“WHY IS Cami girl pouting in the corner like somebody took away her puppy or something?”
It was Camilla or Cam to anyone else in her life, but at the salon she used along with August, the ladies always called her Cami. At first, she had tried to correct them, but found it didn’t make a difference. Honestly, she quickly learned that nicknames were the way these stylists showed they liked a person. It was when they didn’t give a client a nickname that a person had to be concerned about a missed clip, or a fucked up fade.
August was currently half way through getting her micro braids put in—a protective style she would keep for likely the whole winter. They had already been at the salon for going on four hours, and would probably be there for another few.
Camilla didn’t mind. The salon was one of her favorite places, and Chilla’s Styles was the only business she allowed to touch her hair now. The ladies knew how to work any kind of hair, weren’t afraid to tell Camilla she was going to lose all her hair if she didn’t relax with the chemicals, and August had been going here for years.
“Seriously, look at her,” Chilla said as she finished another micro braid on August’s head. “She’s all sad over there—she’s got a new pink fade, a blow out, and she might as well be boohooing.”
“I am not,” Camilla said.
“Girl, don’t you lie to Chilla. I’ve known you since you were sixteen, Cami. You’re all smiles whenever you get your hair done up.”
Camilla scowled, and looked out the window. She was not in the mood to talk. Well … really, she just didn’t want to talk about what was bothering her.
August snorted. “Her newest boy toy is heading back home today, I guess.”
Chilla raised a brow, and took another look at Camilla. “That so? Got your heart turned up for a boy, huh?”
“No,” Camilla said. “I’m not turned up for anybody.”
“Then why did you say that like you’re all pissed off or something?”
Laughter filled up the salon from the other stylists and clients. Chilla was too good at her job—both wielding the tools to style hair, and keeping her patrons entertained. Camilla was not usually the topic of conversation, though.
“It didn’t go the way it usually does for her this time around,” August filled in. “Somebody didn’t break hearts this time. He seemed to be pretty cool with how she rolls.”
“And she rolls right back out of their life, right?” Chilla asked.
August laughed lightly. “Exactly.”
“So what’s the problem, Cami girl? Isn’t that your deal with people? You’re just out for a good time, not a long time. There isn’t anything wrong with saying you might have found somebody you don’t want to roll on.”
Camilla let out a long sigh, and knew there was no way she would be able to get out of this conversation now. “Actually, I thought he might say goodbye.”
Silence echoed back.
She looked to August and Chilla. Neither woman moved. Chilla, already working on the next micro braid, had stopped working altogether. August stared at Camilla as though she had suddenly grown a second head.
“What?” Camilla asked. “Is there something on my face?”
August smirked. “Other than love?”
Camilla made a gagging noise in the back of her throat. “That nonsense doesn’t exist, thanks.”
“You’re going to tell me that you don’t believe for a second your father loves your mother to death?”
Fine.
“So for some people, it happens. For me, it’s like a unicorn. It doesn’t exist.”
“Does too,” August said in a sing-song fashion.
“Stop your moving, Aug,” Chilla said, getting back to work on the braids. “Maybe the boy was just following your lead, Cami girl. Decided to roll on out like you always do.”
A small piece of Camilla seriously hoped that was not the case. A larger part refused to let her admit it.
“Not a boy,” August said quietly, “very much a man.”
Chilla cocked a brow, all interest and a sly grin. “That so?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome. Blue-eyed. Cute.”
“You didn’t even meet Tom,” Camilla said to her friend.
August shrugged in the chair. “She told me about him. He’s also got a good nine—”
Chilla whistled loudly, stopping August from saying more. More laughter lit up the salon, but the stylist passed a glance at the preteen girl having her natural hair combed out in the next chair. “That’s enough, Aug. We’re going for family appropriate here.”
“Yeah, August, shut up,” Camilla grumbled.
“Sorry,” August said.
“But not really,” Chilla finished for her.
August grinned, but stayed quiet.
The growl of an engine outside the Brooklyn salon took Camilla’s attention away from the conversation. For the moment, she was grateful.
Then, the car with the sexy noise came into a view. A black and red Bugatti supercar with silver accents pulled up to the curb directly in front of the salon’s bay windows. Camilla’s gaze widened at the sight of the beautiful piece of machine.
Next to a good fuck, Camilla liked fast cars.
Liked them a lot.
Just the sleek lines and sharp body of the Bugatti was enough to make her wet between her thighs.
And then he stepped out of the driver’s side.
Tommaso.
Camilla’s heartbeat raced, and thumped hard in her throat. She hadn’t even realized that she was standing from the chair until she was at the front door.
