Lust Abroad

by Whitley Cox

  “Well that was a tad morbid and rather graphic, but yeah. We only live once; why not make it the best life possible?”

  I had a feeling there was more to it than our recent brush with death, but I didn’t want to press. Even though we knew each other in the most intimate way possible and had been spending every waking moment together, I still didn’t know very much about Derrick and didn’t quite feel comfortable enough to ask him more; I certainly wasn’t quite ready to reveal all of my secrets.

  But his face softened, and his eyes grew dark. “Ready for round two? I feel most alive when I’m inside you, hammering your body into a screaming, back-clawing mess. Until the only name you know is mine.” The man certainly had a way with words. I needed to find one of his articles and see if he was equally passionate and articulate about monkeys in the Cloud Forest of Monteverde as he was about making me come. He spread himself on top of me and pressed me into the mattress.

  “You’re insatiable!” I sighed, my body betraying me and rocking up into his grinding pelvis.

  His nostrils flared as he poised himself at my entrance. “I also want to hear you beg. Now tell me how badly you want my cock inside you.”

  8

  We’d bid farewell to our new friends and Canadian heroes the next morning, with tears in our eyes and promises of keeping in touch. If it hadn’t been for Elissa and Matt and their constant positivity and zest for adventure, had they not rescued us from that police station, I’m not sure what would have become of Derrick and me. We certainly wouldn’t have had nearly the amount of fun we did partying every night at the hostel. And they’d managed to keep our minds mostly off the bad things; they helped us keep our heads in the clouds and focus on the good parts of the trip, the benefits of backpacking, like making new friends and exploring new countries. So, after many tears and endless hugs, we said our goodbyes, thanking them again for their kindness and wishing them safe travels home.

  As the jet started to taxi down the runway, the flight attendants took their positions at the front and went through the motions.

  “It says here the Cusco airport can be dangerous to fly into due to intense cloud coverage and bad weather. And that planes only take off from the east, so if winds are bad, flights can be delayed or canceled altogether.” The Ultimate Traveler was back up, and Derrick was nose deep, his eyes flying across the pages.

  I reached up and took the book from him, closing it and stowing it in the front pocket of the seat in front of us. “Yeah…” I started, cuddling in closer to him. “That is not something I want to hear right now.”

  He gave me a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

  I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth and then tilted my head so I could whisper in his ear. “I’d much rather hear about what kind of filthy things you’d like to do to my body if given the chance. We’ve already established that we both like it rough, and I’m not against a little play and some toys. What kind of things are you into?” I needed to get my mind off the flight and apparently now the possibility of a treacherous landing, and sex and dirty talk were a great start.

  His eyes grew dark as he turned away from the man beside us, practically pinning me against the window with his hard body. “Oh, Piper…” His hand rested on the top of my thigh. “…All kinds of wicked things.”

  I licked my lips. “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Have you ever been flogged?”

  I swallowed and nodded. And I’d loved every goddamned minute of it.

  He made a satisfying rumble in his throat and nodded. “Hmm, well I’d love to flog your pretty little ass. Get it nice and pink for me. Then maybe I’d slip some beads in there, would you like that?”

  I looked right up into his eyes and nodded again.

  His throat bobbed. “You’re killing me right now. You know that? All this talk, you feigning innocence and purity over there, it’s enough to make my fucking balls explode.” His voice was barely a whisper, but his amused irritation still came across in his tone.

  I grinned at him. “Keep talking there, stud.”

  His eyes flashed fire. “Bossy little thing. You’ll pay for that.”

  Oh, I hoped so.

  “Then maybe I’d take you from behind, fuck you hard and fast, and then just as you’re about to come, pull out the beads so that you practically lose your mind.”

  I nodded and pressed my breasts against his arm. “I’d like that.”

  “I know you would.”

  I swallowed. “And then, what?”

