Rebel (The Renegades Book 3)
Rebel: Chapter 22

IqueIque

Chile was gorgeously warm. I’d left my hair down and put on a simple, curve-hugging dress that zipped the length of the front. The taxi left the port, only to pull over another block away, and Cruz slid in next to me.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said, kissing me lightly after he gave the driver an address.

“Hello yourself,” I answered, slipping my hand into his. It was such a simple gesture, but it brought the sweetest feeling rushing through me.

“You ready for dinner? I figured we’d get checked in and then head out.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m sorry I was so late. It took three showers to get the sand off me, and I’m pretty sure it’s still in some pretty unmentionable places.”

He laughed, those dimples making a much sought-after appearance. “Me, too. I can’t believe I let you talk me into strapping on one of those snowboards and sandboarding down the dunes this morning.”

“Admit it, it was fun.”

“Very fun,” he agreed. “Landon is a beast on a board.”

“Yeah, he’s wicked talented with that thing.”

The taxi pulled onto the seaside highway, and as Cruz stared out at the ocean, I studied him. His face was clean-shaven, and though I loved when he wore his close-cut beard, I loved this look, too. The angles of his face stood out without the beard, and I’d honestly never seen a more beautiful man. The sheer perfection of Cruz was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just the chiseled face or the honed body. It was his mind, his heart, the way he protected and respected me at the same time, even when it cost him his own pride to watch me do the things I did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as the city sped by us on the left.

“You,” I answered honestly. There were no games between us, no need to play coy.

“Good things, I hope.” His fingers brushed across my knuckles, the sensation heightening the giant ball of anticipation in my stomach.

“All good things. Do you think we’ll be safe where we’re going?”

“I picked a place just outside the city. Most of the faculty was talking about the casinos, so I’m hopeful they’ll stay away, but I have to be honest, unless we’re locked behind a bedroom door, there’s always a chance.”

I leaned over, brushing my lips across his cheek as my hand shifted to his thigh. “I’m perfectly fine with a locked bedroom door.”

Uncaring that the taxi driver was only a few feet away, Cruz kissed me, tilting my head for a better angle in the tight space. His hands stayed neutral and G-rated, but his tongue was clearly an R.

My fingers bit into the fabric of his pants, and my mind screamed one word: closer. More. Okay, that was two words, but they both centered around Cruz.

He gave me a soft, sipping kiss as he pulled away. “I told you there’s no pressure—”

“I want you.” I enunciated every word. “And that’s not something I’ve said to any other man.”

“How did I get so lucky?” he murmured, kissing my forehead.

“Vegas, baby,” I teased.

The cab pulled up in front of a modern boutique hotel, and Cruz spoke with the driver in rapid-fire Spanish, handing over money before he stepped out. Then he offered me a hand, and I took it, sliding out of the taxi with my bag in the other hand.

My heels clicked on the marble floor as we made our way through the entrance, and my eyes caught on the fountain that decorated the chic lobby.

“Want to wait here while I check in?” Cruz offered.

“Sure,” I agreed. He headed toward the reception desk, and I found myself at the end of the lobby, which opened to a wide patio.

We were right on the beach, only a thick strip of rock and gray sand between us and the Pacific Ocean. The sun made her descent in a riot of color, sinking into the water in a picture-worthy display. I didn’t have my camera—I couldn’t risk that someone would see a photo of Cruz and me together—so I memorized every detail. The waves crashed in a rhythm that hypnotized the beat of my heart, and a feeling of peace swept over me—of rightness.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood out there, but the bare skin of my shoulders had a slight chill when Cruz found me.

“There you are,” he said, his voice a low rumble in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You are beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. “Do you want the good news?”

“Of course.”

“There are no other Americans checked in—or checking in. Just you and me.”

I turned in his arms. “How did you figure that out?”

“The receptionist was more than favorable to a little bribery,” he answered with a grin.

My forehead puckered. Bribery meant he’d spent money, and by the looks of this place, our stay tonight wasn’t going to be cheap.

“Penelope Carstairs, don’t you dare even think about asking if I can afford this place,” Cruz chastised softly, reading my mind.

“It’s gorgeous—”

“And I’m fine. I’ve been working since I was fourteen years old. I’m well invested, and while I definitely don’t own a cruise ship, my mortgage company thinks I’m pretty dependable.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to offer to pay. The money meant nothing to me. I made more on a single commercial for Gremlin or anything Fox promoted. But that look in his eyes told me that was never going to happen, so I smiled instead and said the only thing I could think of. “Thank you.”

His smile was more beautiful than the sunset.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you sneak me away one night to make up for it when we’re back in L.A.”

