidden there.

  This room surprised her as well by how untidy and messy it was. There were large wooden cupboards stuffed with books that lined the walls, a table in the center of the room with papers and files strewn all over it, forgotten mugs of coffee on the table, leather jackets hung from the backs of chairs, and food stains on the carpeted floor. Camille smiled and turned to Devin who had followed her and now stood by the door, looking embarrassed again.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors,” he said, and Camille laughed.

  “So this is the room you sp
end the most time in,” she commented rather than asked, and they both laughed.

  “But you can’t sketch me here, we have to find you a different, better suited spot.” He crossed his arms while leaning on the doorframe. Camille stared at him, taken aback by the charm and casualness that Devin was displaying. She had never seen him more relaxed.

  “Where do you think would be appropriate?”

  Devin narrowed his eyes, trying to think. “I have an idea, follow me.”

  And Camille did just that, with a skip in her step.

  ***

  When Devin had led her to the basement, Camille wasn’t quite sure of what to expect. Why would he want her to sketch him in the basement? But then she saw and realized what he meant. The basement of this house was like no other she had seen before.

  The basement was as large as the floor area of the house and had a rectangular well-maintained swimming pool in the center of it. Surrounding the pool was an impressive home gym, complete with treadmills, exercise bikes, weights, poles, etc. Camille’s heels clicked against the floor as she walked into the gym area, and towards the edge of the pool.

  There were dim lights in the basement, but the pool was lit up so that a blue glow reflected on her face as she stood over it wondering how she had found herself here. Devin was nothing like she had imagined him to be. He didn’t live in a derelict one room dirty studio sharing with his other biker buddies. Devin Rock was actually a successful businessman, who lived in a big house alone with ten well-trained dogs.

  “What do you think?” His voice interrupted her thoughts and Camille turned to find him standing, with his hands in his pockets. He had taken his leather jacket off so that his biceps were now visible, flexed and bulbous. She wanted to cling to him - to his chiseled torso whose outline was now visible underneath the thin material of his t-shirt.

  His brown eyes were focused on her, his jaw was angular and sharp, his lips were small and pink, and his wavy, dark hair was brushed neatly to the side. Camille could feel herself growing wet immediately. They were finally alone again.

  “This will do perfectly,” she said and stood in front of him.

  “I got you the notebook and some pencils.” He pointed at where he had left them on a deck chair by the pool. Camille nodded and smiled. She was nervous around him again; nervous about whether she would be able to keep her composure.

  “What do you want me to do?” Devin asked, and Camille gulped.

  “Take off your shirt,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Then she took a few steps back until her legs touched the chair. She sat down slowly, grabbing the notebook and the pencils in her hands. Her eyes remained on Devin. He didn’t appear to be as surprised by her words as Camille herself was.

  He reached for the bottom of his shirt and peeled it off over his head and threw it on the ground.

  Camille gulped again and pushed away the strands of curls that had fallen over her face. Devin’s torso was exactly the way she remembered it – a rock solid, chiseled, six-pack with a narrow muscular waist. His jeans hung low on his hips, and he stood with his legs apart, looking at her with a smile on his face.

  Camille drew lines on the notebook, trying to get his frame sketched correctly on the page. But she couldn’t concentrate, not when he was standing half naked in front of her.

  “Maybe take off your pants too,” she found herself saying, surprising herself again with the confidence in her voice. Devin obeyed her silently and with a smile on his face. He undid the buttons on his jeans and pulled them down. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, as she had suspected, and now stood fully naked in front of her.

  His shoulders were straight and proud, as was his back. He wasn’t shy; he was confident. He could see the effect he had on her, but Camille tried to hide it. She crossed her brows and sketched more lines on the paper. Devin was the perfect candidate for art; Evangeline was right. Camille could feel her hands shaking as she tried to draw him. He was made of pure muscle and sharp angles, his eyes were dark and shiny, his hair was perfect, and his chest was wide and tough.

  Camille pressed her thighs together because she could feel herself growing wetter. His hands were large as they rested on both his sides. He had simply done what she had asked him to do, silently and without question. He had stripped, but he had stayed on his side, making no move to come closer to her.

