Uncovering Camila (Wildflowers Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter 9

Marshall stares up at the menu board written in Chinese. “How am I supposed to know what to order? I don’t read Cantonese.”

“But you read Mandarin?” Camila quips.

His silence tells her he does.

She gives him a sideways glance. “Of course you do,” she says sarcastically. “Just get what I’m getting. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“Alright then.” He regards the narrow row of empty tables along the wall. “This place seems really popular.”

“It will be packed within a few hours. But this is the best time to come because their buns are really fresh.”

“I believe you,” he replies.

Marshall looks dubiously at the bowl of macaroni soup in front of him a few minutes later, wishing he hadn’t agreed to let Camila order for him.

“You said that you were going to trust me.”

“Yeah, but there’s deli meat and egg swimming in my soup. I didn’t even eat like this in college.” He pushes the ham around in the bowl.

“It tastes better than it looks,” Camila assures him.

“Will you judge me if I don’t like it?” He holds a spoonful to his mouth.

Camila holds up a hand. “I swear never to judge you for your pedestrian taste in food.”

Marshall gives her a look then smiles. “Will you give me your phone number if I do like it?”

Camila sets down her spoon before her first bite. “I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving out my number,” Camila replies candidly.

Not bothering to respond, Marshall swallows a spoonful and then another. “This stuff isn’t bad.”

Camila smiles and starts to eat, leaving the question hanging between them. She knows what it will mean if she does, and god knows she can’t afford to get in deeper. Besides, he’s the one who turned her down.

It’s not until the bowls are empty and the condensed milk buns have disappeared that he lays out his argument.

“You know, if you give me your number, we’d be able to see each other over other meals like lunch or dinner, or perhaps have coffee at a civilized hour,” he says.

“What’s wrong with breakfast?” Camila asks, wondering how many dates she’s expected to go on before they sleep together. 

“Nothing. You seem to know all the best places, but I thought it would be nice to expand our culinary horizons a bit over other meals.”

Camila rests her elbows on the sticky table and leans forward. “If you have my number, then I will have yours and then you might expect me to reply to your texts. And what if I’m too busy? Will that make you feel insecure?”

“Probably, but that’s my issue, not yours. If I want to text you, then I will and then I’ll check it every few minutes, or maybe get a special C.C. ringtone.”

“Oh yeah, what it would it be?” She laughs.

Marshall mirrors her and props his arms on the table, then moves his fingers over his lips. “Well, to be honest, there’s one song that pops into my head when I think of you.”

“Really? Which one?”

“I can’t say. It’s too embarrassing.”

She kicks him under the table. “Now you have to tell me.”

“No, seriously. Maybe one day, but not now.”

“Or what? You’ll leave me hanging like yesterday?” She says. “You want to explain why you’d turn me down for sex but show up the following morning wanting to take me for breakfast?”

Marshall lifts his shoulders a bit. “I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not usually someone who’ll turn down someone as attractive as you,” he says motioning to her. “But I felt weird ending our date that way, you know, because it was cool, all the walking and talking we were doing. It made me think I’d want to do more of that with you and maybe you wouldn’t want that with me if we slept together.”

“So you held out because you wanted to see me again?” Camila quickly dispels the thrumming in her chest with a deep breath. This is a complication she didn’t foresee or want.

“Look, usually if I’m going to be with someone, I think I should call her or whatever later, but then I realized I don’t have your number or even know what C.C. stands for.”

“And my cousin accuses me of being the one in my head. Why can’t sex just be sex? Why does it have to mean something?”

Marshall shrugs. “I don’t think it has to. I just know what I want if I sleep with someone, and I think if I like the person I’m sleeping with, maybe I’ll want to do it again, you know.” He leans forward so his face is inches from Camila’s. “Or maybe I’ll blow her mind so she’ll beg for more. That presupposes a bit of information sharing, don’t you think?”

“That’s expecting a lot.”

“Not everyone shares your view. Some people actually want a relationship.”

“I’m not one of them,” Camila replies honestly. “Even if it’s mind-blowing.”

Marshall sits back. “You say that now.”

The way he says that triggers Camila’s competitive nature. “Try me,” she says.

Marshall regards her momentarily. His serious expression tells her he’s considering her proposal.

She reaches across the table and traces the male and female symbols on the back of his hand. “Sometimes the company of strangers is nicer than the company of friends. Why complicate things?” Camila can feel the lust start to fill her again.