I blinked, trying to ignore the swell of my heart that threatened to swallow my throat. “Back in L.A.?”

“Well, yeah. We do dock in seven weeks, right? I figured I’d be going home…and you’d be going there, too, right? With me?”

“You…you still want to be with me when this is over?” I asked softly, scared of the answer, because I wasn’t sure if it would affect how badly I wanted him and subsequently what that would say about me.

“Penelope, do you really think I’d risk everything to be with you if I didn’t see a future for us? You’re not a fling. You’re not someone to pass the time with. I’m in this way too deep and way too fast, but that doesn’t change my feelings. Unless you don’t feel the same?”

“How could I not feel the same? I just know that when we get home, you’ll have your choice of any woman you want. I’m not stupid or blind. And that’s not some insecure cue for you to reassure me—it’s the truth. The same as I know I’ll be hounded by guys on the circuit who all want to add me to their trophy cases. But I also know that I’m complicated, and kind of a pain in the ass—”

He stopped my word vomit with a soft kiss, gently running his tongue along the seam of my lips but not asking for entrance. “You are all that and more. You challenge every belief I’ve ever held about relationships, and I have a feeling you’ll keep that up, which I am more than fine with. I’m not an easy man, and you’re anything but an easy woman, but together we are effortless, because I can’t imagine any other possibility.”

Swoon alert: aisle three.

“Now, can I get us settled in our room so I can take you to dinner?”

I nodded, my powers of speech momentarily paralyzed by the utterly perfect words he’d said. We rode the elevator, our hands linked. Could this be what my life would look like in a few months? A few years?

Hotels in foreign countries after expos, Cruz at my side. Me cooking dinner while he graded papers, or him changing the bandages on whatever I’d managed to rip apart that week. I’d been so focused on getting him now, I’d been ignoring the possibility of what could happen in the future. And that future sounded really damn good.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened, and we found our suite.

“This is gorgeous,” I said, seeing the comfortable living room, spacious bathroom, and plush bedroom. Our balcony looked out over the ocean, and the breeze gently ruffled the sheers.

“I figured if we were closed in here, it had better be someplace worth being closed in to. I don’t know if we’ll get another chance until Buenos Aires, and I wanted to make the most of it.” He set our bags on the dresser. “Do you want to head down to dinner?”

I knew exactly what I wanted for dinner, and he was standing right in front of me. “I’d rather stay in,” I said softly.

The air between us felt electric.

“Penelope,” he whispered, those gorgeous brown eyes darkening as everything about his posture changed from relaxed to alert and ready.

I crossed the small distance between us, my heart rate picking up with every step I took until I stood in front of him, my hand on his chest. “I don’t know how to seduce a man, Cruz. You’re the only experience I have in that department. So pretend I’ve tossed my hair, or done some really erotic striptease or whatever it takes, and just know that I’d like to stay in.”

His chest expanded with a swift intake of his breath, and one of his hands wove through my hair to grip lightly. “You are a walking, talking seduction. There is nothing you have to say for me to want you, nothing you have to do. You have been a fever I can’t break since that first night in the bar, way before you ever asked me to jump with you. You want me? Good, because I’m fucking desperate to get my hands on you. Just say the words.”

My tongue swept out to wet my lips, and I looked him straight in the eyes. “I want you to make love to me. Those words good enough for you?”

“Yeah, those will do,” he said a millisecond before his mouth met mine.

His kiss felt different from every other time—a little more wild, unrestrained, but still deliciously thorough. He kissed like a man who knew where this was going but wasn’t in a rush to get there.

My fingers undid the buttons on his shirt. This time I’d explore him, touch and taste as much as I wanted. We weren’t due back until the class excursion at noon tomorrow, and I planned to use every minute to my advantage.

By the time we left this room I would know every inch of Cruz.

He shrugged out of the shirt without breaking our kiss, his skin exposed and warm beneath my fingers. I’d always loved tattoos, and the one on his arm was a powerful reminder of his past—and a huge turn-on—but there was something to be said for yards of firm, untouched caramel skin draped over cords of strong muscle.

I broke our kiss to place one on his chest, running my mouth down the line of his pecs and flicking my tongue over one of his nipples.

He sucked in his breath, and I smiled. God, it was going to be so much fun to control him for once.

I pushed him backward, and he fell to the bed laughing, his feet hanging off the end. “This time you’re naked first,” I ordered as he grinned up at me, his weight braced on his elbows.

“Think you can break my control?”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as I slid the strap of his belt free from its buckle. “Think I can’t?” God, his abs were perfection, flexed in a perfect curve as he sat there. That line that drove me nuts ran in perfect symmetry down his sides, disappearing inside his boxers.

