Sexual Awakening [Cavanaugh Series]

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Sexual Awakening

Chapter Three – Decisions, decisions

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Catherine turned onto her side and crawled towards the warmth at her side. She felt a heavy arm wrap around her and found herself cuddling closer to it, but then her eyes shot open in surprise as she looked at Devon’s sleeping face. He breathed in sharply through his nose and peered at her through heavy eyelids after she had tensed at his side.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep as he looked around the room for a sign of danger.

“Nothing...” Catherine replied as she turned onto her back and stared at the roof. She rested her forearm over her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, hoping to fall back asleep as it was still dark outside.

Then she felt Devon shifting closer to her before his arm rested over her stomach and his beard scratched her skin as he nuzzled her neck. She turned onto her side again to face him and he immediately pulled her tightly against him, smoothing her hair out of her face as he sleepily looked into her eyes. His large hand trailed along her side and back, his warm touch igniting her skin as he reached for the hem of her nightgown and slowly started pulling it up. He kissed along her jaw and throat as he cupped her breast under the gown, making her moan as he pinched her nipple. She rested her hand against his chest and hesitantly smoothed her hand over his skin, pausing at his lower stomach. She felt him groaning against her skin and biting her shoulder as he reached down and gripped her ass, pulling her tighter against him. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him slowly as she turned her head to look at his face. He had a slight frown on his face, his lips parted as his face was contorted in pleasure. She felt a wet trail of precum on her skin as the head of his cock rubbed against her bare stomach while she jerked him off faster. He groaned and squeezed her butt cheek tightly before moving his hand lower, rubbing her pussy from behind through her panties. She moaned and rested her forehead against his as she squeezed his cock tightly. He immediately captured her lips with his and kissed her deeply, moving his tongue hungrily against hers as they pleasured each other with their hands.

He shifted closer to her and pushed her onto her back before he settled in between her legs, reaching in between them and pushing her panties aside. His hand gripped her hair tightly as he guided the head of his cock to her pussy and they both moaned loudly as he pushed into her tight hole until he was all the way inside of her. He immediately started moving her hips as he fucked her, pushing her hard into the mattress with every thrust. She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts eagerly and moaned loudly against his neck as he fucked her. His grip in her hair tightened and he tugged her head back forcefully, making her scream and look at his face as he fucked her harder. She dug her nails into his back as he hit that spot deep inside of her over and over again, pinching her eyes closed as she started coming on his cock. He collapsed on top of her and knocked the air out of her lungs as he groaned loudly, his body shaking as he filled her with his warm cum. They lay quietly for a while as they caught their breaths, but then she nudged his shoulder slightly when his breathing became suspiciously deep and slow. He groaned sleepily and shifted off of her, laying on his stomach at her side with his arm and leg weighing her down. Catherine turned her head to look at him, but saw that he was already blissfully fast asleep half on top of her. She sighed softly and closed her eyes, trying to find a comfortable position with his warm limbs covering her before she eventually also drifted asleep.

A few hours Catherine stood beside Devon, who was still sprawled out and fast asleep in her bed. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the alarm clock on the dresser, then turned her bewildered eyes onto him again. She was not sure if she had the guts to wake him up, but also had to leave for class. She sighed softly and then quietly made her way out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She surveyed the room for her bag, and saw it next to the couch – along with her tattered and torn dress. She walked over to it and picked up the dress, inspecting the damage he had done. She loved that dress. She folded it up neatly, thinking that she would ask her mother if it was redeemable. Her eyes widened at the thought. On second thought, the reason the dress was torn was not exactly something that she would want to share for her mother! She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, casting one last wary glance at the closed bedroom door before she left her apartment.

Even though she went to varsity, she might as well not have been there. The day passed in one big blur. She had not gotten a good night’s rest next to Devon the evening before, the thought of the dangerous man in her bed being too unnerving. And her being on the wrong side of her own bed was far too disorientating. Yet another sleepless night, thanks to him! Although it was convenient to blame him for her guilt, she could not say that she did not enjoy what happened. There was something so intriguing about him.

