Wilder (The Renegades)

by Rebecca Yarros

  She nodded.

  I brought my hands up her rib cage, reveling in how silky soft her skin was, until I rested beneath her breasts. “And there’s no chance of you ever disappointing me. You’re perfect just sitting here, so I can’t imagine how amazing you would be if I ever got my mouth on you.”

  Her lips parted and her eyes darkened. She liked it when I talked to her. Noted. I was going to learn every single secret there was to turning her on, and then I was going to systematically use them until she didn’t know fear or doubt, just felt as sexy as she was.

  “We’re only going as far as you say, Leah. You’re in control.” For now, I promised myself. Once she said yes, I would make her forget her own name.

  She leaned down slowly and kissed me, pressing me back onto the bed. I lost myself in her taste, the feel of her perfect mouth, the way she fit against me like she was meant to be there.

  I kissed her until she started to grind, and then my fingers dug into her hips as the pleasure ripped through me. You will not come in your pants like you’re in high school. Didn’t you promise that you could control yourself?

  I focused on her, finally letting myself run my hands up her sides until I cupped her flawless breasts in my hands. She moaned and leaned forward, pushing them farther into my hands.

  “Perfection,” I murmured against her neck, lightly sucking a sensitive patch of skin as I thumbed her hard nipples. Now that I knew what was under her shirt, was I going to be able to keep my eyes above her shoulders?

  Yeah, because her eyes are even better.

  I pushed her forward gently and then lowered my head to take one peak into my mouth.

  “Paxton!” she gasped, her fingers tightening in my hair in a nearly painful grip. Fuck, it felt amazing.

  She rocked forward on my dick, and I angled her hips so she’d rub against her clit if she did it again. Then I tried to picture the most unsexy thing I could think of to keep from rolling her over, and went back to work on her other breast.

  She rocked. She moaned. I nearly died, harder than the fucking steel this ship was made of. I couldn’t remember a single time I’d been so turned on before my pants had even come off.

  “Hey guys, have you seen Landon’s backpack?” Penna’s voice came from the other side of the door right before she opened it. “He left his wallet in it.”

  “Shit,” I hissed, and rolled us off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor.

  “Oh… Oh!” Penna said from the doorway.

  I sat up, careful to keep Leah blocked from her sight. “You were saying?”

  “I should have knocked.”

  “That would have been nice,” I nearly growled at her, agony shooting through my ribs.

  “Hey, Penna,” Leah said, waving her hand above the bed but showing no other skin.

  “Good to see you there, Leah!” Penna’s eyes darted from wall to wall. “You know, I think I’ll just wait downstairs.”

  “Backpack is under his bed,” I suggested as she shut the door.

  I turned to Leah, ready for the embarrassment, but she was doubled over in laughter. “Seriously? The first time I get to second base in years, and that happens? It’s like living at home with my parents again.”

  I grinned. “There are no words for you, my little Firecracker.”

  She shook her head and crawled on hands and knees to find her clothes. That ass. There are no words for that.

  “Get dressed,” she said, tossing the shirt at me, her hair looking like she’d been thoroughly fucked. You wish.

  I wanted to stomp my foot like an angry toddler who’d been denied a candy bar, because what I’d missed out on was so much sweeter.

  “Relax,” she said, leaning over the bed to kiss me quickly. “If you’re a good boy, that might happen again.”

  I was ready to sit up and beg like a puppy.

  “Shirt, Pax.”

  I grumbled but put the damn thing on before we wandered down the stairs to see Penna on her hands and knees under Landon’s bed.

  I spotted my chest protector on his dresser and picked it up, frowning at the break line.

  “He kept it?” Leah asked.

  “We always do,” I answered, running my finger along the line. “We have a room at home full of gear we’ve busted in pursuit of whatever trick we were trying to pull.”

  “Oh,” she answered. “Penna, do you need some help?”

  “Sure,” Penna answered under the blankets. “How much shit does he have down here?”

  Leah took the other side, sticking that deliciously round ass in the air. Apparently my dick hadn’t forgotten where she’d been a few minutes ago. I blinked and looked back at the breast plate.

  The break was too straight. Too clean. Strange.

  “He’s got a ton of shit under here,” Leah agreed, throwing some of the stuff onto the bed.

  “Got it!” Penna lifted her hands in victory. She slung the pack over her shoulder. “Okay, I’ll be back later. You two…you know…um…study or something.”

  “Nice, Penna.” I rolled my eyes at her.

  She blew me a sarcastic kiss and ran out the door.

  “Everything okay?” Leah asked as she walked over to me.

  “The chest plate. They never crack in a straight line. It’s always along the ridges, or the point of impact. Never straight. It’s strange.”

  “Huh,” she said. “Maybe it’s the handlebars or something?”

  “Maybe,” I answered.

  “Let me get this stuff put away,” she said, motioning to the bed.

  The girls were right. Landon was a freaking pack rat. Harnesses, protective gear, a helmet— “No fucking way,” I whispered.

  “Okay, I won’t put it away,” Leah grumbled.

