Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  IT WAS POURING rain when we arrived in the tiny town of Ollantaytambo, only to stand there, for over an hour, in the dark and the cold, waiting for our bus. It had apparently gotten stuck in the mud on some mountaintop dirt road and was being rescued by another bus. I was shivering uncontrollably and soaked from head to toe, with nary a cover or a building to crawl and hide under. It was nighttime, and the town, if you could even call it that, was closed up and quiet.

  “It says here...” Derrick started, his nose once again buried in his ratty copy of The Ultimate Traveler, as we stood there huddled up under my tiny one-person travel umbrella. He started prattling on about more facts, but I was too cold, too soaked to my skin to listen.

  I rolled my eyes but was unable to hide my smile. Despite how bloody cold it was, the man was so mercurial. One minute he was this sultry Dom, using his fingers to get me off in the middle of a crowded train and threatening to spank me if I made a sound, and then the next minute he’s all sexy nerd. He was seriously the whole damn package, smart, funny, kind and an absolute beast in the sack.

  He caught me chuckling at him, and his head popped up, his eyes turning dark, or at least I think they did. It was hard to tell; the only light we had outside came from the one lonely streetlamp, and even that was flickering.

  “Are you laughing at me, Miss Valentine?”

  I shook my head, though my whole body was shaking, both from the cold and from suppressed laughter. “No, not me, not me at all.”

  He stuffed his book in his backpack and then grabbed me by the arm, whisking me through the crowd, our hiking boots sloshing in the mud. We made our way around a small building, and although I wasn’t entirely confident of what it was, based on the way it peaked at the back I would guess it was a small church. It was almost pitch black now, we couldn’t see the lonely streetlamp flickering, and because of the rain, there was no moon and no stars. My face was drenched, as were my clothes, but that didn’t seem to stop Derrick from ripping off my bag and throwing me up against the wall, his mouth, wet and hot coming down hard against mine.

  “I want you, here and now,” he said with a deep growl as he began making quick work of the drawstring on my pants. I heard the zip and fumble of fabric as he struggled to free himself, but wet clothes and wet hands combined with the cold made for a challenge. And what was supposed to be quick and dirty, and fucking in seconds, awkwardly turned into the two of us shivering and struggling to pull our very wet pants down our legs.

  Eventually, we managed. Determination trumped frustration, and within a minute or two we were both standing there with only one pant leg on, the other leg bare and quickly becoming numb. Derrick’s eyes found mine again, his face nothing more than shadows, but I didn’t have to see his face to feel his savage need, to feel his craving for me, because I felt it too.

  I leaped up onto his hips, and he ploughed me into the wall, sheathing himself to the hilt. My back slammed against the rough damp wood, scratching my butt with each hard thrust, while my hair clung to my neck and face.

  “Oh God!” His teeth found my chin and his hands cupped my ass, his fingers kneading my frozen flesh.

  “Yes…” I panted. “Oh God, yes, please.”

  “Can’t…get enough. I can’t get enough of you. Never…never enough.”

  I squeezed my muscles around him, drawing him in, wanting more of him, all of him. My hands clawed up his back, searching for skin. I lifted up the back of his shirt and sweater, letting my hands delve beneath the fabric, finally finding flesh, the toned muscles contracting as he bucked into me with all his might. The man was insatiable —and I loved it!

  We heard the crunch of gravel off in the distance and the noise and voices of what could only be people getting ready to board a recently arrived bus. We were far enough away that no one would be able to hear us, and we couldn’t make out any specifics, but the new light off in the distance, what I could only assume were headlights, had us picking up vigor, eager to finish but knowing we also needed to run.

  A wave of panic rushed over me. “We…we have to go.” But everything felt so good, too good to stop. His pelvic bone rubbed against my clit just right, while his cock hit me deep, deep inside. I bit my lip to contain my screams.

  “Just…a second.” His breath was ragged and his voice strained as he wedged one hand between us, his fingers, like they had on the train, rubbing roughly across my clit, only this time they were ice cold, and the sudden temperature change made me gasp. “I’m going to come, babe.” His thrusts began to wane while his fingers picked up speed. “Can you come?”

