Devour (Twisted Metamorphosis #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

Helena: Pull up to the gated driveway, and input code: 17421 into the keypad. The gate will open for you, and you can park in my driveway. The front door will be open for you. See you at 6, Camden.

In nothing but my boxer briefs and socks, I stared at Helena’s text message on my phone screen. Holding my phone in one hand, I shuffled through my dress shirts hanging in my closet to find the perfect one.

“Fuck, they’re all work shirts. I can’t wear a work shirt to dinner,” I cursed out loud, frustrated.

My gut told me this was a pivotal dinner; something big was going to happen, and I wanted to make sure I impressed Helena with my choice of attire.

Checking the time on my phone screen, I began to get even more nervous. I had twenty minutes before I needed to leave. I was about to give up and grab a work shirt when my eyes found a mystery garment bag tucked away in the back of my closet.

Where did this come from? I don’t remember having anything in a garment bag.

Pulling the mystery hanger out, I studied the bag. Armani? Since when did I have a designer anything? Unzipping a small section, I peeked inside.

What? Where did this come from?

I couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck this ended up in my closet. Most of my clothes were from the cheaper department stores; I’ve never owned anything that cost me over fifty bucks.

My phone’s alarm went off in my hand, telling me I had fifteen minutes left.

“Well, mystery outfit it is.” I said out loud and turned toward my bed.

Tossing my phone onto my pillow, I gently placed the garment bag on my bed, unzipping it completely. I was stunned. There was an expensive-looking sport coat, soft, black dress shirt, dark gray slacks, and a leather belt with a brushed metal buckle.

Unbuttoning the shirt, I pulled it on. The fabric was insanely soft compared to the cheap white shirts I wore to work. It fit me perfectly. It was more of a slim fit shirt, and it stretched gently around the muscles in my arms and chest. With a smile and a bit of a confidence boost, I stepped into the slacks, tucking in the ends of the shirt before zipping them up. They also fit me perfectly, as if tailored to fit my body.

Deodorant.

I turned toward my bathroom to apply my deodorant and took a moment to study my appearance in the mirror on the back of my bathroom door. I nodded in approval.

“Not bad,” I said to myself, admiring how the outfit accentuated the muscles in my arms and thighs.

Returning to the bed, I reached for the belt and looped in through the belt loops of my slacks. Of course, the mystery belt fit perfectly. The brushed silver buckle stood out against the dark gray fabric of the slacks.

Shoes and socks.

“Fuck!” I jumped when my alarm went off again—ten minutes left.

Pulling open my sock drawer, I was confused again, seeing a random pair of brand new, black Armani dress shoes with a black sock folded neatly in each shoe.

What the fuck is going on? I need to check my bank account.

All I could do was stare at the shoes in the drawer, confused. My alarm went off again, making me jump, and I shook off my confusion and grabbed the shoes. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I silenced my alarm before pulling each sock and shoe on, making quick work of tying them.

Tie or no tie? I thought, pulling the sports coat on and walking back to the bathroom mirror. I didn’t want to risk being too formal, so I opted to unbutton the top two buttons, making the look more casual, but still sophisticated.

Phone, check.

Wallet, check.

Keys, check.

I went through my mental checklist as I moved toward the living room, placing each item in my pockets.

Wine, check.

Coffee mug, check.

After dropping Helena off at the field office to get her car, I stopped for a few gifts.

When I ate with Helena in her office, I noticed an almost empty bottle of tawny port wine in her refrigerator. The particular label she had was nearly two hundred dollars at the wine store, so I opted for a still expensive, but not as expensive, bottle at one hundred dollars, hoping she would still like it. I also remember her mentioning her “curse of lukewarm coffee,” so I picked up an insulated coffee mug that claimed to keep coffee hot for eight hours.

Fuck, I hope she liked it.

I had about three hundred dollars in my bank account to last me the next week and a half, and I spent nearly half that on her gifts. Worth it? I sure hope so.

File, check.

Notebook, check.

I hated bringing work with me, but she insisted I do. This dinner was meant to be a comfortable way for me to catch up on the crime scenes I wasn’t a part of investigating, but I couldn’t help but wish this was a date. Work consumed my life, and for once, I wanted to let loose with an amazing woman and not think about murder and death.