Marshall swallows, Camila’s touch clearly affecting him. Finally he says, “There’s certainly comfort in not being alone.”

There’s that word again—alone
. If he hadn’t shown up at L early this morning, that’s precisely what she’d be.
Alone
. Not that Camila would’ve minded. The idea of sleeping in
alone
had appealed to her, until Marshall appeared. Now it’s lost that appeal. She wants him more now than yesterday.

“Why do you say that you’re so bad at relationships?” Marshall asks.

“Relationships lead to rules and expectations, and I’m not good with those.”

“It’s not like there’s a rule book,” he tells her.

“Do you think there should be?”

Marshall shakes his head. “Not at all. I think relationships should evolve organically.”

Camila studies his expression. The seriousness behind his intense eyes shows her there’s so much going on in his mind. A part of her can’t help but wonder what he’s not sharing, what he wants to say but is holding back. But she’s not inclined to treat him like a mystery worth uncovering. As far as she’s concerned, people show you who they are by their actions.

He touches the back of her hand that’s resting on the table. “Would this be considered an invasion of your space?”

It’s such a simple question, one that’s supposed to elicit a simple answer, but Camila doesn’t want to speak. She’s focused on the heat that’s beginning to burn on the inside.

She shakes her head. “It feels nice.” When Camila looks up, she catches Marshall watching her.

“I would really like to kiss you right now,” he says in a low voice.

She’s caught in his hypnotic stare. Up close, his eyes are almost a black onyx. They make him seem impenetrable.

“So would I.”

Marshall lifts his hand from hers and cups the left side of her face, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. Camila feels he’s making this more intimate than it needs to be, but it stirs Camila’s desire more. Maybe it’s the fact that despite how honest she’s been, he’s still sitting there, in the middle of a Cantonese restaurant in the heart of Chinatown, ready to kiss her, and he doesn’t know her name.

All of her thoughts completely melt away when their lips meet. The awkwardness of the day before finds its place on some other shelf in her memory, replaced by this sensual kiss. Camila leans forward even more, lifting herself slightly off the chair. The kiss becomes all-consuming, unleashing the fire inside Camila that had been ignited within her the previous day and filled her with a longing she can’t imagine quenching any other way but with him in her bed. Not even Eliseo had shared her bed, but that’s how badly Camila wants Marshall. She’ll take him wherever she can have him.

The fleeting thought of Eliseo doesn’t get to her now. Marshall’s lips have pulled her into the present with their gentle caresses and passionate strokes of his tongue. He takes her face between both of his hands and pulls her to him so they’re standing alongside the table, his body pressing against hers. Camila wraps her arms around his waist, pulling him even tighter to her.

When they come up for air, she says, “Would you like to come home with me?”

Chapter 10

The three blocks to Camila’s apartment feel like the longest three blocks she’s ever walked. Every step makes her heart thump harder. Every breath feels shallower than the previous. As much as she’s screaming for Marshall to touch her along the way, she knows if he did, they wouldn’t make it to the corner.

He follows her up three flights of stairs. When they reach the door to her studio he asks, “Are you sure?”

Camila runs a finger up his neck to the bottom of his chin. With that same finger, she draws him to her, and they start again, this time not holding back. Whatever Marshall had kept reserved at the restaurant is set free by this kiss. Before Camila can get her key in the lock, he’s on her, his lips journeying from her mouth, down her neck and over to her ear. She lets out a small cry when he bites down and sucks on her fleshy lobe. He presses her against the door and lifts her legs around his waist. “I want to hear you say it,” Marshall growls into her ear.

She bites down on her lip as he presses his cock against her throbbing pussy. Camila had no idea how much she’d missed sex. After Eliseo left, she’d shut down that part of herself that craved connection, that wanted to feel passionate about something. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it had been long enough for Camila to forget—until this very second, when her skin is on fire and her pussy is raging with a need that she’s more than sure that Marshall can fill. She trails kisses along his jaw line until she reaches his ear and murmurs, “I want you inside my apartment, inside of me.”

Marshall sets her down. As soon as she turns around, he pulls her hips to him and presses his hands against her stomach. Camila draws her arms up around his neck. She tilts her head to the side, opening herself to him more. His hand slowly travels down from her waist and cups her sex, stroking her clit. Camila shudders. She’s close.
So close
. She groans.

“I think we need to go inside,” he whispers.

