Camille

 

“So these are all the old ones, then?” Shayna asked as she and Camille stood beside each other with their hands on their hips. They had collected all their old artwork in the back storeroom of the bookstore and now stood staring at it. They exchanged looks and smiled.

 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening, Camille!” Shayna clapped her hands, and they both laughed in excitement.

 

“But we have to make new ones as well, these can’t be the only ones we use,” Camille said, pulling out her phone from her pocket which had started ringing. It was Devin.

 

“Hi,” she said, walking out of the storeroom and leaving Shayna by herself.

 

“Hello, gorgeous,” she heard him say, and she blushed, even though he was nowhere in sight.

 

“I was just checking in to see how things are coming along,” Devin said, and Camille stood leaning against a bookshelf, twirling one of her curls around her little finger.

 

“They’re going well, we’ve collected all our old ones in one place and have to decide on the new ones I want to draw,” she told him, picturing Devin in front of her now - what he might be wearing, his chocolate brown eyes, his wide shoulders, and how much taller than her he was.

 

“That’s good. Has Evangeline been behaving herself?” he asked, and Camille suddenly felt lost in his voice for a few moments, before she regained her composure and nodded.

 

“Yes, she’s been very helpful, thanks. She calls me every few days to coordinate and has given me lots of useful tips,” Camille said, realizing at that moment that her happiness knew no bounds. For the first time in her life, everything was going well. She had her first art show coming up, in the best and biggest gallery in the city. She had Devin, who even though she didn’t share a defined relationship with, she was just happy knowing that he was in her life. Camille couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“Very good. Looks like Evangeline has finally grown up.”

 

“Yeah, she said that she’s deciding on a price and that we can price them quite high. She’s confident that they will all sell.” Camille was unable to contain her excitement, and Devin laughed when he heard her sound so happy.

 

“I miss you, Camille, we should get together again, soon,” Devin said, and she felt like her heart was about to melt.

 

“When do you want to meet? I’m free all this week.” Camille bit down on her lip. She didn’t want to sound this excited, but she couldn’t help herself; Devin’s voice was irresistible.

 

“I’m not sure when we can meet. I have a big project this week so it might not happen. But you should know that I’m constantly thinking about you. I have to go now. Good luck with your art,” he said and then hung up.

 

Camille listened to the white disconnected noise at the other end of the line and continued chewing on her lip. This was Devin’s appeal: he left her hot and cold, pulled her in and then pushed her back. And for some strange reason, she liked it. He was unpredictable, and she felt like it was dangerous for her to place her heart in his hands. But she wouldn’t have it any other way; she couldn’t even think of a life without Devin now, even though she barely knew him.

 

“Are you done? I have a few ideas I want to run by you.” Shayna appeared, and Camille nodded. She could think about Devin all day, but there was work to do.

 

“So you know how you said you want to make Cammy the central theme? Make each artwork a symbol for feminism?” Shayna said, walking back towards the storeroom. Camille followed her, but her brain was still filled with thoughts of Devin.

 

“Well, I was thinking that we could use colors to symbolize a different kind of evil in each drawing. You know, like red for spilled blood. A dark navy blue for men in uniform who take up positions of power against women.” Shayna was talking fast, as she always did when she had a big idea. Camille was barely paying attention, but she nodded anyway.

 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” she said, giving a wide genuine smile.

 

“Great, I’ll go and start working on a narrative then,” Shayna replied, turning around to give Camille a tight hug before walking out of the storeroom.

 

Camille was the one left alone with her old paintings now. She stared at them, blankly and silently. Most of the artwork was of Cammy, the superhero from her comic book. Some others were of landscapes, torn down buildings, and roughed up small towns. They were all a reflection of where she had grown up; the unrest and evil she had witnessed as a child.

 

She was a long way away from all that now, Camille thought, the smile disappearing from her face. She was lucky to have found a friend like Shayna, a man like Devin, and the kind of opportunity he and Evangeline were giving her. She wondered if she had misjudged Evangeline too quickly at the exhibition. Evangeline seemed like a completely different person now. She was warm, friendly, cooperative and most of all, she seemed like she genuinely cared about Camille’s artistic success.

 

She forgave Evangeline for her cold and unfriendly behavior the other night. She smiled because she understood her - it couldn’t have been easy to let go of Devin, get over him, and then watch him attend her party with someone else.

 

Camille stared at her phone in her hand again; she missed him already. But there was work to be done, and new art to be drawn. Her destiny was waiting for her, and Camille was ready now, more than ever, to grab it by the horns.