She was seated in the varsity studio, blankly staring at the canvas with a paint brush in hand, but was too deep in thought to notice that Matt stood next to her. He gently touched her shoulder, making her gasp and jump in her seat, turning her head to look at him. He held up his hands and laughed awkwardly.

“It’s just me!” he said and smiled gently at her. She smiled apologetically as she looked into his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit jumpy...” she explained as she put the unused paint brush on the easel.

“What’s up?” he asked as he sat on the empty stool next to her. Her eyes shot to his and she desperately tried to think of a good lie.

“...I, uh, haven’t been sleeping well,” she blurted out eventually, and hoped that he would want her to elaborate. He nodded his head understandingly as he looked at her painting.

“A bit of a block?” he asked, and she turned her eyes back to the half completed painting. She just did not feel inspiration for it anymore. She felt like painting much darker, more sinister things.

“I guess you could say that,” she said and sighed heavily.

“Hey, it happens to all of us,” he said and reached out to touch her shoulder reassuringly. She turned her head and smiled weakly at him, “Is something bothering you?” he asked, the interest in his eyes genuine. Catherine looked at the canvas, taking in the bring colours, then looked back into Matt’s blue eyes that were gleaming with curiosity.

“...I am just not feeling this anymore,” she explained as she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at the painting, “I’ve been having these...dreams,” she offered and glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“Yeah?” he asked encouragingly as he looked at her. She nodded her head slowly and then looked into his eyes. They always helped each other out when one of them had a creative block, and that was all what he was doing now. “Like what?” he asked when she did not respond.

“Like...” she said and gave it some thought, “Like, I was a tiger in one dream. An albino tiger. I was walking freely in a forest. But then I started drowning in this black sea,” she said and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Hmm...” he said and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “A tiger represents...power, I think. A white tiger, well... I guess that could mean something along the lines of innocence, purity. And that being washed away by a black sea... as if your control and purity is being washed away by something sinister?” he asked. Catherin stared wide-eyed at him and swallowed hard, thinking that she had told him too much.

“Ah, who knows with dreams anyways?” she said dismissively as she turned towards the canvas again and picked up the brush, but still could not get herself to continue.

“Cath,” he said as he stood up beside her, “You don’t have to continue with this. If something else is inspiring you, perhaps you should go with that?” he asked and smiled gently at her. She sighed and then slowly nodded her head, a faint smile creeping onto her face. “Good!” he said and put his arm around her shoulder, giving her tight squeeze as he looked at the painting she was busy with, “But maybe hang onto this one for later?”

“Yeah,” she said and leaned in against him, enjoying his embrace, “How did it go with Amy?” she asked, recalling he had had a date the day before. He smiled as she stepped away from her, and she could tell that it went well.

“Great, thanks! I am taking her to the movies tomorrow night,” he said and smiled brightly.

“Awesome,” Catherine said as she stood up, returning his smile before she walked past him and washed her hands, “Listen, if prof asks, I am rather going to paint at home. Not feeling very inspired here,” she said as she dried her hands.

“Okay,” he replied, but his attention was already drawn to something else, and Catherine followed his gaze to see that Amy had just stepped in through the door. He was drawn to her like a magnet and almost floated across the room towards her.

“See you later, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She greeted her friends as she walked outside, breathing in the summer air and loving the sensation of the sun on her skin. She retrieved her phone from her pocket and read a message from Hilary, but the phone beeped in complaint, as she had not charged it the evening before for obvious reasons.

15:03     Wanna come over for dinner? 7ish x

16:30     Yeah, cya then

She stuffed the phone back into her bag and then started taking her usual route home, but then stopped dead in her tracks when she suddenly recalled her repressed memory of leaving Devon asleep in her bed. Would he still be there? Surely not! ...Maybe not? Hopefully not...

She resumed walking at a faster pace, her heart racing as she almost jogged home. When she turned the corner of her street, she found herself slowing down, suddenly not knowing why she was so eager to return home. She certainly did not want to drown in a sea of black, no matter how dangerously alluring it was.