I followed them with my finger, savoring the way the muscles tensed under my touch.

“Oh, I’m well aware that you can, and if you had any idea of the fantasies that had played out in my head the last seven weeks, you wouldn’t doubt it for a second.”

My knees hit the floor after I slid off the bed, and I made quick work of his dress shoes and socks, listening to them fall to the floor with a satisfying thud. “Fantasies, huh?” I asked, hooking my fingers into the waist of his now-undone pants and taking his boxers for good measure.

Trying to steady my already-quick breaths, I tugged, keeping my eyes on his as I removed the last of his clothing, careful not to catch his erection.

“This would definitely be one of them.” Our eyes locked as I stood at the foot of the bed. “You can look. God knows I’m going to do the same to you in a moment.”

Biting my lower lip, I let my eyes drop over the smooth expanse of chest, to his washboard stomach, to—holy shit he was impressive. I tore my eyes away from his length and finished my open perusal of his strong thighs. The man definitely didn’t skip leg day—I stared at his ass often enough to know.

“God, you’re…you’re…” I couldn’t think of words that would do his body justice, and that didn’t even include the perfection of his face.

“Yours. I’m yours.”

He lay there so calmly that if I didn’t see his fists in the covers, tightening over the fabric, I might have thought he was relaxed, almost unaffected.

Well, that and his giant, gorgeous erection. Could erections be gorgeous? His was all smooth and strong, and… My fingers found him, closing around the silken skin and squeezing lightly. Oh yeah, so freaking hard.

“Penelope,” he moaned my name, his head rolling back.

My hand ran up and down, watching his every reaction. His hips rolled once, then stayed still, the look on his face nearly painful. His eyes were closed, as if watching me would be too much.

I let go, running my hands up the sides of his abs and crawling onto the bed until my knees were between his outstretched thighs. I kissed a path up his stomach, and as if it was my own being caressed, my body temp rose, and a steady, sweet ache grew between my thighs.

One of his hands massaged the back of my head as I reached the strong cords of his neck.

“You about done playing?” he asked, his voice scratchy and deep.

I pulled back enough to look into his eyes, which were anything but playful. They were intense under the dark black brows, as if I’d woken a beast who was trying his best to stay caged.

“If I say no?” My leg ran up the inside of his thigh and over until I straddled it.

“I’m trying, Penelope,” he warned.

I kissed the smooth line of his jaw until his earlobe was between my lips, and I ran my teeth along the flesh gently. “Quit trying.”

He flipped me over so fast I was shocked I didn’t have whiplash. With a quick motion, he lifted my weight with one arm and settled my head on the pillow as he rose above me. “My turn.”

The sound of a zipper filled the quiet as he opened my dress, his eyes growing darker, his breath deeper with every inch of skin revealed. His gaze slid over my black lace bra, and he muttered something in Spanish, then past the matching panties until my entire dress lay open on either side of me.

“Tell me you’re certain,” he begged as his hand ran from my throat, over the center of my bra, and down my stomach.

“Is this where you tell me that this is my last opportunity to say stop? That after this you won’t be able to control yourself?” I half teased, half hoped he’d say yes.

Instead he placed a hot, wet kiss between my breasts, then peeled the straps of my dress from my arms, waiting for me to arch so he could get the dress off entirely.

“You read too many books.” He laughed, then stopped, kissing my neck.

I groaned as he found my trigger point, wrapping one of my legs around his hips.

He pulled back, then slid his hands down my thighs, over my knees, past my calves, until he slipped my heels off, throwing them to the floor. Then he traced a path up my leg, punctuating his words with kisses. “You can say stop at any moment, and I’ll listen. I’m never too far gone to do what’s best for you. That being said, God, I hope you don’t want me to stop.”

He nipped gently at the skin of my inner thigh, and I whimpered as he soothed it with a kiss and a stroke of his tongue. My hips rolled, growing more restless with each passing moment.

I wasn’t a prude; I’d thought about sex before. But this was nothing like the hurried, hard, union I’d pictured when I’d wondered what it would be like. I didn’t even have words for what this was, but I knew I wanted—needed—more.

His breath blew over my panties a second before he placed a kiss to my lace-covered cleft, his nose lightly pushing so that the fabric brushed against my clit.

I gasped, my fingers fisting in his hair.

“Tell me you’re certain,” he repeated.

“I’m certain.” I’d never been more certain about anything in my life.

He backed away and stood, which brought me up on my elbows. Before I could ask if I’d said something wrong, he crossed the room toward his bag, that magnificent ass flexing with every movement.

Suddenly the vision struck of me grasping onto that ass while he pushed inside me, and I nearly groaned from my own erotic thoughts.