“Is that him?” she heard Chilla ask behind her.
“Fits the description,” August said.
“My God, isn’t he something to look at.”
“Right? She needs to get a picture of that just to keep,” someone else said.
“Cami girl’s about to get happier, ain’t she?” Chilla asked.
“Jesus, you have no idea how much I hope so,” August said.
Camilla wasn’t paying them any mind. She stepped out into the cool, late September air, and tightened the bomber jacket around her neck to keep the breeze out. Tommaso leaned against the passenger side of the Bugatti with the kind of grin that could melt her fucking panties off … if she didn’t throw them at him first.
She realized in that moment she had not given Tommaso enough credit when she described him to August. His fit, lean form looked damn good wearing a black suit, and looking like he was ready for some black-tie event. His gaze lifted from the ground to her as she stepped out on the curb. All it took was him swiping his thumb along his bottom lip, and Camilla swore between him and the car, her panties were done for.
At least she had gotten the all man part about Tommaso right when she filled August in.
“Don’t lean against that car,” Camilla admonished him.
Tommaso chuckled. “What, why? Do you know how much money I paid to switch my rental for this? And all for one single day, too. Well, I only get to drive it for one day.”
She didn’t understand what he was talking about, but it didn’t much matter, either.
He gestured at her hair. “The pink is new. I like it.”
“I change it up often.”
“How often?”
“Often enough that I don’t know what my natural color is anymore.”
Tommaso laughed loud and hard, and fuck him for looking that good while doing it, too.
“How did you know I was here?” Camilla asked.
His gaze darted to the salon behind her. “You do know there’s like fifteen people in the window watching us, right?”
She looked over her shoulder.
He was right.
Camilla gave them a wink, but quickly went back to Tommaso. “Everybody likes soap operas, Tom.”
His brow furrowed.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Again, how did you know I was here?”
“Someone let me know.”
“My brother?”
Tommaso tipped a hand over, saying, “Someone.”
“You couldn’t text me?”
“I thought a face to face might be better. Also,” he said, as he stepped away from the car while gesturing toward it at the same time, “I thought you might like to drive me to the airport.”
Camilla’s heart skipped a damn beat. “Seriously?”
“Someone else mentioned you liked fast cars.”
“That’s why you traded your rental in for this?”
“I mean, are we playing twenty questions, or are we driving?”
Camilla waffled between Tommaso, or going back inside. “August is still getting her micro braids put in.”
“August doesn’t give a shit!” someone yelled out the open salon door.
Tommaso’s laughter came out dark and heady. “Oh, I get it, now. Soap operas. Do you gossip in salons as much as they do on the television, too?”
“Yes,” someone else shouted from inside the salon.
Camilla glanced up at the sky, and almost wished the heavens would open up to swallow her whole. Tommaso’s voice brought her back to reality.
“You can drive, babe.”
He dangled keys, and let them jingle.
Her gaze wavered between Tommaso, the keys, and the Bugatti that looked like it was made to race and sin all at the same time.
“God, I love that car.”
“Good.”
“Was it my dad that told you I liked fast cars?”
Tommaso’s grin said it was her father. “Maybe. How did you know I talked to him?”
“My mom let it slip. You never mentioned it to me, though.”
“You made it pretty clear you weren’t up for anything other than some fun where I was concerned, Cam. I’m still good with that, babe. You know?”
“Is that why you went and did this?”
She waved at the car.
Tommaso didn’t give away a thing. “Really, I just figured since I was heading back to Chicago today it might be fun to hang out for a bit. Had you given me a chance, I would have taken you out to see a movie or dance. Your father said you liked that kind of stuff, too, but I was left with using your one other weakness.”
“Fast cars.”
He laughed. “Fast cars, Cam.”
“You’re heading to the airport right now?”
“Yeah.”
“And you want me to drive you?”
“Yep,” he said. “Well, we need to stop at my hotel first to grab my bag.”
“How am I supposed to get back?”
She assumed the car would need to be left there for pickup.
Tommaso smiled. “Have some faith in me, Camilla. Do you want to drive this beast, or not?”
He jingled the keys again.
“Yes, she does!”
This time, it was August who called out.
Tommaso looked far too smug for his own good.
Camilla snatched the damn keys. “Let’s go.”
Camilla pulled the Bugatti into the underground parking garage of the hotel Tommaso had been staying at during his time in New York. She assumed he had been staying with Cross, but apparently not.
“You coming up?” Tommaso asked.
“Was this in your plans, too?”
“Pardon?”
“Get me here for one last fuck before you go?”
