Page 11 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

I adjusted my watch and looked back at Sade. “Yeah. Enjoy the rest of it.”

He sat up straighter. “Hold on. You paid for our table?”

“I paid for several. Yours just happened to be one of them.”

Sade’s mouth twitched a little at that. Not a smile. Not quite. But it was there.

I caught it.

That was all I came for.

“You should call,” I told her. “If you care about the community you grew up in.”

I walked off before either of them could drag it into something else.

When I sat back down, Camille was returning, heels clicking against the floor, face brighter now, liquor seeping through her polish the way I knew it would. She slid into the booth and reached for her glass.

“Did I miss anything?” she asked.

“Nothing worth repeating.”

She pouted, then smiled.

I looked at Sade once more out of the corner of my eye; they were gathering to leave.

She had picked up the card.

She wasn’t reading it. Just holding it between two fingers, and then she dropped it back down on the table.

By the time dinner was over, Camille had leaned all the way into drunk. Her words were slower. Her hand stayed on my dick under the table too long. I walked her out because I was raised to. Sade was already gone, but when I looked at the table, she had left my card and rose on the table.

I knew she did before I even walked past and saw it.

And somehow, that irritated me less than it should have.

Because at least she was still acting like herself.

At least one woman in this city hadn’t changed. I broke the stem and stuck the rose in my coat pocket and followed behind Camille before she fell in her heels.

I took her back to my condo because I was still stuck in cycles I had not fully decided to leave. All I could think about was fucking her from the back, spitting in her mouth, then sending her home in an Uber before the sun came up.

On the elevator ride down, she pressed herself against me and smiled.

But my mind was not on her.

It stayed upstairs where Sade had been.

On the brief flicker in her face that told me I had gotten under her skin just enough.

$$$$$

We made it outside just after midnight.

I walked Camille to my car, unlocked it, and opened her door. She smiled like that meant something. It didn’t. I just had manners.

My Hellcat sat low. It was midnight blue with black rims and tinted out. This wasn’t my business car. This was my “by-night” car. Phantom League Car Club stamped into the back window the way everything else I owned carried a piece of me somewhere.

She slid in, adjusting her dress before pulling out a small mirror and freshening her lip gloss.