  “No, that’s not it.” I dropped the chest plate and sat on the only clear spot on his bed, reaching for the two black rigs I’d been missing since we zip-lined onto the ship. “These are mine. They’re the ones we used that first day.”

  “Oh,” she said, not understanding. How could she? Even I couldn’t put everything together.

  I took the rigs back to my room and, while she sat on my bed sipping the latte that had gone nearly cold, I disassembled the rigs, looking up every now and then to watch the tour of the Vatican.

  Landon’s voice was in my head at every age. When we were kids jumping off the roof to the trampoline, to the first time I’d strapped a snowboard on my feet, to the night he’d chosen the team over love and broken his own heart, to right…now as he took the tour for me so I could heal.

  Did he hate me so much for forcing him to choose? No way. Don’t even fucking think it.

  He’d been my best friend since grade school.

  It didn’t compute.

  I picked up the braking mechanisms one at a time, my heart sinking, then shattering.

  I looked at them twice, then a third time.

  “What’s wrong?” Leah asked.

  “They were under Landon’s bed.”

  “Yeah? It looks like half the gear for your team was under his bed.”

  I looked at her, and anger swelled through my limbs. She could have been hurt, or worse, killed that day. So many things could have gone wrong, all because I hadn’t kept my gear on me at all times. I’d been too trusting.

  “The brakes were tampered with.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leah

  Istanbul

  “To your right you can see the area in which the Holy Roman Emperors were crowned when the Hagia Sophia was Christian.” Dr. Williams pointed to the Arabic symbols hung high above the floor. “As you can see, this served as a mosque before it was declared a museum.”

  “Everything changes, doesn’t it?” Paxton said next to me as we walked around the massive structure.

  “You could…you know, talk to Landon,” I suggested.

  “No point,” he said.

  “Okay.” I exhaled slowly, counting to ten. We’d gone rounds for the last few days about wh
at he was going to do, which was a big fat nothing.

  “I told you, Landon didn’t do this. There’s zero chance. It had to have been an accident during assembly, or if someone opened it up to check it…or anything but Landon.”

  “Right,” I said. Keep quiet. But of course I couldn’t. “Because that’s what happened to your chest protector, too, right?”

  He shot me a go-to-hell look, which I shot right back. “Let’s just look at some history, okay?”

  He’d been this sour the whole damn time. On board, in class, during study sessions, all week. The worst? He hadn’t so much as kissed me again. The minute I suggested that he look into Landon, he shut me out like I was a direct threat to his best friend.

  For God’s sake, I suggested he talk to him, not practice waterboarding.

  “How’s that going for you?” Hugo asked as Paxton walked ahead of me.

  “He’s an ass.”

  “He sure likes you, though,” he answered, stopping to snap a picture on our way out.

  “What makes you say that?” The treatment I’d gotten the last few days definitely didn’t support that theory.

  “We may have run out of that French roast you like while we were at sea.”

  “No!” I gasped. “My lifeblood!”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, Paxton knew and made sure that you got all of his.” He watched for my reaction.

  “Really?” I glanced forward to where Paxton walked, his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Jeans that hung on nice hips and were accented with an incredible ass. Ugh.

  “Really. I’m just saying that he’s been a jerk since he got hurt, but if there’s something there, give it a shot.” He shrugged.

  “Yes, wise one.” I bowed my head.

  “Hey, admit it, you’re glad you kept the suite,” he said as we boarded the bus.

  I couldn’t believe there had been a time when I almost said no to everything…to Paxton. “You’re right. I’m glad.”

  “Firecracker?” Paxton asked as I approached where he sat. He pointed to the empty seat next to him and I took it after Hugo shot me a knowing look.

  “Feel like talking now?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I leaned out of my seat to move. I might be a little crazy over the guy, but I wasn’t a martyr. He stopped me, his fingers gentle on my wrist as he pulled.

  “I just want to be near you, if that’s okay.”

  I sat down. How the hell could I turn that down? “Okay,” I said, and settled in for a silent trip to the market. I looked past Paxton to where the Blue Mosque waited in quiet repose. The inside had stolen my breath, reminded me how much work it was to build something worth standing, worth marveling at.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked as the bus rolled into Istanbul traffic.

  “How beautiful things last when they’re built well and loved.”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  The drive over had me holding my breath more than once. I’d seen aggressive drivers, but even that trip to New York City couldn’t hold a candle to this insanity.

  The entire ride, I wanted to touch him, to put my hand on his and tell him that we’d figure out what was going on, or I’d let him figure it out on his own if he needed to. His eyes tracked everything as we drove by, his foot tapping. I’d seen that look before as he was planning a trick. I knew that he was thinking, but I didn’t quite expect it to hurt so much to be shut out.

  But what the hell did I expect? We’d been together all of what, two weeks? Were we together? He said so, but I never did. What was worse than craving Paxton from an unattainable distance? Being in relationship gray area with him.

  Maybe it was better to have a clean break now before I dug myself any deeper, though. Right? Cutting losses and all.

