“What? No, not Bob—B.O.B.—Battery Operated Boyfriend.” I laughed. “A girl has to have something to keep her relaxed on circuit.”
Cruz flipped me to my back, hovering above me with a look that told me Disney World was definitely closed. “Penelope, are you telling me that I’m the first man to give you an orgasm?”
“Yes. Doesn’t that make you feel all possessive and alpha-y?”
His gaze narrowed. “How have you never…?”
I shrugged. “Not sure. I’ve just never let anyone touch me before.”
His eyes flew wide, and he scrambled off me to stand at the end of the bed. “You’ve never let anyone… Holy shit, Penelope, you’re a virgin?”
“Ummm. Yes?” I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest, not out of embarrassment but because it was kind of chilly now that I’d lost my six-foot-something heater.
He started pacing, his hands on his head. My gaze dropped to the massive bulge in his pants that he was obviously trying to ignore.
“Why is this an issue?”
“Why?” he sputtered. “That night in Vegas, you were going to give your virginity to a stranger?”
I arched an eyebrow. “One, it’s mine to give, and two, no…I was going to give it to you.”
He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “How?”
“I thought it would be on the bed, probably you on top since it was my first time.”
“For fuck’s sake. Not how was I going to take you.” He shook his head. “How are you still a virgin? You’re twenty-two, gorgeous as sin, so smart that you give me whiplash, you kiss like heaven, and you’re a genuine badass.”
“Those are reasons men want me,” I said.
“Yes!” he mock-shouted, trying to keep his volume down.
“Not reasons I would want just any man.”
He blinked at me, understanding dawning on his face.
A shiver ran across my skin as the breeze from the open door washed over me. Cruz sighed, taking a spare blanket from his nightstand and wrapping it around me, then he sat on the bed—as far away from me as possible.
“I’m beautiful,” I said as honestly as I could. “I know it, and it’s not like I did anything to deserve it. Genetics are what they are, and I figured out early that boys liked my looks. And that was before the Sexiest Athlete of the Year nonsense. But I worked really hard to build my reputation as a Renegade, and maybe I used my looks, but I never used my body.”
“I never meant to insinuate—”
“I know. What I’m trying to tell you is that there’s never been a guy—a man—worth risking that reputation for, worth being a piece of ass for.”
“You’re not a piece of ass.”
I scooted over to rest my head on his shoulder. “That’s why I waited for the right someone—waited for you. And once I felt what it could be like between us, I wasn’t willing to let that go. If that one time in Vegas was the only time I got to feel like that, then I was grabbing on with both hands.”
I felt his jaw flex as he rested the side of his head on mine. “You should have told me. I would have gone slower, wouldn’t have just—”
“Nope, that was perfect. And I’ve never been good at slow. Once I decide what I want, I stick with it until I land that trick, or I crash and burn. In fact, if you hadn’t stopped, by now this would be a moot point.”
He turned and cupped my face. “I’m glad I found out.”
“Me, too. And I still want it to be you.” I peeked over his shoulder at the clock. “In fact we still have ten minutes…”
He scoffed and shook his head. Then he kissed me lightly, sweetly, keeping himself firmly in check, and as serene as it was, I almost loathed the kiss because I felt him lock his resolve.
“There’s zero chance in hell I’m taking your virginity in a ten-minute quickie and then going on a trip where I have to basically ignore you for three straight days. Not going to happen.”
Every second he stared at me knocked my ire down a notch or two…or five. “Your eyes are your best weapon. You know that, right?”
He flashed those dimples, and I groaned.
“Or maybe it’s the dimples.”
“You’d better get dressed so we can meet downstairs like I didn’t just spend the last twenty minutes introducing you to non-battery-operated orgasms.”
“But it is going to happen, right?” I almost whined, then popped my hand over my mouth. When the hell had I become this needy over something—especially sex?
Cruz laughed softly and kissed my lips again. “Yes. So much yes. All the yes. I’m going to ruin you for any man stupid enough to try to come after me.” He took on a fierce expression for a moment before softening. “But not like this. When you’re ready—”
“I’m ready!” I nodded.
“I’m not an airplane you can go jump out of because you want to, Penelope. There are two of us in this bed. Two of us in this relationship.”
Relationship. I almost purred at the word, and then simmered the hell down. He was right. Maybe my virginity didn’t really matter to me, but it apparently mattered to him, and therefore had to matter back to me. Were all relationships this complicated?
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Good. It’ll be worth it. The first time I take you, make love to you, it won’t be where we’re scared people will hear us through the walls.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too. Now get dressed before I lose all respect for myself now that I’ve become the lead in every bad porn. You’re incredibly sexy wrapped up in nothing but a blanket.”
I burst out laughing but hopped down and started gathering up my clothes. Then I snuck into the bathroom, knowing I could tease him with my nakedness but already feeling bad that I’d left him hard and unsatisfied. “Why a bad porn?” I asked through the door, pulling my shirt on over my bra.
“Oh, come on. I’m the older, wiser, hot professor. You’re the young, wide-eyed, virginal ingénue who needs a little help after class.”