  “And then I’d flip you onto your back, slide a vibrator into your hot, tight, wet little pussy, one that hits your G-spot, because now we know you know how to come when I’m bearing down on it. And then I’d suck that sweet little clit of yours until you were screaming my name and bucking into my face. I want you to forget your own name. I want the only name you can remember, the only name you know how to say, to be mine.” Holy mother of God, all the moisture just left my mouth. I wanted that too, so badly.

  I crossed my legs and squeezed, desperate for some friction. My pussy lips were wet and my cheeks warm. I was going to lose it here and now pretty quick if we didn’t switch gears. What had I been thinking? The man was a closet sex beast. The nerdy nice guy with his nose in a book and everybody’s best friend, the life of the party during the day, and then at night…watch out, the ravenous alpha sex beast with a taste for flesh came out, and there was no stopping his passion. But it would seem the beast was willing to get a head start today and didn’t feel like waiting for nightfall. Would he whisk me to the lavatory for a quickie? A part of me wanted to find out.

  His mouth was right next to my ear, and he chuckled, his breath warm and inviting against my skin. “Hot and bothered, are we?”

  I swallowed. “Maybe a little…”

  He laughed again and brazenly reached up and pinched my nipple. I practically came on the spot. “Well, that will teach you for wanting to talk dirty. You’d never win that game against me, sweetheart, not in a million years.”

  I was panting. How on earth was I panting? I hadn’t moved a muscle. I blinked up at him but let my hand slide over the bulge in his jeans, the bulge his jacket was doing a half-assed job of hiding.

  “Who says I was playing? This could just be the foreplay, and when we get to the hotel…”

  A growl rumbled through him as he shook his head, his eyes sparkling in awe. “You seriously are the perfect woman.”

  I pecked him on the cheek and huddled in close, resting my head on his shoulder and linking our hands again. “Well, I certainly try.”

  Less than an hour later, we touched down in the ancient and picturesque little city of Cusco, a sprawling old town of brick houses with orange clay-tiled rooftops, nestled in the heart of the Andes. With hills on either side and instant Old World charm, it made you feel as though you’d flown not only up into the mountains, but also back in time. But unlike Lima, which had been hot and muggy, when we stepped off the jet and walked out through arrivals, it felt more like being at home in the fall.

  A sudden dizzying fatigue swept through me, and I stumbled where I stood, seeing spots and hearing a faint buzzing sound in my ears. Was I having a stroke? But I hardly had any time to process the feeling before a sharp and bitter cold flew right through our layers and embedded itself in our bones, making my whole body convulse into shivers. What the hell had we gotten ourselves into now? I hadn’t been this cold since last winter. The winters on the West Coast of Canada are mild in comparison to the rest of the country, but they are wet and often feel endless. And with that wetness comes a bone-chilling cold that seems to make its way past all the layers of down and wool and long underwear and cling to your very marrow until the first day of spring.

  I threw my backpack on my back and followed Derrick out to where cab drivers were all parked and waiting for business.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back seat, swallowing. “Is this the altitude I’m feeling?” I asked, having to catch my throat
as I suddenly felt the bile in my stomach threaten to rise up. I closed my eyes and continued to swallow, my chest suddenly feeling incredibly tight.

  “Yeah…” Derrick licked his lips, his own pallor on the greenish side. “We need to take some of those pills when we get to the hostel.”

  I suppressed vomit and nodded. “Yeah.”

  It was roughly a thirty-minute drive from the airport to our hostel, and thankfully the cab driver drove right through town and spoke a tiny bit of English. So he pointed out a few tourist attractions like the Plaza de Armas in the center of the city, with its beautiful old fountain, in front of the Cathedral Basilica of the Assumption of the Virgin.

  I was impressed, but I’m afraid poor Pablo got the reactions from neither Derrick nor I that he’d been hoping for. We both just sat in the back seat with glazed-over eyes and pinched faces, trying our damnedest not to barf.

  “Hostel Travesura,” Pablo announced a short while later, pulling up next to a nondescript building amongst a series of other nondescript buildings. The only thing even remotely indicating that it was the right place was the small bronze plaque on the front wall that said “Hostel Travesura International Cusco Est. 2010.” Otherwise, for all we knew, it could have been a barbershop or a laundromat.