“Miss Bennington!” Jeremiah, the florist, said from her side, making her jump. His face dropped immediately when he saw her anxious, pale expression, “Are you alright, child?” he asked in concern as he stepped closer to her.

“Uh,” Catherine managed and tried her best to smile at him, “Yes, Mister Jones!” she replied cheerily, but her tone of voice was too high, “Just a bit stressed, that’s all...” she said dismissively and then looked around for a distraction, “What a beautiful bouquet of flowers!” she said excitedly and immediately picket it up out of the bucket.

“Why, thank you, child,” he said and chuckled pleasantly, but his eyes still showed concern. She pulled cash out of her bag and handed it to him, but he waved it off, “If that brightens your day, that’s enough payment for me!” he said as he touched her shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Mister Jones,” she said and winked at him as she put the cash in the tip jar, eliciting another chuckle from him as she turned around and crossed the street to her apartment. She breathed in the fresh scent of the flowers as she stood in the lift taking her to her apartment.

She suddenly did not feel as anxious anymore, but still quietly turned the key to open the door of her apartment – just in case. She pushed it open and peered inside, carefully surveying the room that looked exactly the same way that she had left it. She put her bag down next to the front door and put the keys in a bowl as she closed the door behind her. She quietly walked through the living room and looked inside of her bedroom, where the bed was made, but the used glass still stood on the nightstand. She picked it up and looked around the room for any changes, but being unable to find any, she returned the glass to the kitchen, placed the flowers in a vase on the kitchen counter and then made herself a cup of tea.

She walked to the easel in her living room and looked at the painting of Devon’s dark eyes as she sipped on her tea. It seems like this was her inspiration now. Her phone beeped another complaint from her bag and she sighed as she retrieved it, plugging it into the nearest charger. She then placed a new canvas on the easel and pulled her stool closer before she settled comfortably on it, looking at the blank canvas for a while as she thought of what to do. Suddenly feeling inspired, she reached for a pencil and then started drawing the outlines of her new painting, her conscious thoughts stopping as she became engrossed in the artwork.

A couple of hours her phone started ringing, almost making her ruin the painting as she flinched at the unexpected sound. She placed the paintbrush on the easel and wiped her hands clean with a rag as she rushed over to her phone.

“Ohh, shit,” she said under her breath when she saw that it was Hilary, then answered it and held it to her ear, “I am on my way!” she announced, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Liar,” Hilary simply said from the other side, but Catherine was relieved to hear the humour in her voice.

“See you now!” Catherine said and they quickly said their goodbyes before she hung up. She rushed to the bedroom and ran a comb through her tousled hair a couple of times before giving up and tying it up in a bun. She washed her face and hands, brushed her teeth and then quickly stuffed her wallet and cell phone into her handbag before she scurried out of her apartment. She walked in the direction of Hilary and Jaimie’s house, hailing every passing cab until one eventually pulled up next to her. She gave him directions to their house and then relaxed in the seat, looking out of the window as he took her to her friends’ place. It did not take long to reach and she had his money readily waiting in her hands, quickly jumping out and heading up the stairs leading to their front porch. She did not have to knock on the door and simply opened it, placing her handbag on the small table near the entrance before she walked into the living area, where there was a lounge, dining area and kitchen, the latter being separated from the living area by the kitchen counter.

“Cath!” Jaimie said excitedly from the couch, where she was lounging in her pyjamas.

“Hey,” Catherine said and walked over to her friend, giving her an awkward half-crouched hug, “How are you?”

“Well, thanks! Just bummed around today,” she said as she flicked disinterestedly through the channels on the TV.

“Cath!” Hilary called from around the corner, apparently hidden away in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Catherine replied as she obligingly followed her friend’s voice, where she found her standing behind the stove, “That smells great,” she said as she looked at the roast chicken that Hilary had just taken out of the oven. Apparently she was not late after all.   

“Thanks! How have you been?” Hilary asked as she started dishing the chicken and salad onto three plates.

“Okay, I guess,” Catherine said as she walked to the fridge and poured juice for all of them.

“Just okay?” Hilary asked as she walked over to the table on the other side of the counter, placing placemats and cutlery on the table.