I laughed as I got my pants on, then tossed open the door to lounge against it suggestively, raising my knee along the doorframe. “Well, I didn’t mean to fail that exam. I was just so distracted by— Hey, you put your shirt back on.”
“So did you.” He pulled me close, and even though he’d just given me the best orgasm of my life, I felt that fire flare up again.
“So, you and me?” I asked softly.
“You and me,” he agreed, taking my lips in a deep, soul-reaching kiss. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“Nothing worth it ever is.”
Chapter Twenty
Cruz
Peru
Ignoring Penelope as we hiked the Inca Trail was harder than it sounded. I heard her laugh, and I was immediately jealous of whomever made her do it. I saw one of her Renegades boost her up when part of the trail got steep, and I wanted to break his damn hands. I saw her smile at me when no one was looking, and it was all I could do not to kiss her stupid—consequences be damned.
Agreeing to a secret relationship hadn’t contained the blast zone—it had turned me into a territorial, growling jackass.
Checking all forty-six students into the hotel in Aguas Calientes took longer than I wanted, but everyone was settled, dinner was done, the sun was set, and I finally sat at the bar with a Peruvian beer in hand. Camping would have been a better experience for the students, but the last thing I wanted to deal with was the Renegades doing stupid shit like jumping over the fire. It just wasn’t practical for this size trip, so hotel it was. It was modern, clean, and had a great open-air bar with slow-spinning ceiling fans, and we were at the base of Machu Picchu, which meant tomorrow’s hike would be easy compared to today’s grueling expedition.
I glanced in Penelope’s direction, where she sat in a curved booth, surrounded by her friends. Her hair was up and her skin had a sun-kissed glow from hiking all day. She looked beautiful, and damn if that smile didn’t make me want to steal her aw
ay.
As if she felt me, our eyes locked for a precious, heated second before I studied the label on my beer. I needed to be better. Safer. Hell, I couldn’t figure out how the whole group didn’t already know about us, because I was pretty sure my feelings for her were etched on my face every time I looked at her.
“Man, I need one of those,” Lindsay said, taking the seat next to me and blocking my view of Penelope. “You sure you want to hike up that mountain tomorrow when there’s a perfectly good shuttle?” She looked at me with a desperate plea in her eyes.
“Pilsen Callao,” I ordered from the bartender, then turned to Lindsay, trying not to laugh. She was exhausted and looked it—definitely not the time to poke fun. “What fun is that? Everyone wants to look back at their life and say, ‘I hiked to Machu Picchu.’ I have yet to meet someone who wants to say, ‘I rode the bus.’”
“I’d ride the damn bus,” she muttered, but perked up when her beer arrived. “Thank you,” she said to the bartender, then me.
“No problem. You know, if you want, you can offer that to the students. Anyone who wants to avoid the hour-and-a-half hike in the morning can take the bus with you.” It chafed me to say it, but I needed to make sure all students were capable of making it to the top, and we’d had more than a few stragglers today.
The look of relief on her face sent a pang of guilt through me. Not everyone on this trip was as in shape as the Renegades, and I needed to keep that in mind.
“You want to give them another few minutes and then do bed check?” Lindsay asked.
“Bed check? Are they in high school?” I openly laughed.
“No, but according to the State Department, Peru has one of the highest crime rates in Latin America, including kidnapping.” Her wide eyes told me she wasn’t backing down.
“Okay, I’ll take the boys, you take the girls?” I offered.
She glanced nervously at Penelope’s table. “Will you take those? I know you’re their faculty advisor, and something tells me they don’t listen well when they’re not in class.”
I looked over to where the friends were lost in conversation, no doubt hashing out the final details for the stunt the day after tomorrow.
“They’re not that bad. You simply have to speak on their wavelength,” I told Lindsay. When had I become protective of the Renegades?
When you claimed one of them as yours.
“Well, wavelength or not, I’ll call for curfew, and then we can make the rounds?”
“Sounds like a plan.” I finished my beer as Lindsay sent the students to their rooms.
I officially felt old.
“Can I ask you a question?” Lindsay asked, taking the chair next to mine again in the almost-empty bar.
“Absolutely.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
I nearly spat out my beer. Chill the fuck out, she doesn’t know. After managing to swallow, I gave her my full attention. “Why?”
“Because you put out the just-friends vibe, and I’d rather know that you’re taken—or gay—as opposed to racking my brain to think up ten different things that are wrong with me.” She finished with a shrug, like my answer didn’t matter.
“There is nothing wrong with you, and yes, I’m seeing someone,” I said, my chest swelling with an unfamiliar emotion at being able to admit my relationship in this small way.
“Oh.” Her entire posture lightened. “Well, then that makes sense. She must be something special.”
Penelope’s face took over my mind. Her smile, her frown, her ocean-blue eyes when she was pissed. Her reckless need to push every limit, and the fragile vulnerability she kept so tightly guarded.
“I can honestly say that there is no one in the world who compares to her.” My words were soft but echoed into the deepest corners of my heart.
“Lucky girl.”
“Lucky me.”
We split up and headed for different floors of the hotel. After grabbing my roster, I found most of the Renegades in the hallway in various states of pajamas.