  We unloaded and paid the driver, and then, because we didn’t have any wristbands, besides the ones from Hostel Travesura in Lima, we were actually greeted at the door by a relatively big guy (Peruvians are not very big, especially those who descend from the Incas). He wasn’t quite as big as Derrick, but big for a Peruvian, in a leather jacket and toque. He checked our passports with the reservation list on a clipboard he had tucked under his arm, and once he verified we were who we claimed to be, he plastered on a giant smile and welcomed us inside. I grinned at him, despite how crappy I felt inside. The Pentagon-level security of the place made me feel safe, and I liked safe.

  It’d only been three nights, but we’d gotten used to sharing a room with four other people, snuggling up tight in the cramped bottom bunk while the top bunk remained empty. So, when we opened the door to our private room, and a queen-size bed stared back at us, I couldn’t stop the giddiness that bubbled up through me. A big bed, all to ourselves! Oh goody!

  We let our bags slide to the floor, then turned to face each other. He looked as haggard and ill as I felt.

  “Sleep?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Sleep.”

  And then we started to shed our clothes and pull back the covers. And just as I was about to unclasp my bra and set the girls free, there was a knock at the door. Derrick was far more decent than I was —he still had pants on —so I ducked into the bathroom, and he went to open the door.

  “Hola,” came a timid female voice. “Coca tea, for you and Miss Valentine, to help with the altitude sickness.”

  “Ah,” Derrick said, with a smile in his voice. “Gracias.” I heard the clatter of dishes and then, the door close.

  “Coca tea?” I asked, unhooking my bra and flinging it on top of my bag. “As in cocaine?”

  He nodded and started to pour out two mugs from the cute little teapot. “Yeah. It’s supposed to help with altitude sickness; I read that in the guidebook.” Of course, he had.

  “B-but it’s cocaine.”

  He rolled his eyes and handed me the mug, setting his mug down and going on the hunt for something in his bag. He came up a couple of seconds later with some pills. Ah, right, the altitude sickness pills, excellent. He handed me mine. “Bottoms up.” And then he popped his pills in his mouth and took a healthy sip of the tea.

  “But…”

  He swallowed the tea. “It’s not cocaine, Piper. And this is legal… kind of. We can’t bring it back to Canada, but brewing the coca leaves in tea is okay.”

  I gave him a skeptical eyebrow raise. Which prompted him to grab his phone. His fingers flew across the screen, and then he thrust it into my hands.

  “See, Wikipedia even says it.”

  I scanned the article he’d brought up. Ingesting coca leaves is a rather inefficient means of administering cocaine… coca tea is often recommended for backpackers and tourists when visiting the Andes in an attempt to prevent or help with altitude sickness.

  My eyes flitted up to his. He held his mug out in cheers and tipped the rest of the contents into his mouth. I looked down into my cup. “You’re sure I’m not going to go all crazy on a cocaine-infused bender?”

  He snorted and took his phone back. “I’m sure, you little worry-wart. Now drink it so we can have a nap. I don’t know about you, but I feel like complete and total shit.” He had me there; my whole body ached, while my gut churned and my head pounded. He was digging around in his backpack again and handed me two more pills. “Advil. If you’ve got even a fraction of the headache I have, you’re going to need it.” And then he poured himself some more tea to wash it all down.

  I stared at the four pills in my one palm, and the tea in the other, my head pounding like a dubstep beat in my skull. I was starting to feel that if I didn’t lay down quick, I was going to black out. Oh, what the hell? I tossed the pills into my mouth, chugged the tea, and wiped my wrist across my mouth.

  “That’s my girl.” He smiled, shucking his pants to the ground and drawing back the covers. He reached for me, and I slid in next to him. It already felt so natural for the two of us to huddle together and spoon. We’d had to do it in the bunk bed for the last three nights, so now that’s just how we slept. I melted into his big frame as he wrapped his arms around me, his breath warm on my neck. “Sleep, Piper. And then I’ll fuck you senseless.”

  I let out a contented sigh. “Okay.”