  I nodded. “I-I think so.”

  “Okay…”

  Three more pumps, my head hitting the wood behind me, he brought my clit between his finger and thumb and pinched, and I went off like a rocket. Sharp teeth came down on my neck as he found his own release, his body stilling as he poured himself into me, groaning low and masculine and so freaking sexy. He licked his bite mark, not that he drew blood, and then pulled away, righting himself and tucking himself

  back into his pants. I quickly ducked off into the shadows to pee, having to squat and shake, just like I’d been forced to do up on Machu Picchu, shaking my head with a smile at this man and his unconventional location choices for making whoopee.

  I pulled my pants back up and found my backpack, joining him next to the building. He reached for my hand, and without a word, we took off running toward the bus.

  Only it wasn’t a bus at all, it was a minivan, one suitable for a small summer camp, and it was just beginning to pull away as we ran up. Derrick started waving his arms emphatically and then practically hurled himself in front of the vehicle, only I pulled him back by the strap of his bag and started rapping on the window with my frozen knuckles.

  The van stopped, and the man in the passenger seat opened the door.

  “Sorry, dude,” Derrick said, flashing him a bright but drenched grin. “We went off to find shelter.”

  The man opened the sliding door of the van, and the whole cab lit up. Roughly twelve wet, cold and exhausted faces stared back at us. Was there room for two more? Apparently, there was, because everybody shuffled and squeezed, and eventually I found myself wedged in tight next to Derrick and a girl with dreadlocks. We all had our bags on our laps, the smell from the train nothing compared to the smell in the van. It was as though the train had been the eau de toilette of backpackers and the van was the essential oil, highly concentrated and potent. Wet coats, dirty bodies, and B.O. mixed and mingled to create a scent all its own. I dug one of my scarves out of my bag and wrapped it around my neck, sinking my neck down until my mouth and nose were covered, creating kind of a filter.

  A hand found mine amongst the layers of saturated fabric and bags, cold fingers linking with mine. I squeezed back and then let my head fall to his shoulder. We were due to fly back to Lima tomorrow afternoon. This was our last night together. His flight to Santiago was the following night, and when we got back to Cusco, I was going to book a flight home. I was done with Peru. Though I couldn’t say, I was eager to get back to reality and the boring, unfulfilling jobless life that awaited me.

  I was thankful all of a sudden for the dark and quiet van, everyone inside feeling the same way —bone tired. And although I was tired of a lot of things, tired from the day, tired of running, tired of looking over my shoulder and wondering why the hell I was a target, I wasn’t tired of Derrick. And the lone tear that made its way down my cheek as we bumped along the dark and muddy road was evidence that I wasn’t just not tired of him. I was falling for him as well. I was falling hard.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Hostel Travesura!” the van driver announced a couple of hours later. I’d been in and out of sleep, dozing and dreaming, rousing just barely each time we stopped to drop off other weary backpackers. I hadn’t even been paying attention to where we were, or that we’d made it back to Cusco, so when I heard the name of our hostel, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Dude,
this isn’t our hostel,” Derrick said, leaning forward and resting his hand on the driver’s arm. “We’re at the top of the hill.”

  The driver just shook his head and pointed to the door. Derrick looked at the other transportation coordinator sitting in the front seat. “We’re not getting out here. You can take us to our hostel, just like you’ve taken everyone else to their hostel.”

  “No, no, you walk. Only twenty minutes. We are running out of gas and do not have enough to go all the way back up to the top.”

  Derrick’s eyes turned saucer size. “Then why the hell didn’t you drop us off sooner, when we were already at the top? We’ll wait for you to get gas, we’re not walking in the rain and dark.” He was trying to remain as calm and as pleasant as possible, but there was a minor edge and mild, almost indiscernible threat to his tone.

  Both men in the front shook their heads. “No,” the driver said. “You get out now.”

  “Come on, mate,” an Aussie from the back yawned. “Just get out. We’re all tired. We all just want to shower and get to bed. Just do as he says.”