“Look, I don’t care who sleeps with whom—” Whistles interrupted me, and I grinned, shaking my head at my careless use of that phrase around a bunch of college kids. “What I meant was that I don’t care who is in what room, but Miss Gibson is worried about crime and kidnapping and dastardly deeds, though I can’t see anyone putting up with you bunch long enough to demand a ransom. So pick a room and stay there. I’m starting at this end for bed checks.”
The hallway cleared, and I went room by room, checking names off my list. The fifth door I checked was opened by Penelope. She wore drawstring pajama bottoms, a tank top, and bare feet, and yet she’d never looked sexier to me as she smiled softly. It was a look I wanted to see often, and preferably in my condo in L.A., if we made it off the ship intact.
You will.
By fall, maybe I’d see her in my apartment in Boston.
“Just Rachel and me,” she said, opening the door so I could see inside.
Rachel waved from her bed, then, slipping headphones on, went back to whatever she was doing with her camera.
“I figured she’d be bunked up with Rhodes,” I said to Penelope.
“She’s on Penna duty,” she answered. “They’re not going to leave me alone until I somehow prove I’m back to normal.”
“And how are you supposed to do that?”
“Probably by getting on that damn motorcycle,” she answered. “We have the live expo coming up, and I still haven’t so much as sat on my bike.”
I leaned against her doorframe. “Are you ready?”
“I don’t know, but I feel like I’ll get there eventually, which is better than I felt a month ago.”
“That’s progress.”
She looked over at Rachel, who head-bobbed with whatever music she was listening to, then whispered, “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
“I wish you could kiss me good night.” That spark I loved so much lit in her eyes, and I almost cursed our arrangement.
But denying myself now so I could have her later was worth everything.
“Me, too. Though I’m not sure I’d stop at kissing you,” I whispered quietly.
She stepped back into her room, door handle in hand. “Good night, Dr. Delgado.”
“Miss Carstairs.” I inclined my head toward her, retreating as she shut the door. This secret bullshit really, truly, purely sucked.
…
“Okay, everyone gather around. Let’s get some actual learning done here,” I told the students as we settled into an open area in Machu Picchu, head count complete.
The hike had been slightly treacherous, steep and unforgiving. Some of the paths had turned to mud due to last night’s rain, but I hadn’t heard a single complaint from the thirty-one students who came with me. We’d met the bus at the entrance to the site and come the rest of the way as a group.
The site itself was a damned marvel, and I couldn’t wait to get through this portion of the expedition so I could explore.
“First off, make sure you’re staying hydrated, and if you’re feeling short of breath, don’t panic. We’re up here at eight thousand feet, so it’s mostly the altitude.”
Lindsay smiled at me, and I knew it was because she was one of the people struggling to catch her breath even though she’d arrived with the bus. I scanned the rest of the students and found Penelope with an arched eyebrow in Lindsay’s direction.
Real subtle, baby. I barely contained my smile, but managed.
“Okay, welcome to today’s session of Latin American history, on location, if you will. Who can tell me why Machu Picchu is so special?”
“The Inca ruled for only a hundred years, and to accomplish something like this in such a short time is amazing,” Leah answered.
“Good. Yes. Archeologists believe that it had to have been ordered by the first Incan emperor since it took about fifty years or so to build. What else?”
&nb
sp; “It was completely abandoned, which is probably what saved it from Spanish destruction, seeing as they demolished almost every other holy Incan site during their conquest,” Luke Ruiz threw out. “They never found it.”
“Correct, again. Why it was abandoned continues to be a mystery. While smallpox and civil war had both already done their part to weaken the empire, there’s no sign of war here. In fact, it looks like it was stopped mid-construction. What else?” I looked around the group.
“Logically, it shouldn’t be here.”
Her voice slid over me like warm caramel.
“Go ahead, Miss Carstairs,” I prompted, daring myself to look at her as she answered. I locked down every muscle in my face, determined not to show any reaction that might give me away.
“Its location is sacred, the river beneath us, the four tallest peaks at every direction. Spiritually, militarily, culturally—it’s exactly perfect for the Incans in every regard.”
God, it sounded like she was talking about us, or maybe I had us on the brain so much I could twist anything she said. “You’re absolutely right. But the same could be said for a hundred other sites of ruins from civilizations all over the globe.”
“But this one geographically shouldn’t have lasted a century, let alone six,” she said.
Bingo. Her brain was as much of a turn-on as her body was—hell, even more so.
“We’re surrounded on both sides by two earthquake-prone fault lines on this ridge.” She pointed to both ends of the site. “But more than that, Machu Picchu gets two and a half times the amount of rain as Chicago during the rainy season, and is known for mudslides in the surrounding area. Seeing as it was built almost six hundred years ago, the site should have washed away long ago.”
“Mudslides, yay,” Rachel said with jazz hands.
Landon laughed and put his arm around her shoulder.
Penelope rolled her eyes.
“So if this site is perfect for what the Inca needed, and yet pretty geographically flawed, why is it still standing?” I asked Penelope.
She tilted her head, then straightened and looked around at the ruins, the sky, ground, anywhere but me. “Because they built a strong foundation.”
Rebel (The Renegades) Page 20