He pulled something out of his bag and returned to me, tossing a condom on the nightstand.

“I’m on birth control, too,” I told him. “So we’re double protected.” Nothing was worse for a girl than an unpredictable cycle on circuit.

“Good to know,” he told me, settling back between my thighs. Before I could take a full breath, he’d drawn my panties to the side and ran his tongue through my folds, then spread me and sucked at my clit.

“Holy. Oh. My. God. Cruz!” I yelled, my hips bucking against him, seeking out his mouth. I smothered my yell, slamming my hand over my mouth.

Cruz leaned up over me, blocking everything from my vision but him. As he licked my taste off his lips, he pulled my hand away. “Scream as loud as you want. I don’t give a fuck what the neighbors think.”

He kissed me, long and hard, and by the time he pulled away, my legs moved restlessly against him. That sweet tension spiraled tight, the sensation its own desperate demand to be appeased.

I lifted my hips when he met my eyes and dragged my panties down my legs until they joined my shoes on the floor. Then his lips were between my thighs, licking, sucking, kissing, never ceasing.

My hips moved, riding against his mouth, chasing the high I knew he’d bring me to. My skin flushed as pleasure whipped through my body, building and weaving into something impossibly, gloriously tight and tense.

His name was a plea on my lips as he worshipped me.

“You taste incredible. I could stay here all night. Tomorrow, too,” he said, then continued his onslaught.

My whimpers grew to full-blown moans as I gave over to the feelings coursing through me. I became pure sensation, my entire being focused on the incredible way he made me feel—like I was lighter than air and could fly away at any second, all while being anchored to the ground by his hands, his mouth.

When his fingers entered me, stretched me, my hips changed their rhythm to meet him, relishing in the full pressure, the slight burn.

“God, you’re so tight, Penelope. I can’t wait to be inside you, to feel you ripple on my cock when you come.”

Whether it was what he said or the way he stroked my inner walls, he had me mindless with the combination of overwhelming pleasure and stark need.

My muscles locked, then quaked as his perfect fingers sent me over the edge. I screamed his name as the orgasm took me, rocking through me in waves of bliss. When I came back down, I was limp, boneless, and I was sure my weak, sated smile had nothing on Cruz’s. He looked like he’d swallowed the sun.

He kissed me, settling a portion of his weight on me, and as I arched under him at the contact of our skin, he slid a hand behind my back and undid my bra with a snap of his fingers.

A moment later I was finally as naked as he was.

His mouth worshipped my breasts, reigniting the fire I was sure he’d already put out. Each tug on my nipple, each stroke of his tongue brought that need back to the surface until it burned brighter than before.

His fingers stroked through my wetness, and I swore I saw him shake a little. “Perfection.” Then he ripped the foil package open and covered himself. I’d never seen a more erotic sight—he was giving me so many firsts tonight.

His knees between my thighs, my muscles tensed as his hardness brushed my entrance. I closed my eyes, bracing for whatever came next. It shouldn’t hurt, right? I’d done extreme sports my whole life, so it wasn’t like I was about to bleed. And sure, he was huge, but it’s not like he wasn’t going to fit or some other absurd idea.

“Penelope,” he called my name, and my eyes popped open to meet his. A ghost of a smile passed over his lips before he kissed me, long and deep.

Like he’d forgotten that his erection was right there, he thumbed my nipple, kissed my throat, and brought that fire right back to raging.

“Tell me you’re certain,” he ordered, rocking against me so that he slid through my folds. His eyes slowly shut as he hissed.

“We already had this portion of the conversation.” My arms looped around his neck.

“I’m not kidding. I don’t want you to have any regrets about what happens between us tonight.” One of his thumbs brushed my cheekbone as his eyes searched my face for any sign of indecisiveness. “I’ve never done this before, you know, and I want it to be perfect for you.”

“Sex? You’ve never had sex?”

He kissed my nose. “Been someone’s first. Been your first.”

“I guess we’re both in virgin territory,” I said with a grin, running my nails down his back lightly.

He groaned, arching into my touch. “Penelope,” he said in half warning, half moan.

I waited until our gazes met and then kissed him, sucking on his lower lip lightly. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life than I am at this moment.”

He nodded, the muscles in his jaw flexing like he struggled for control.

“God, I’m crazy about you. Literally fucking insane,” he told me. There was no chance to respond—not with his tongue licking into my mouth while his fingers stroked inside me with a smooth, hot push. He added a third, and I welcomed the sting, knowing he was way bigger than those three fingers.

I rocked with him, moving against his hand until I was just as desperate as I had been earlier and in complete wonder that he could bring those feelings on again with such intensity.