“Just been having a bit of a block... but I managed to get some work done this afternoon,” Catherine said and smiled at Hilary as she helped her carry the food to the table.

“Jaimie, dinner,” Hilary said in a suspiciously motherly tone, and Jaimie immediately jumped up from the couch and claimed a seat at the table.

“Yum!” Jaimie said excitedly and picked up the utensils, immediately digging in, “I’m starving!”

“Why? All you did all day was eat!” Hilary replied jokingly as she took a bite of chicken, making Jaimie roll her eyes.

“Skipping class is harder than it looks,” Jaimie retorted as she continued eating happily, but then focused on Catherine, “So...that guy the other night?” she asked and observed Catherine closely, who shifted uncomfortable in her seat.

“What guy?” Hilary asked, pausing mid-bite and looking quizzically between the two of them.

“You were too drunk to remember,” Jaimie said dismissively, then had a devious glint to her eyes as she set down her knife and fork, “Catherine here...disappeared for a while on Friday night, presumably with that guy she was eye-fucking the whole evening.”

“No!” Hilary gasped exaggeratedly and grinned broadly at Catherine, “Did you do it?” she asked bluntly. Catherine cast her eyes down to her plate and shook her head no, but the deep crimson blush colouring her cheeks told the truth.

“Ahh!” Jaimie shrieked excitedly, “Was he any good?”

“How big is his schlong?” Hilary chirped in.

“Where did you do it?” Jaimie continued.

“Guys...” Catherine said awkwardly and pushed a tomato around on the plate, casting a wary glance at Hilary, “Schlong...seriously?” she said sarcastically.

“Oh, come on!” Jaimie said pleadingly and pouted at Catherine, “You never share.”

“Because there’s never anything to share,” Catherine said and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Man, don’t sulk! Just tell us!” Hilary said and was basically bouncing in her seat with excitement. Catherine looked into her eyes for a while, then Jaimie’s, before she sighed deeply in defeat.

“Fiiiine,” Catherine said, but then did not know how to proceed. Recalling their earlier string of questions, she cleared her throat before she answered, “We went to...his office.”

“Ohhh!” Hilary said and they giggled as they looked on eagerly for her to elaborate.

“...Where we did it...” Catherine continued tentatively, unsure of how much detail they wanted.

“...Aaaand?” Jaimie encouraged.

“He is huge,” Catherine suddenly blurted out in response to Hilary’s earlier question, making both of her friends squeal in delight.

“Does he at least know how to use it?” Jaimie asked once they settled down.

“...Yeah...” Catherine said and smiled shyly at him.

“That’s it! We’re going to Xtasia tonight!” Jaimie announced and pushed her plate away as she stood up abruptly.

“No!” Catherine said quickly and sat upright in her chair. Her friends frowned at her and she swallowed hard before elaborating, “I kind of...ran into him...last night...” she said uncertainly.

“What!” Jaimie shrieked in delight once again, “You don’t mess around, do you?” she asked as she sat back down, making Catherine roll her eyes.

“I don’t think he has the best...influence on me,” Catherine explained to her friends.

“What do you mean?” Hilary asked as she frowned at Catherine. Catherine looked at the glass in her hands and considered how to respond.

“He’s kind of...all-consuming? If that makes sense?” Catherine said, and then elaborated when she noted her friends’ confused expressions, “Like, I can’t get him out of my mind if I’ve...been with him. Everything I paint relates to him,” she said and turned her desperate eyes to her friends’. Hilary had her usual maternal-concerned expression on her face, whereas Jaimie was frowning deeply at her as if she was an idiot.

“So he’s your muse? That’s awesome!” Jaimie said and grinned at Catherine.

“Hmm...yeah, it’s not often that people get that inspired in their art,” Hilary observed reasonably, but somehow also sceptically.

“...I don’t know...” Catherine said dejectedly as she sank down in her chair again. Were they encouraging her to go along with it?

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Jaimie asked.

“...He’s kind of dangerous, I think,” Catherine said and looked at her friends. Jaimie’s smile just broadened, while Hilary looked even more sceptical.