 

***

 

Camille threw her keys on the couch and switched on the electric kettle. She had already had dinner with Shayna earlier at a restaurant, but she was craving some hot milky tea now. Her apartment was a mess; she hadn’t bothered to clean up much in the past few days. Her attention had been entirely on Devin and the upcoming art show. The rest of her life, the bookstore… everything had taken a backseat for the time being.

 

She made herself a cup of tea and sat down on the couch, resting her feet on the low coffee table in front of her. She could see her own reflection in the window on the opposite wall. She was in a short denim skirt, a cotton top, her hair was in its usual unmanageable curly state, and she hadn’t bothered with makeup that day. What did Devin see in her?

 

Devin. She reached for her phone and stared at the screen blankly. She missed him; she craved to hear his voice. But he seemed so far away. Before she could stop herself, she was dialing his number.

 

“Hi, gorgeous.” He answered the call within the first few rings.

 

“Hi. Just wondering what you’re up to?” Camille smiled, snuggling into the couch, and pulled the soft throw over her legs.

 

Devin laughed and then sighed. “I just came back home. I had a long day at work, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” He sounded sexy and irresistible.

 

Camille placed her mug of tea on the table and leaned back into the couch. She could perfectly imagine his chiseled face, his wide smile, and his tattooed back.

 

“And what are you going to do now?” she asked huskily. Even though they were on the phone, Camille felt like she was alone with him. Just the two of them.

 

Devin sighed again and took his time to respond. “Maybe lie here on my couch, dreaming of you and your perfect breasts,” he said, surprising her with his directness.

 

Camille couldn’t stop herself from giggling, and then she bit down on her lip and sighed. “I wish you were here with me. Then you wouldn’t have to dream of my breasts,” she replied, and Devin drew in a deep breath.

 

“No, then I’d be ripping your clothes off you. I’d want those breasts in my mouth.”

 

Camille found her hand traveling down her belly to where she was beginning to grow wet. She hadn’t done something like this since she was a teenager! How was he able to turn her on with just his voice?

 

“Touch them, Camille. For me,” she heard him say, and she did as she was told. She grabbed her breast, the left one, and squeezed. She moaned and closed her eyes, and heard him take in a sharp breath.

 

“Now flick your nipples, squeeze them… you know how I do it.”

 

She did that too. She hadn’t touched herself like this in a long time, and for some reason, it felt natural. Her nipples were pert and raw, and she winced when she squeezed them, enjoying the sharp pleasurable sensation. She licked her lips as she imagined Devin’s hands on her body, his large warm hands on her skin and playing with her nipples.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked him breathily.

 

“I’m touching myself, stroking my dick,” he said, and she could hear him beginning to breathe heavily.

 

“I want to touch it too. Suck it, wrap my tongue around it.” Camille was shocking herself by the words she was using. Devin took in a sharp breath of air, he must have been surprised as well, but at least it turned him on.

 

“I want to be inside you, Camille. I want to rip off your panties with my tongue and stick my fingers inside you.”

 

Camille moaned again. She had started stroking herself as well, making herself wetter with each passing second. She could picture Devin naked in front of her. His tattoos, his ripping muscles, the ease with which he carried her around, and how small she felt with him over her. Camille shut her eyes tightly and started stroking more vigorously.

 

“I want to make you cum, Camille. I want to see those breasts swing,” he said, and she threw her head back. She had forgotten that she was pleasuring herself; her fingers stroking herself were Devin’s fingers. She pushed her underwear aside and slipped in two of her fingers, and heard herself moan loudly.

 

“I’m going to ravage that body when I see you next, Camille. I’m going to lick every inch of you. Pump into you until you tell me to stop.” Devin’s voice had become heavy, and he was breathing raspy. She could sense that he was pushing himself over the edge. He was stroking himself thinking of her, and they were both losing control.

 

Camille had never managed to pleasure herself this way. She had never bothered to, and she had never felt this good either. Now her fingers were inside her, sliding in and out, her juices were seeping out, her fingers were sticky and wet, and she was touching herself there, where Devin had managed to touch her. She was close to her orgasm, and she screamed his name.

 

“Devin! I’m going to cum!” she yelled, and Devin groaned.

 

“Cum with me Camille, let me cum inside you,” she heard him say before her mind lost all control. She was on a high, her body writhed and her hips moved of their own accord. She gyrated against the cushions on her couch while her fingers remained inside her. It was too exciting and felt too good for her to fathom.

 

When her breathing subsided, she heard Devin laugh a little. It was a laugh of satisfaction.

 

“Sweet dreams, Devin. I have to go now,” she told him and ended the call. The smile on her face remained as she held the phone in her hands and sunk back into the couch. She was going to sleep well tonight.