Camila can hardly open her eyes. Together they slide in the key and open the door, stumbling into her studio as they remain wrapped around each other. Marshall kicks the door closed and releases Camila from his hold as he quickly removes her silk top.

Marshall doesn’t take his eyes off Camila. They could be in the middle of a hot desert or a freezing tundra, and he wouldn’t care. He couldn’t stop thinking about her since he left her stoop yesterday morning, hating himself for turning her down. He thought it was the respectful thing to do because it was one of the best dates he’d had in years, and he knew he wanted another one with her. It felt natural to be with Camila, even when she was being recalcitrant and challenging. Maybe he should’ve realized that it wasn’t a question of respect. She didn’t need that from him. She wanted sex as much as he did, but he allowed reason take over.

Which is why he showed up at L at three in the morning. He couldn’t sleep anyway. All the
woulda’s
,
coulda’s
,
shoulda’s
were keeping him awake. Marshall knew he had to try one more time, or he’d regret it. He understands that in a city like New York, with millions of people coming and going each day, Camila would forget about him in a matter of weeks if he didn’t see her again. Yet, after the soup and the buns and Camila’s statement declaring that she doesn’t date, he was forced to examine if being with her was worth giving up what he wanted from her.

That kiss answered it for him. It made Marshall feel so many more things than he thought he would when he saw her at L. It’s not love. It’s too soon for that. If he had to define it, it would be strong affection. It spilled over into that kiss at the Cantonese place, one that was supposed to be light and playful but quickly turned fervent and passionate. He knew then that he couldn’t turn Camila down again. He’d be a fool to let her go a second time.

Chapter 11

Camila leads Marshall to the opposite end of the studio where her bed lies behind a large vintage four panel wood screen. She sits down on the edge of the bed and looks up at him. “Are you sure?” She repeats his question back to him.

“Absolutely positive,” he replies, bending down to kiss her lips. It’s soft and tentative, like it was over breakfast. He wants her to know he can be gentle with her if she needs him to be. Although by the intensity of her kiss, he can guess that she wants more than that.

Camila unhooks his light gray linen pants and lowers the zipper. The sound breaking through the quiet space stirs his lust. He wants to be naked with her, to feel her skin on his. She lowers his trousers to the floor, and he steps out of them, watching through his hooded eyes as she runs her hand over his growing cock. Camila gets up onto her knees to pull Marshall’s shirt over his head, revealing an even harder chest than she’d imagined yesterday. She moves her fingertips along the lines of his torso until they reach the waistband of his trunks. She gazes up at Marshall as she strokes his straining cock.

He darts down and sucks a hard nipple through her thin tank top, leaving a round wet mark. Marshall lifts his left hand and pulls down her top, freeing her other breast. He kneads and massages her bare flesh as he continues to suck the other breast. Camila can feel her desire seep out of her as he continues to tug and suck and lick her breasts. She spreads her legs open more and starts to touch herself.

“Allow me,” he says, pushing Camila back onto the bed. Marshall grabs the waist of her pants and pulls down, removing them in one fell swoop. His eyes radiate a desire that hadn’t been there before. The want he’s been feeling since yesterday has become pure, unadulterated need. Marshall frees his cock and kicks his trunks to the floor below. He lowers himself to Camila’s cunt and licks the outside of her soaking thong.

Camila hisses at the warm sensation of his tongue moving over her. She stretches her arms above her and grabs hold of the metal headboard. Seeing her stretched out before him stirs Marshall’s need and takes it deeper. He tears the thin fabric and tosses it to the floor. He returns to her dripping pussy, wet with her desire, and his saliva. The sight of her pink flesh awakens something inside of him. He doesn’t want to think about what it could mean so he takes it between his lips and sucks until she screams. The sound is beautiful and raw. He likes that there was no pretense, no seduction scene to force intimacy.
This is real intimacy
, he thinks to himself, probing her pussy with his tongue and his fingers.

Camila is too far into her pleasure to think. She loves the way his fingers dance along her skin while the others slide into her cunt. Her legs are wrapped around his upper back, and she can feel his muscles working beneath them. Her sex vibrates as he groans into its wet heat. The climb is so intense. Camila grips the headboard tighter.

“You want to come this way?” Marshall asks.

Camila looks down at him and nods, unable to speak. She can already feel her pussy start to pulse with her imminent release.

He smiles and says, “That’s what I thought.” As soon as the words are out, he’s relentless. Marshall brings up one hand to tug on her nipples while the other rubs her clit. His mouth continues to lick and probe, penetrating her deeper and deeper until Camila begins to spiral, his name echoing from her lips as her orgasm moves through her.