Locking my front door behind me, I jogged to my Mustang, parked on the street in front of my apartment building. My hands were shaking with anticipation, and it took me three tries to type her address in my GPS correctly.

“It’s just dinner between two colleagues. I don’t know why I’m so fucked up over this,” I said to myself as I pulled away from the curb.

Every mile I drove toward Helena’s house felt like I was inching closer to where I was meant to be; like everything in my life was leading up to this very night.

I blinked, and all of a sudden I was turning into Helena’s driveway. Pulling her text message up on my phone, I unrolled my window to input her gate code on the keypad.

1-7-4-2-1

While the gate slowly opened for me, I admired her home. It was a two story, modern-looking home. The front lawn beyond the gate was well-kept, and various rose bushes were neatly trimmed and blooming with deep red roses. Driving up the long driveway through the gate, I followed the path of lights along the edge of the cement, parking about halfway up.

Turning off my car, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I reached to the passenger seat and grabbed my cheap looking gift bag, holding it on my lap.

This looks… Ridiculous.

Opting to carry in her gifts without my drugstore-bought gift bag, I exited my car, smoothing out my slacks and placing the wine and mug on top of my car so I could button my coat.

Retrieving her gifts, I took a moment to close my eyes and savor the cool breeze in the air. The cool air calmed my rising anxiety, and I opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings. Circling around the front of my car, my eyes found Helena’s car parked further up in front of a closed garage.

She’s here.

No shit, it’s her house.

Chuckling to myself, I approached her front door and lifted my hand to ring the doorbell. My finger hovered over the button when I remembered her text message.

The front door will be open.

I gently opened the door, stepping inside. Closing the door behind me, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. Helena’s home was luxurious, but comfortable. The wood floors matched the flooring of her office, and she had various pillar candles lit on a console table. Approaching the table, I smiled. She had various picture frames of her and her family.

One photo in particular caught my attention. A younger Helena was holding a certificate, with an older man embracing her in a loving side hug. He had a nasal cannula and a portable oxygen pack slung over a shoulder.

“My father,” she said from behind me, making me jump in surprise. “Oh, Camden, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Turning to face her, I froze; the wind knocked out of me at the sight of her in a skin-tight, long-sleeved, all black mini dress.

Her hair was pinned up on one side with a simple silver rectangular clip, and her soft, brown wavy hair was draped over one shoulder. She wore pearl stud earrings and a matching necklace with a teardrop shaped ruby hanging delicately at the top of her cleavage. The deep neckline of her dress gifted me with a mouth-watering, but tasteful view of her cleavage.

My eyes trailed down her long, slender legs to her signature black pumps, and back up to her blood-red lips, and her intense green eyes. She was a fucking work of art, and fuck, I couldn’t help but wonder what she had on underneath this dress—if anything at all.

Clearing my throat in an attempt to calm my hardening dick, I smiled shyly.

“D-Doctor. Good evening,” I managed to force out.

She cocked an eyebrow at me and smirked, offering me a glass with two fingers of whiskey. I placed her gifts down to accept the glass, downing it all at once.

“Helena, good evening,” I corrected.

“Camden, you look amazing; Armani looks good on you,” she said, giving me a wink. “Would you like another?” I clung to the empty glass for dear life.

How did she—

“This is my father,” she said, picking up the picture frame I was looking at with sadness in her eyes. “He had stage four lung cancer. He forced his chemo nurse to wait for his treatment so he could come to see me graduate.”

I watched her intently as she trailed a fingertip over his face, smiling softly as her walls lowered, gifting me with a genuine look into her mind.

“You miss him,” I said, placing a comforting hand on the small of her back. I was surprised to touch her bare skin. Her dress had a low cut back.

Fucking hell…

“Very much. He was the reason I wanted to venture into psychiatry.” Helena’s eyes scanned the other photos of her father on her table. “The mind is a powerful thing; it has the power to uncover the truths that the naked eye can’t see,” Helena quoted from her book.

“Your father’s words,” I said, watching her eyes as she placed the picture frame back down in its spot. The moment her eyes met mine again, I saw her walls build back up, forcing me out.