“A bad boy! The best kind!” Jaimie announced excitedly, eliciting a smile from Catherine as Hilary gathered their plates.

“Why is he ‘dangerous’?” Hilary asked from the kitchen as she placed their dirty plates in the dishwasher. Catherine thought about it for a while and then shrugged.

“...I don’t know exactly...” Catherine replied hesitantly.

“There must be something that makes you think he’s dangerous,” Hilary said and leaned against the counter as she looked at Catherine for a response.

“I can’t place my finger on it,” Catherine half-lied and her friend nodded thoughtfully as she walked over to her again.

“Hmm... I think that you should follow your gut feeling,” Hilary advised reasonably.

“I don’t think he’s interested anyway,” Catherine said dismissively as she stood up from her chair and walked to the living room to take a seat on the couch.

“He’s not interested, but you saw him twice?” Hilary asked as she sat down next to Catherine, taking a sip of her juice as she looked interestingly at Catherine.

“It was just...sex,” Catherine said, struggling to find the right word. Rough, forceful, exhilarating sex.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Jaimie asked as she stretched out on the other couch, “I mean, you’ve only been with Brad, and we all know that he was a downer in the sack. Maybe this guy can teach you how it’s supposed to be,” she said with a smile in her voice as she continued her incessant flicking through the channels.

“Oh there! Lets watch that!” Hilary said excitedly when she spotted a movie. Jaimie scrolled back a few channels and then settled on the movie. “But don’t do anything you feel uncomfortable with, Cath,” Hilary said and smiled sweetly at her.

“I just need to think about it,” Catherine said and returned Hilary’s smile, before looking at the TV as they all watched the movie. But Catherine’s mind was somewhere else, mulling over what to do.

 

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“Baby I’m a sociopath, sweet serial killer...on a war path, ‘cause I love you just a little too much,” Catherine sang along to the music as she stood in front of canvas, moving her head along to the music as she carefully painted the fur of the white woman-wolf that she has been struggling to perfect over the last few days. She was drawn out of her flow when the buzzer from downstairs rang, indicating that there was someone at the front door. She frowned as she placed the brush on the easel and cleaned her hands, glancing at the clock on the wall as she walked over to the intercom. She was not expecting anyone, therefore looked at the small screen displaying who was at the door. She could see a man dressed in what seemed like a deliveryman’s outfit, impatiently shifting his weight from one leg to the other before he buzzed again, more insistently. Delivery on a Saturday? she thought to herself.

“Come on up,” Catherine said into the headset and pressed the button to give him access. She opened the door and waited for him to travel up to her floor, watching the numbers counting up as the lift travelled upstairs. He stepped out of the elevator and made a beeline towards her, holding a white box with a purple ribbon wrapped around it in his hands, his clipboard resting on top of the box.

“Catherine Bennington?” he asked when he stopped in front of her.

“Yes...” she answered and looked curiously at the box.

“Please sign here, and the time is 13:50,” he said as he held out the clipboard to her in an impatient manner. She quickly did what she was told, and then he was gone just as quickly as he had arrived, leaving her alone with the mysterious box in her hands.

She stepped back inside of her apartment and kicked the door closed behind her, frowning down at the box as she walked over to her kitchen and placed it on the counter. She crossed her arms and looked at the box for a while, not sure if she wanted to open it or not, especially considering who she suspected it was from. Her curiosity got the best of her though, and she stepped closer to it, carefully removing the ribbon that surrounded the box. She opened the lid and then moved aside the soft tissue paper. She frowned at the item she saw inside the box, carefully feeling the dusty blue fabric in her between her fingers. She lifted the dress out of the box and held it out in front of her. She frowned and looked inside of the box for a note, but found nothing. It must be from Devon... she thought, as it was the only logical explanation she could think of.