  I spun around and gave a venomous stare to the man who decided to provide us with his two cents. I recognized him from Machu Picchu and Aguas Calientes. He was a Class-A douche, patronizing the locals and acting like a horse’s ass any chance he got.

  He bobbed his eyebrows at me in challenge. “Turn that pretty head back around, sweetheart, and lose the scowl. I’m only saying what the rest of us are thinking.”

  “No, you’re being a selfish prick,” I snapped back. “We paid the same amount as you for this tour package, and we’re not going to be bullied into getting out before the agreement has been reached. We’re to be dropped off at our hostel.”

  I didn’t want to say anything, but after the week we’d had, being accosted in stores and in the street, I would fight kicking and screaming to stay in the van and not have to walk up the hill in the freezing rain in the middle of the night to the hostel. The men after us had already proven that they’d be willing to either follow me or hire out in Cusco to get what they wanted. Who’s to say they weren’t waiting for us or following us now? Who’s to say they weren’t in cahoots with our driver? I’d become suspicious of everyone, and until proven otherwise I considered every person we met guilty of trying to rob me.

  A hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped at first, but when I realized it was Derrick, I settled down. “It’s okay, Piper. I’ve got this.” And then he leaned over and tucked his head between the two men in the front seat, the three of them whispering back and forth.

  I strained to listen, but then realized that I wouldn’t understand what they were saying anyway, so instead I just spun back around and glared at the Aussie douche-nugget. He returned my vitriolic stare, while the rest of the passengers seemed either bored with the confrontation or scared straight.

  The van’s engine roared to life, and the driver pulled out into the street. Derrick leaned back and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and kissing my temple. It was such a simple gesture, but it’d become our thing, and I loved it.

  “What’d you say to them?” I whispered, slouching against him while putting my bag on the empty seat beside me. The van was only about half-full now, and we no longer had to hug our belongings to our chest.

  He turned his mouth to my ear. “I bribed them. Plus, I pulled a page out of your playbook and told them you were pregnant.” I gaped at him, but he was all smiles, shrugging and pulling my head back down to his shoulder. “They were very apologetic, but I looked at the gas tank, and it’s pretty much on “Empty,” so it might be a little while before we get back to the hostel, as they have to stop and get gas.”

  I snuggled in tight to him and sighed. “I don’t care. We’re dry in here; we’d be wet out there. As long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter where we are.” And then, my eyes went wide, and I stilled; had I just said that out loud? I’d been thinking that, dear God, it’d been all I’d been thinking about for the last several hours as we quietly sat side-by-side, groggy and huddled up under his big alpaca blanket. Even though the van reeked and I was tired and cold, none of it mattered because I was with Derrick, and when I was with him, I was happy.

  I was petrified stiff and so embarrassed of my proclamation that I didn’t dare sneak a peek at him. I just focused straight ahead on the clock on the front dash, it said seven-thirty. Was it only seven-thirty? It felt so much later; it felt closer to midnight. An embarrassed heat wormed its way up my chest and into my face. He still hadn’t said anything. Was he going to ignore it? Was that better or worse? I couldn’t decide.

  “Me, too,” he finally said, kissing the top of my head. “I’m happy wherever you are, too.”

  It was nearly another hour before we arrived at Hostel Travesura, having dropped off every other van occupant, including the whiny Aussie in the back, gone into town to get gas, and then ventured back up to the top of the hill to our hostel.

  We thanked the drivers, even though we didn’t have to, not after the way they’d treated us. We gave them an extra twenty dollars or whatever the equivalent was in sols, grabbed our bags and left. But not before they both offered me their heartfelt congratulations on our “bebé.” I thanked them again, and just for good measure, gave my belly an affectionate rub before we lifted our wrists to the security camera and were welcomed back inside the fortress.

  We checked back in and were given the key to our new room. A different one than before, but thankfully it was also farther away from the main hall where all the parties were, and by the sounds of it, a rip-roaring one was taking place that night.