Marshall kisses his way up Camila slowly. He wants more than anything to be inside her, but he wants her to savor her orgasm first. There’s nowhere else he has to be, or needs to be. The way he’s feeling right now, the world could implode and he wouldn’t care.

Camila opens her eyes and sees Marshall trailing kisses up her arm. She moves her hand to his neck and draws his lips to hers, pressing her chest up to meet his. With her other hand, she begins to stroke his smooth, hard cock.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come,” he groans.

“Would that be a bad thing?” She asks into the kiss.

“Not usually, but I want to feel myself come inside you.” Marshall pulls Camila to her knees, his lips on hers even more intensely than before. He moves his erection along her soaking seam and growls. “I swear I almost came just listening to you.”

Camila’s cunt starts to throb, anxious for more. She bends down and takes him into her mouth, licking and sucking her way up and down his cock. He watches as she takes his balls into her mouth, trying to resist coming all over her. The sight of Camila on her knees, bent over, her ass exposed, is too much for Marshall. He lowers himself to the bed. Taking the hint, Camila crawls up over him and readies herself over his expectant cock.

Marshall watches the head of his cock disappear inside of her. The sensation is beyond words. He continues to watch Camila take him further and further each time, drawing out his wanting, his pleasure. The deeper he goes, the less able he is to watch. He can feel himself being pushed to the edge. He loves her sensuality, her confidence. As she takes him to the hilt, he shuts his eyes, allowing the fullness of the experience to wash over him.

Camila lets out a soft cry. He’s one of the biggest guys she’s ever had. His thick cock is stretching her beyond anything she’s felt or experienced with anyone. The feeling is intense and forces her to find that point where pleasure and pain become entwined. This is what being with Marshall is like. There’s the pleasure of the moment combined with the pain of knowing that this is it. She will have to take him for who he is, a fun end-of-the-summer fling. 

The idea that her time with him is transient loosens something inside Camila, making her let go of her reservations about being with him. The very thought that the situation is only temporary makes her want to act with abandon. She starts to ride him now, his large, thick cock hitting that spot just right as she lands over him. He grips her hips hard, guiding her as he meets her halfway. Camila plays with her breasts, massaging and squeezing them before pulling her nipples between her fingers. The sensation travels right down to her sex.

Marshall has no idea how long he can sustain this. Camila’s tight pussy is nirvana. He wants to make her come before he does, but he’s losing himself in the moment, watching her play with her tits, feeling her cunt spread over him. Marshall lifts her off of him so he can get behind her. He trails kisses up her spine while playing with her tender nipples. Camila sits back over him, his cock nestled between her sticky thighs.

“You’re not finished I hope,” she breathes into his neck.

He brings his lips down to hers and kisses her deeply. “God no. I’m so close.” He catches his breath. “I’m waiting for you. I want to feel you come over me.”

Camila leans forward slightly, and he starts to rub the head of his cock along her seam, paying careful attention to her swollen clit. “You’re fucking beautiful,” Marshall groans. He’s speaking to her cunt, but he’s directing it toward her entire being.

He lowers his face to her pussy and starts to lick her again. Camila moves her hips in rhythm to his strokes. Just when she thinks he’s going to make her come this way, he slides himself into her again, pushing all the air out of her. The suddenness of it makes Camila cry out.

Marshall begins to pick up his pace. He can’t take it slow anymore. He wants to make it last until the night, but he can feel his release begin to snake through him and bring him right to the very edge of his pleasure. He’s beginning to lose focus. Every sensation is coming at him from all directions. His mind, his body, his emotions, and his spirit are filling with the intense desire to find meaning and connection in this moment while his cock is getting ready to explode. He reaches around to rub her clit, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’m so close,” he murmurs into Camila’s ear.

She whispers something back, but he doesn’t hear clearly. If he could hear her, he would’ve heard, “Me too.” Camila too is filled with myriad sensations that have enveloped her entire being. It’s not anything she’s felt before, and she’s holding onto it for dear life, hoping it doesn’t leave her the moment she lets go and gives in to her release.

“Come for me,” he nearly pleads, feeling himself begin to let go.

Marshall thrusts himself in and out a few more times, pushing Camila to that place of pain and pleasure she’d found inside of herself. His release becomes hers as they both spiral down into that deep bliss neither knew existed before.