She took the dress to her bedroom and quickly stripped of her clothes before slipping on the dress, opening her cupboard door so that she could look at her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door. She held up her hair and turned this way and that, noting how the fabric moved gracefully with her every turn. She let go of her hair and sighed as she looked at her reflection. Damn it. Why did he have to make contact? It had been more than a week since she had last seen him, and she figured that his lack of contact made her decision of whether or not to pursue his muse-like qualities fairly clear cut. She took off the dress and then hung it on a coat hanger, putting it in the cupboard and firmly shutting the doors with both hands. She turned and went for a shower, suddenly feeling anxious and confused again.

She stepped out of the bathroom and walked to her closet, opening the doors and staring at her clothes. Her eyes kept falling on the pale blue dress, but she grumpily shoved it to the side, until she settled on a white summer dress. Careful to put on underwear that would not show through the dress, she then proceeded to dry her hair until it fell in dark waves down her back. She captured a few tendrils of hair in a beautiful black-and-diamond hairclip that Hilary had given her for her birthday, securing it on the back of her head while most of her hair cascaded down her back. She quickly put on some eyeliner and mascara as well, before grabbing her handbag and heading out of the house, suddenly feeling very cabin feverish.

The air was warm and thick around her as she walked down the street in the direction of Chino’s, which was one of her favourite coffee shops that lay in between the campus and her apartment. She felt the tension leaving her body as she strolled leisurely, the sun rays baking her shoulders. She went into a few shops she passed, trying on clothes, smelling perfumes and strolling through food markets on the corners of the streets. She loved Saturday afternoons. Her stomach grumbled a complaint and she considered rather buying something to eat at the market, but then turned around and headed in the direction of Chino’s, remembering her craving for one of their cinnamon twist pastries.

She walked up to the coffee shop with a smile on her face, but then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Devon sitting at one of the tables outside. He was sitting there all sexy and casual, his hair slicked back, sunglasses covering his eyes and his white v-neck t-shirt showing off every lean part of his body. He was seated next to the redhead woman from the club, but his attention was on the waiter at his side, casually motioning his hand as he placed his order. Catherine was just about to turn around and run, but then, as if sensing her eyes on him, he turned his face directly towards her. She could not see his eyes through his sunglasses, but the slow smirk that spread across his face was unmistakably evidence that he had spotted her. Walking away now would just seem childish. She stood there completely dumbfounded, barely noticing when a waiter stepped to her side to assist her. She only looked at the waiter when he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Table for one?” he asked politely and reached for a menu. Catherine’s eyes darted from the waiter to Devon, not knowing if she still wanted to stay if he was going to be there. Then she saw Devon lifting his hand and summoning her to his table with a simple flick of the wrist.

“Uh...” she told the waiter as her eyes anxiously darted to him, then back to Devon, whose face was expressionless as he observed her. The redhead next to him seemed to have noticed her too, as she looked disinterestedly at Catherine, “I am meeting a...acquaintance,” she finally answered and then stepped past the waiter, slowly walking towards his table.

“Catherine,” Devon said in his deep voice and motioned for her to take a seat at his side. She obligingly took a seat and looked at the redhead sitting across from her, “Valerie,” he introduced and Catherine smiled at her, but the redhead merely took a deep drag of her cigarette.

“Pleased to meet you,” Catherine murmured nonetheless and looked at her hands in her lap.

“So I’ll set up a meeting for Monday, lunchtime,” Valerie said to Devon, not bothering to return the pleasantries. Devon looked amused, but it was difficult to tell with his eyes being shielded by the sunglasses.

“Fine,” he answered Valerie, his eyes not leaving Catherine. He was drinking in the sight of her, noticing how beautiful she looked with the sun hitting her dark curls. Valerie looked at him with annoyance when he was paying her no heed, then impatiently stubbed out her cigarette.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Valerie announced, pleased to finally see Devon’s face turn to her again as she stood up.

“Alright,” he replied impassively as he reached for his Irish coffee and took a sip. He raised his one eyebrow at her when she stood there unmoving, but then she nodded in acknowledgement to Catherine before she turned around and left.

Catherine stared wide-eyed as the woman departed, not sure if she was ready to turn her face back to Devon’s. Instead she opened a menu and peered at it as if it was the most interesting thing she has ever seen. She heard him chuckle and peered curiously at him from the corner of her eye. She was about to ask him what was so funny, but then the waiter stood beside her with a notepad in hand, ready to take her order.