  I bent down to grab my big backpack from the storage room when a bunch of stuff started to spill out as I lifted it onto my shoulder. I put it down, and that’s when I noticed a giant slash through the side, as if someone had taken a knife or a machete to it. I looked around, and a couple of other backpacks, all the same color and style as mine, perhaps slightly varying in size or brand, had their sides also slashed open. What the hell?

  I marched out into the lobby, where Derrick started talking with the man at the front desk. The two had somehow developed a friendly relationship, chatting and laughing whenever we’d come and go.

  “Um… what happened here?” I asked, not wanting to experience a repeat of The Inca Treasure where they called the cops on me because I’d lost my cool.

  The man’s face went beet red. “Uh…”

  Derrick followed me into the storage room, and the terrified Peruvian man followed him. “What happened?”

  “My bag and a bunch of other blue ones like it have all been slashed open. Look, there is stuff everywhere.” I turned back to the front desk guy, finally catching a glimpse of his name tag, it said Joe. “What happened here, Joe?”

  He swallowed and licked his lips. “Last night, two men came here. They said they were here to fix a broken toilet, as one of the toilets in the dorm stopped working. But they were not maintenance men, and one held Luisa at gunpoint while the other went through the bags. We have an emergency button, and Luisa pressed it, and the police were called. But the men ran away when they heard the sirens.” His eyes darted back and forth between Derrick and I. “I am very sorry. But I do not think they took something…I mean, anything. They were looking for something very…particular I think. Do you know?”

  Derrick’s eyes found mine, and we spoke without speaking. He turned back to Joe and rested a hand on his shoulder. “It’s no biggie, dude. As long as no one was hurt. Is Luisa okay?”

  Joe nodded, the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he realized we weren’t upset. “She is okay, very…shaken up, but not hurt.”

  Derrick asked Joe if they had any duct tape or something to secure my bag, because otherwise it was going to be useless, and I’d have to board the plane tomorrow with garbage bags. Joe nodded, and the two took off back to the front desk while I busied myself collecting all my things that were strewn about, muttering and cursing in frustratio
n under my breath.

  “What are they looking for?” I shrieked and threw things like a maniacal banshee once we were safely away in our own room. My fingers trembled as I ripped everything out of my backpack for the umpteenth time. “I’ve shredded this bag and can’t find anything out of the ordinary. And now they’ve literally shredded my bag and didn’t find anything. What the fuck?”

  Derrick just stared at me and shook his head. “Do you want to cut it up? I can go and ask for a knife or scissors. We can get you a new backpack tomorrow. Our flight doesn’t leave until the late afternoon.”

  Now it was my turn to shake my head. “No. How could someone have cut and then sewn up a hole in my bag in the three minutes I was gone to the bathroom? If that was even when it happened. Stupid Eduardo.” I clenched my jaw until it ached. “And if Robert wasn’t able to find anything, with his super spy ninja training, then there’s not anything in here.”

  He grabbed his backpack, which was actually a similar make as mine, but red, and started checking it for hidden compartments or flaps. The floor of our room was no longer visible. It was just clothes and towels, books and random backpacker paraphernalia. And then he jammed his hand down, and his eyes flew up to me.

  “What?” I was doing the smell test on a sweater I’d forgotten I’d packed and wrinkled my nose… I needed to do laundry.

  “Does your backpack have this gap at the back between the hard panel and the canvas? There’s some barely visible, pretty much perfectly hidden Velcro keeping them intact, but you can definitely shove stuff down there. It’d be easy to miss, even for a super spy ninja.” His mouth twisted up into an amused grin, but then he quickly sobered when I gave him a scowl. This was not the time to be funny or cute.

  I picked my poor mangled backpack up off the floor and opened it up at the top, pulling at the hard back panel, and suddenly the space was as clear as day. How had we not noticed it before? I rammed my hand down between the panel and the canvas, fishing around. If something was hidden, this had to be where it was; there was nowhere else. My fingers grazed something. A bag. A canvas bag. I heaved it up and out into the light. Holy crap! I flung the package onto the bed, fear tasting bitter on my tongue. I had not packed this, whatever it was. Someone had stashed it in my bag, and now someone else was trying to retrieve it.