  Camille wanted him to come closer, but he didn’t. He probably wanted her to yearn for him, to make her wait until she had no control over herself.

  Only the scratch of Camille’s pencil on the paper made a sound, as she tried to keep her eyes on it.

  When she looked up again, she caught Devin make a movement. He was taking his dick in his hands. Camille’s breath stopped in her throat. She had tried to avoid looking at his dick, but now he was holding it in his hands, stroking it gently while keeping his eyes on her. Camille pressed her legs tighter together.

  Camille let the pencil drop from her hands, and allowed her hand to wander to her chest. Her fingers found the buttons on her white shirt, and she undid the top few buttons. She needed some air - she also wanted to touch her breasts, touch herself the way Devin was touching himself.

  Camille’s mouth opened a little as she watched him. He was looking back at her, with no smile on his face, like all he could think about was her body.

  Camille breathed in deeply when she saw that he was walking towards her.

  “What are you doing to me, Camille Griffin?” He asked roughly when he reached her. She remained sitting on the chair, but he brushed the pencil and notebook off her lap and leaned down to kiss her. Camille welcomed his lips, engulfing his mouth with hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her up with his sheer weight.

  Their tongues were entwined, and she moaned softly, realizing that this is what it felt like to lose all control.

  Devin had lifted her, and while he kissed her, she felt the zip at the back of her skirt being pulled down. He was undressing her. Her skirt fell down, and then his hands moved to her breasts. With one quick tug, the buttons on her shirt were popped off, they fell clanging on the floor, and her white silk blouse fell off her shoulders.

  Devin’s hands went to her breasts as he kissed her, and she could also feel him moving her, slowly inching her towards the wall.

  He pulled his mouth away from hers prematurely, and she wanted more.

  “Turn around,” he ordered in a low guttural growl, and Camille did as she was told. She turned around and found herself facing the wall of his basement. Then his hands were on her waist, and he pulled her butt, and gently pressed the small of her back. He wanted her to bend down. He was going to take her with no preparation. He was apparently desperate for her.

  Camille’s breathing roughened as she placed her hands widely spread apart on the wall. She bent down and felt his hands tug at her silk panties. His hands were large and warm, and he squeezed her butt and then slowly pulled them apart.

  Camille breathed in sharply, but before she could make another move, he was inside her.

  She screamed from the suddenness and the surprise of his dick sliding inside of her. She hadn’t realized how wet she actually was because he slid in easily, fitting inside her. His entire length. Devin groaned, and Camille moaned as well. It felt good, it felt too good, and she wanted more.

  Devin pulled out, and then he thrust into her again. He was strong and forceful, and Camille moved her hips, inviting him in. Her eyes rolled back in her head, as she felt herself dripping wet. Devin pumped into her with increased speed, and she felt her body shake.

  His hands had come around her body to find her breasts. He squeezed her nipples and then held her breasts as he pushed into her. Camille moaned loudly, and her voice echoed off the walls of the basement. He was relentless, pushing and pulling and thrusting. Their bodies shivered and squeaked. She could feel him inside her, reaching her core, and stroking her where she needed to be stroked.

  “Devin!” she screamed h
is name, and when he placed his hands on her shoulders, she felt the pinch of his strength. He was pumping into her, over and over again and her legs were going weak. It was the kind of intense pleasure and pain that was too much for her. She knew she was going to cum; she was going to come hard. Her breasts were swinging, and Devin slammed into her.

  “Come for me Camille, come for me,” she heard him say, and that was enough for her to be pushed over the edge. Her body shuddered as she felt her muscles release. She could feel the juices squirt, and she tried to straighten herself, but he kept her down. Camille screamed, moaned and allowed herself to be deeply satisfied. His hands were still on her shoulders but were now moving slowly to the back of her neck, then the top of her head.

  “Good girl,” he murmured as her body began to relax. Camille was still shuddering from the force of her orgasm, while he remained behind her, still thrusting himself into her.