“What can I get you?” the waiter asked politely.

“Um...” Catherine said and looked at the menu again, “Can I please have an iced coffee...and a cinnamon twist,” she said and closed the menu, handing it to him.

“Coming right up,” he said and turned on his heel. Catherine sat back in her seat and looked at Devon, but was surprised to see his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. Now what?

“Do you not like the dress?” Devon asked, his voice dripping with annoyance. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and interlaced her fingers on her lap.

“So that was from you?” she asked instead as her eyes scanned over his features, wishing for the first time that she could actually see his eyes to read his expression. The corner of his mouth curved up in a slight smirk before he took another sip of his coffee.

“Expecting dresses from other men, then?” he asked with that smirk in place, but she could hear the dangerous edge to his voice. She frowned at this and looked at her hands instead.

“I was not expecting any dresses from anyone,” she answered, feeling much braver if she did not have to look at him.

“I figured that it’s the least I could do, after I tore that dress off of your sexy body,” he replied bluntly, and Catherine’s eyes shot to him, then darted to the people sitting at the tables around them, wondering if any of them heard. She heard him chuckling at her startled response, and immediately felt annoyed with him and with herself for falling into his little trap. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table as he murmured softly, “And I am resisting the urge to do the same right now.”

“Devon...” Catherine said softly, but jumped slightly when the waiter arrived with her order. She shifted back in her seat, but Devon remained unmoving, that annoying smirk remaining on his face as his never turned away from hers. She reached for a straw and placed it in the iced coffee, very self-consciously taking a sip as Devon watched her.

“How have you been?” he asked unexpectedly as he lounged back in his seat again. She looked at his face, and frowned at herself when she found herself resisting the urge to run her fingers through his dark, dishevelled hair. He smirked at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking when she did not answer.

“I’ve been well, thanks...” she replied awkwardly, unable to pull her eyes away from his handsome features as they sat there in silence for a while.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? It’s only common courtesy,” he said sarcastically, that hint of a smile still on his face.

“H–how have you been?” she stuttered, finally being able to look away from him as she turned her attention to the pastry. She did not feel very hungry anymore, but tore off a piece nonetheless.

“Tired,” he said and she looked curiously at him, not having expected that response, “I have not rested as well as I have in your bed,” he added, smirking to himself when he saw her eyes widen.

Is he being serious? “Oh...” she replied and then stuffed another piece of pastry in her mouth, not knowing what to say.

“In fact, I was thinking of coming over for that reason alone,” he continued, “You’d be amazed at what a good night’s rest can do,” he added. She cleared her throat awkwardly and glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing his teeth as he grinned broadly at her. He clearly loved making her feel uncomfortable.

“I wish I could say the same about your bed,” she replied before really giving it some thought, but it was the best comeback she could think of under pressure. She cursed herself mentally for her stupid remark when his grin broadened even more as he leaned closer to her again.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said as he reached out and rested his hand on the back of her neck.

She turned her eyes to his, but could only see her own reflection in his sunglasses. She slowly reached up and saw his smile falter slightly when she carefully started taking off his sunglasses, putting it on the table and looking into his eyes. The look in his eyes was intense and difficult to place as she peered at him. He seemed to be waiting patiently for her, and she knew that this was the moment where she had to make up her mind. The moment she had avoided for more than a week. Many thoughts ran through her mind at that moment, but somehow she kept reaching the same conclusion. His eyes narrowed slightly and, as if reading her thoughts, he knew what she had decided.

“I should warn you,” he said just above a whisper as he leaned closer to her, “I won’t stop until have all of you.”

Catherine closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling his breath on her neck, “I know,” she replied softly and turned her face to look into his eyes. She saw that spark in his eyes intensify as he grinned at her, then he stood up and held out his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and he wrapped his long fingers around her hand, pulling her up to stand in front of him. And she knew that there was no escape as he started guiding her towards his car.

 

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Rate. Review.

Acknowledgements

Lyrics: Serial Killer by Lana Del Rey