“Yes. He was an incredible psychiatrist; I miss him dearly. It was an honor to include him in my book.”

“Thank you for sharing that treasured memory with me,” I said, my thumb rubbing the warm skin of her lower back. My vision got slightly blurry, but I shook it off, not wanting to ruin this moment with her.

She turned to face me, and my hand stayed on her body, shifting to rest on her hip. Instinctively, I placed the glass down so my other hand could rest on her other hip. Her palms found my chest and her hooded gaze bore into mine.

“You really do wear Armani well, Camden,” she whispered, leaning in closer to me.

Gripping me by the lapels of my coat, she pulled my chest to hers, crashing our lips together.

She moaned into my mouth as my hands slid up her naked back as she stood on her toes to wrap her arms around my neck. Deepening our kiss, she nipped at my lower lip and my now hard cock pressed into her. I felt her lips turn up into a smile as she pulled away slightly, her lust-filled eyes scanning mine.

Leaning in toward her ear, I kissed a path from under her ear to her neck, as my hands trailed up further to undo the clasp of her dress in between her shoulders.

“Camden,” she groaned as she allowed the fabric to fall to her waist, pulling her arms out of the sleeves.

“God, Helena, you’re so fucking perfect,” I moaned as my hands found her perfect, perky breasts.

Turning us around so her back was pressed against a nearby wall, my mouth was on hers again as she fumbled with my belt and zipper. I groaned as her warm hand found my cock, pumping me in tight, languid strokes as my slacks fell to my ankles.

Shifting my hands to her thighs, I lifted the skin tight skirt of her dress to her waist, and fuck, she was bare underneath. My fingers trailed up her slit, feeling her hot arousal before I pressed two fingers inside of her. Her hips bucked against my touch, and I removed my hand to scoop my arms under her thighs to lift her.

She released my length, wrapping her arms around my neck again as I lined up her dripping pussy with the head of my cock.

“God, Helena, I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” I groaned in pleasure, digging my fingertips into the soft flesh of her ass as she slowly sank down on my cock. The feeling of her tight pussy stretching for me had me ready to come.

Her back arched off the wall as I was fully seated inside her. Her pussy was so tight, and I felt her intentionally clench around me.

“Fuck, Helena,” I moaned as my legs trembled. She held onto my neck, pressing her chest to mine as she began to rock her hips. Gripping her ass firmly, I guided her movements, my hips thrusting to meet hers as she screamed out in pleasure.

“Right there, Camden. Don’t you dare stop!” she cried out as I clenched the muscles of my ass, slamming my cock into her perfect pussy.

“Oh, fuck, Helena,” I groaned as she took control, setting the pace.

“Camden…”

“Camden?”

“Helena…?”

“Are you alright? You’re sweating.”

“I… What?”

Blinking my eyes, I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. My hand was still on Helena’s hip, and I was gripping the fabric of her dress tightly in my fist.

Fuck, was I dreaming again? How?

Looking down into Helena’s concerned eyes, I felt a cloud of confusion wash over me.

“I, um, I’m sorry about that. I guess I, um, I guess I got lost in my thoughts again,” I said, chuckling nervously as I released the fabric of her dress, attempting to smooth it out with my shaky hand.

Helena gave me a soft, sympathetic smile and tilted her head slightly.

“What did you bring? You didn’t have to bring anything tonight. You’re my guest.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, turning to pick up the bottle with still shaking hands, and handed it to her. “I know it’s not the same as the one you had in your office, but I noticed your bottle was almost empty.”

“Oh, Camden, how thoughtful,” Helena said with a genuine smile.

“I’m not a wine drinker, but I hope it’s a good one,” I stammered nervously.

“Tawny port is my favorite wine to pair with my favorite dessert: cheesecake.” I couldn’t help but notice a little something extra in her eyes. Guilt?

Brushing it off as nothing, I reached for the coffee mug and handed it to her.

“I hope this helps with your lukewarm coffee curse,” I chuckled.

“I’ll have to put it to the test. You really are the sweetest, Camden. Thank you,” she said with a sad smile. “Come, dinner is almost ready. Let’s get you a refill on that whiskey.”