“No, actually I was having breakfast with your brother when they called to say the Bugatti was ready to be picked up. I went from there to the salon, and I’ve got just enough time to get to the airport at the moment. So again, do you want to come up, or are you good here?”
Okay, so that was a little bitchy of her.
Tommaso didn’t even call her out on it.
“Go get your bags,” Camilla said. “I’m good here.”
“Suit yourself, babe.”
Camilla did get out of the car to get a second look at it after Tommaso had disappeared into the elevator at the other end of the garage. She traced the car’s beautiful lines with her fingertips, but nothing more. Leaving smudges on its paint job would be a sin, really.
She had bent down to wipe a speck of dirt off the grill’s emblem when Tommaso’s voice came from behind her.
“Do you two want to be alone, or …?”
Camilla stood with a laugh. “That was fast.”
“I was gone fifteen minutes, actually.”
She wasn’t even ashamed that she had gotten lost in the car. “It’s one hell of a vehicle.”
“I’ll remember you like it, then.”
“And what’s what supposed to mean?”
Tommaso’s lips quirked up at the corner. “Means nothing, Cam. You ready to head to the airport?”
For a long while, she simply stared at him. He stared back, unmoved.
“Don’t make a big deal out of what I’m going to ask, okay?”
“Depends on what you ask,” Tommaso countered.
Camilla rolled her eyes. “Just … we can keep in touch, right? While you’re back in Chicago, I mean?”
“I was kind of hoping we would, yeah.”
“But we’ll still be—”
“Friends,” Tommaso interjected, and arching a brow. “You’re not very used to this, are you? The whole friends thing?”
“Not with benefits,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“Someone might catch feelings, or something. Isn’t that what always happens? Somebody catches feelings for the other person and ruins the whole thing.”
Tommaso chuckled. “Camilla, don’t be crazy.”
Something akin to hurt stabbed at her chest. “What, like somebody couldn’t feel anything for a girl like me?”
Instantly, Tommaso’s grin faded. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I meant, it’s a little late for either of us to be worrying about that sort of nonsense, Cam. I walked out of your apartment the next morning thinking you were the girl of my fucking dreams.”
“You don’t even know me, Tom.”
“Nope, I thought that before I knew you liked cotton candy, or that you want to become a NICU nurse. I thought you were pretty fucking spectacular when you picked me up at a party, and barely even had to try. I like the way you run your life like it’s nobody else’s business, and I like where you come from. I still don’t know a whole hell of a lot about you, but I would like to on your terms. That’s it, and that’s all.”
A knot formed in her throat at his admission, and her chest tightened. She liked it—liked that he felt something for her, and was willing to say it out loud even if it meant she might bolt like a scared little deer.
Still, Tommaso stared at her, and kept her pinned in place with the intensity of his blue-gray gaze. “But it’s like this, Cam, you’re just not up for that with me, or anybody. That’s fine; it is, really. Besides, we can keep playing this little game you’ve got going on for as long as you need to, but it won’t make a difference in the end.”
“I don’t … understand.”
“I’m not the only one who caught some kind of feelings here, Cam. Otherwise, you wouldn’t give a shit if you ever talked to or saw me again after today.”
His statement made, Tommaso moved past Camilla to get back in the passenger side of the car. She stopped him by grabbing onto his wrist, and pulling hard enough to spin him back around to face her.
“You think that’s why I asked if we could keep in touch?” she asked, unable to hide the defensive tone coloring up her words.
Tommaso smirked, and came close enough to Camilla that he crowded every bit of her personal space. She was forced to look up at him, and every breath she took was saturated with the scent of his woodsy cologne.
“That’s exactly why, Camilla,” Tommaso said. “That’s why you agreed to be friends. Why you let me break your rules. It’s why you didn’t tell me to fuck off when I came to your school, and why I’m here right now. But we’ll play your game, babe, for as long as you need. You do you, and I’ll be over here doing me.”
“You’re … you are …”
Tommaso’s grin deepened. “Need an adjective?”
“Frustrating, Tom. You’re incredibly arrogant and frustrating.”
“All of that and more, yeah.”
His smug smile was still firmly in place. She almost wanted to wipe it right off his face, but she didn’t. It seemed like her mind and body were not in agreement at all. One part of her was as angry as she could ever be—indignant that he called her out like that—while another part was extremely turned on.
“This does not accurately reflect how I feel right now,” she told him with narrowed eyes. “Just so you know, Tommaso.”
“What’s this?”
“This!”