  9

  We woke a few hours later. Footsteps, laughter and multiple languages roused me from a very deep and dream-filled sleep. I’d been dreaming of Derrick, and his chin scruff and the way it felt on my inner thighs as his head bobbed up and down between my legs. He stirred next to me, and I rolled over to face him, momentarily winded from how absolutely drop-dead freaking gorgeous he was, and he was all mine…kind of. At least for the next few days.

  His lids fluttered open, and he smiled at me, his hand coming up and wrapping around the back of my head. “How do you feel?” he asked groggily.

  I swallowed. It had to be illegal to be that gorgeous. I’d have to look that up in one of my textbooks when I got home. How handsome was too handsome?

  One sexy eyebrow drifted up on his forehead. “You okay, beautiful?”

  Nodding, I blinked a few times. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. My head feels a lot better. How ’bout you?”

  He nodded and yawned. “A lot better, actually. My gut is still a little discontented, but that might just be hunger. But my head is clear, and I’m not feeling nearly as dizzy. It looks like the cocaine did the trick.” I went to swat him, but he laughed and rolled me over and flattened himself against my front, pinning me in place. “One quick one and then we’ll go explore this place and grab a bite, sound good?”

  My body softened beneath him and I spread my legs, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Sounds like a hell of a plan.”

  When we finally got ourselves showered and dressed it was nearly dinner time (so much for exploring downtown Cusco. Oh well, tomorrow), so we quickly went to the tour package desk, booked our trip to Machu Picchu and then wandered into the dining hall to rustle up some grub.

  Even though the two places were part of a franchise, and there were some definite similarities between the hostel in Lima and this one in Cusco, this one was ten times better. Even if there wasn’t a pool at this one, an outdoor courtyard with a volleyball net, bistro tables with umbrellas, grass to laze around on (if the weather was ever warm enough to do so), a gym, and coin-operated laundry machines took the cake and the crown.

  The dining hall was already bustling and busy. I had to catch myself from laughing when I realized that the real reason I liked this place so much more than the Lima location was because there wasn’t the constant heavy bass from a DJ booth r
aging through the building, dooming us all to early kidney failure. There was music playing, but it was from a regular stereo system, and it seemed just to be top forty, controlled by the bartender, who at the moment was also playing what looked to be tiddlywinks with a guy at the end of the bar.

  He noticed us wander in and gave us a friendly wave and hello. “Welcome, strangers, where are you from?” He had a slight accent, but from his few words I couldn’t quite place it. Mind you, I’ve never been terribly good at pinning down an accent.

  We sidled up to the bar. Derrick pulled out a seat for me and one for himself. “Canada.” My roommate grinned. “And yourself?”

  The bartender poured two shots and set them in front of us. “Scotland. Name’s Ian. Here, every new guest gets a free shot on the house.” He winked at me. “Dinna worry, love, it’s not got cocaine in it, we’re not trying to get ya hooked or anything.” My eyes must have gone wide because he started to laugh. “Just plain whiskey.” He was handsome, with a ruddy beard that matched his hair, soulful brown eyes and two full sleeves of what appeared to be black tribal tattoos over very muscular arms.

  Derrick offered up his thanks and downed the shot. He didn’t seem fazed in the least, so I took up my own glass, thanked Ian and down the hatch it went. I blanched and immediately started coughing, my throat burning from the foul liquid.

  Both men laughed, while Derrick pounded me on the back and Ian plunked a big glass of water in front of me.

  “You guys hungry?” Ian asked after I’d managed to compose myself and chug nearly the entire glass of water. Derrick and I nodded, accepting the menus he brought out from under the bar. I liked the dining hall. It was big and spacious, painted in an easy-on-the-eyes muted teal, with several picnic tables and high bistro tables, a foosball table in one corner and a pool table in the other. A karaoke machine and small dance floor took up the final corner next to some couches and overstuffed chairs. It was like a college common room/bar/coffee shop/restaurant, the best of everything all in one place. I just hoped the food was as good as the atmosphere, because then I might just move here and never leave.