  The bus stopped on the side of the street, and Dr. Williams gave us the lecture about staying together, and safety, and how easy it was to get lost. I tried to pay attention, but all my focus was on the tiny crack in my heart that was growing by the minute.

  Better to feel that now than to wait around for him to pulverize me. And besides, you couldn’t miss what you never had.

  Except those tiny slivers of time where he’d been mine—those shone brighter than the rest of, well…everything.

  We filed out of the bus and moved as a herd through the pedestrian-only street, passing under a stone arch that read Grand Bazaar.

  As we entered the covered market, I moved my sunglasses to the top of my head. It was stunning, a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and the scent of fruit and spices. The stone arches stretched above us for what seemed to be miles. The whole atmosphere was alive, raucous, and slightly overwhelming.

  “Okay, take note, you have one hour,” Dr. Williams said over the noise. “Do not be late. Ship pulls out at five p.m. sharp, and I’d like to be on it.” He waved us free.

  “Want to shop with us?” Hugo asked, pointing to his friends.

  My gaze darted to where Paxton browsed in the booth next to us, picking up a ceramic crocodile. “I’d better stick with Paxton.”

  “You take those tutor duties seriously.” He winked.

  “Always,” I answered with a flat smile.

  “How about I bring up some ice cream for you and Penna later?” he offered.

  “Only if you binge with us.”

  “Deal.” He looked in Paxton’s direction. “Remember the coffee.” Then he met up with his group of friends, and they took off in the opposite direction.

  I kept Paxton in my peripheral vision while I looked at the intricate jewelry boxes in the booth. The blue one was gorgeous, but way outside my price range, so I set it down.

  “How much do they want for it?” Paxton asked, picking it up.

  “Too much,” I answered.

  “So? Get it. I haven’t seen you buy yourself a single thing on this trip besides sunscreen.” He opened and shut the lid.

  “I need to be careful with my money. I budgeted everything before I came, and I can buy myself one thing for the whole trip.” I turned away from him, running my fingers over the other boxes. They were all so detailed.

  There was a vendor with teapots across the walkway. “I’ll be right over there,” I said as Paxton picked up something else within a glass case.

  The teapots were as ornate as the boxes, the lines graceful yet functional. I flipped one over and nearly swallowed my tongue at the price.

  “I like that, too,” Paxton said, leaning over my shoulder.

  “Rachel and I have a thing for teapots,” I answered.

  “Rachel?” he asked.

  “My roommate who isn’t here yet.” I turned the pot over again. “She’s supposed to meet up with us at second trimester.”

  “Right.” Paxton nodded. “I’m glad to hear she’s still coming.”

  “Yeah, she’s chomping at the bit.”

  “So the teapots?” he said, taking it from me to check it out.

  “She loves that quote by Eleanor Roosevelt, the one that says women are like tea bags, because you never know how strong we are until we’re in hot water. We both had rough freshman years, and it kind of became our thing.”

  Rachel would love that teapot. It could be my Paxton pot. The time I got in way over my head and let yet another reckless asshole break my heart. At least this one won’t break your body.

  I took it out of Paxton’s hands and headed to the owner of the booth. This was definitely my Paxton pot. It could sit next to Rachel’s “I failed my chem final” pot and right above my “doc said one more surgery” pot.

  As I took my money out of my wallet, Paxton rolled his eyes. “Put your fanny pack away,” he said with a smile.

  It was the closest to a joke he’d made since we left Rome.

  “I can pay for it,” I argued. There was zero chance I was taking anything else from him. Not when he already had way too much of me.

  We locked eyes, a battle raging along the tension that connected us. “Fine,” h
e acquiesced. “But you’re not paying full price.”

  “It’s on the sticker, Pax,” I said as we arrived to the booth.

  “Haggling is half the fun,” he said. “Besides, they expect you to.”

  I rolled my eyes and let him get to it. By the time it was over, we’d lost a ton of time, but he’d gotten my teapot more than half off.

  “Thank you,” I said, tucking it into my small backpack.

  “No problem,” he answered.

  We walked side by side along the main walkways, then turned down a few alleys with smaller booths, tangling ourselves in the web of the market. With every step, the tension between us became something palpable, almost as if I could reach out and pluck it like a guitar string.

  What if this was how it would be from now on?

  Maybe he was done with me.

  That thought hurt more than it should have.

  “It feels good to get out,” he said, breaking our awkward silence.

  “I bet,” I answered.

  “It sucks that we blew the opportunity for the stunt, but I guess resting up before we head for more ramp practice is a safer bet.”

  I paused in the middle of the walkway, and Paxton turned around.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re getting on another ramp?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “What the hell do you mean, of course? Like it’s a given? Like there’s not even the possibility that you might take a look at what almost happened to you and rethink that choice?”

  “Leah, nothing happened.” He took a step toward me, and I moved backward.

  “Really? Because I was there. I saw you come down. I saw the bike hit, and you hit, and then the bike come down on you.”

  “I take risks every single day of my life. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. It’s how I made my name.”

  “Even if it kills you?”

  He shook his head. “It hasn’t.”