She reached up and grabbed his jaw, letting her manicured fingernails dig into his olive-toned skin as she pulled him in for a kiss that burned straight through her body. Like a fucking forest fire that had just caught a breeze, the intensity kicked up in her blood stream, thickening the heat in her body with every strike of his tongue against hers. It burned out of control, and devastated every rule and line she had in those moments.
He had been right.
She hated it.
His kiss reminded her of the way he fucked—strong and brutal. Every inch unforgiving and demanding. All hot and not a taste of sweetness to be found. Enough to make her wet and weak at the same damn time.
Tommaso groaned a sexy rumble as one of his arms wrapped around her back. He dragged her even closer to his body, and then grabbed her ass. In one moment, Camilla had been standing on the ground. In the next, she was lifted and sat down on the hood of the Bugatti.
She was all too aware that they were in a public underground garage, but that didn’t seem to matter to her overheating body at the moment. Unashamed, and needing some kind of friction to soothe the sudden ache between her thighs, she widened her legs to let Tommaso slip in between them and get closer.
His erection grinded against her jeans. Like a silly, horny teenager getting her first taste of what pleasure might feel like, she moved her hips to feel more—to get more. She fisted his blazer and kept him tight against her body. His fingers dug into her backside, pulling her into the hard ridge of his cock.
Rhythmic and constant.
Firm and persistent.
Tommaso’s lips ghosted over her throat, and his teeth left bite marks on her collarbones. He sucked on her neck as she trembled, and probably left a nice mark behind there, too.
As his mouth drifted to her ear, Camilla felt ready to explode.
All his sinfulness came back in a blink.
A few quick words.
Pretty slut. And, gonna come rubbing on me like this? Where’s your self-control, Cam?
With him, she had none.
Camilla couldn’t find it in herself to be ashamed.
Not at all.
It was only when Tommaso’s lips found hers again, and he kissed her hard enough to make her mouth go numb, did the pressure finally release. She orgasmed with nothing but the pressure of his dick rubbing against her clit through her jeans.
And somehow, Camilla wasn’t even surprised.
“Holy fuck,” she mumbled into Tommaso’s neck.
His laughter rumbled all over her body in the best of ways. She was still rocking her hips against his groin, and trying to get the last bit of that feeling she could. Thankfully, the garage was still empty, and she considered getting down on the ground to her knees right then and there to repay the favor.
Tommaso’s fingers gripped tightly onto her thighs, and stopped her from moving. “Christ, you have got to stop, Cam, before you make me come in my pants like a damn fool.”
Breathless, she tossed her head back and giggled. “Like you just did for me?”
“Hey, that takes skill. It doesn’t take anything at all to do it for a guy, thanks.”
She shook her head, and he kissed her mouth softly. The sweetness in the action made her still.
Tommaso didn’t miss it for a second. “Hey, what’s that for? Why’d you go cold like that on me?”
“I … I can’t take you to the airport,” she said quietly.
Tommaso kissed her quivering chin, and then her frowning lips. “Why not, babe?”
“Because you were right about what you said earlier. I’m just not sure what I want to do about it. I haven’t been sure since the day we went to Luna Park. That’s why I avoided you.”
“Already figured that out, Cam. That doesn’t change anything.”
“It does for me, Tom. So we’ve got this great physical attraction, like nothing else, and I don’t want to get it confused for something else. You know? I need to figure out if it’s something else, or just nothing playing games with my head.”
“Camilla—”
“I can’t figure it out when I’m still messing around with you on the physical side of things. That’s all.”
“All right.”
That was all he said.
All right.
Not like he was pissed off, or even disappointed. Actually, he smiled at her, and then kissed the tip of her nose in the sweetest way. Camilla didn’t even do sweet because she was far from it, but here Tommaso was … and shit, it only made him that much more attractive.
“I’ll call a cab to take me back to the salon where August has my car,” Camilla said. “You should go—don’t want to miss your flight.”
Tommaso pushed away from Camilla with a chuckle. “No worries on the cab. I’ll call one for me. This car is rented for another week—they don’t do these luxury brands by the day at that place. Shame to waste it, right?”
Camilla let out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Someone said you liked fast cars, babe, and I couldn’t pass it up.”
Every single word he spoke was another fissure crack inside her walls. Every touch, smile, and move he made was another fist clenching around her heart.
Camilla was not ready for this kind of thing.
She didn’t know how to do this kind of thing.
Tommaso was unfazed. “Drop the car off to your brother when you’re done with it at the end of the week. He knows where it has to go.”
“You’re killing me here, Tommaso.”
In ways you can’t possibly know.
He only smiled again.
“Call me or something, Cam. Keep in touch. You know you want to.”
She didn’t say yes.
She didn’t say no, either.