His fingers were replaced by the head of his erection, and while one of his hands gripped my thigh, the other was gentle on my face. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he whispered.

The earlier nervousness was gone, replaced by a feeling of not only need but adoration, and something much sweeter, so much more dangerous that I shoved it to the side and concentrated on our bodies.

Then he pushed inside, slowly and surely, never once looking away from me. I took a stuttered breath as he slid in farther, the burn present but not painful. Instead, I felt full, like every empty place in my body, my soul, my heart, had been consumed by Cruz. My eyes stung with the perfection of it, and I blinked back the tears as our bodies merged completely.

“Are you okay?” he asked, softly wiping away one I hadn’t caught.

“More than okay,” I assured him. I moved a fraction of an inch and was rewarded by a burst of deep pleasure that was unlike anything I’d ever felt. “God, that’s amazing.”

“Just wait,” he promised, sweat dotting his forehead.

This man was huge, so strong, so powerful, and yet he was so completely tender and careful with me. I tilted my hips and then rocked them back as he slid within me, dragging through my most sensitive flesh.

“Penelope. God. Don’t. Give yourself a second.” His forehead puckered, and his eyes slid shut as he groaned.

The sound was gorgeous, and I wanted to hear it again immediately, so I rocked again, this time a little more forcefully. “I’m okay,” I promised, knowing he held back on my account. I wanted all of him—no holding back, no pretending we weren’t wild about each other. Just every raw ounce he had to give me.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Watching me carefully, he pulled out until he was nearly unsheathed, then slid back in with a moan.

Holy shit, that felt good.

“You’re so fucking tight. Perfect.”

“More.” It was the only word that came to mind. He felt so good that I could nearly taste the pleasure, sweet and heady.

Forehead braced on mine, he slowly pumped, starting an unhurried, sensual rhythm that made me gasp every time he left me and moan softly with every rejoining. “Faster,” I begged. “God, please, Cruz.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His breath was slightly unsteady, the muscles in his arms rigid.

“Don’t hold back. We only have tonight here.” Then we’d be on the ship—where we had to hide, had to sneak kisses. Had to cover our moans, or worse—stay away from each other.

His mouth consumed mine, the motions of his tongue in time with his thrusts, as the rhythm picked up—stronger, harder, but not faster. I brought my knees up to take him deeper, my cries echoing off the walls of our room.

God, this…this was worth everything. He was worth everything. Just the ability to hold him, to take him inside my body, to show him without words how I felt about him was worth every time I had to keep my eyes off him, every time I couldn’t claim him.

Since I couldn’t tell the world he was mine, I branded him with my body instead.

The man pushed me on and upward, his pace never slowing, never changing as my body coiled around his. My nails scored his back, and I braced my feet on the bed, rocking to meet him with every thrust.

“God, baby,” he moaned. “My Penelope.”

The hand that cradled my leg slid up the inside of my thigh, until he’d moved a thumb between us. He expertly stroked my clit, swirling and rubbing, taking every thought out of my head except the buildup of pressure in my belly that was slowly drawing me inward.

“Cruz,” I whimpered, then yelled. How could he build me up like this again? Bring me to this edge so quickly?

“Right there. Can you feel it coming?”

“Yes!”

“Then let go.” He pushed in, giving my body the exact pressure it needed to let go as he slammed home, and I saw stars. My vision faded, the edges going black as I came, too consumed to even scream.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said softly as I drifted back down.

My breath came in giant gulps as his thrusts increased, our sweat-slick bodies sliding together as we met over and over again.

I locked my ankles and braced my hands against the headboard as his rhythm became frantic, his face taut with tension and wonder.

Then he pushed one more time, so deep that I gasped, and he shuddered above me with a deep groan. My arms cradled him, and I tried to take in every detail of this moment, from the pounding of my heart, the shortness of breath, to the way his weight stopped just short of crushing me.

He sucked in a shaky breath, and then rolled us to the side, brushing a damp tendril of my hair from my face.

We stayed like that for precious minutes, looking at each other while our breathing steadied, his hands lightly stroking my waist, my hip, my arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Better than. I’m just about perfect. That was perfect. Is it…is it always like that?” I hated asking, but I needed to know if it was as earth-shattering for him as it was for me, or if it was simply another time he’d had sex.

“It’s never been like that for me,” he answered softly, his thumb sliding across my lower lip. “Everything about you is a revelation.”

I snuggled closer, tucking my head under his as his arms wrapped around me.

“You are the scariest, most addictive woman I’ve ever been around, and after that, Penelope, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of you. Are you sore?”

I took stock of my body, noting the slight throb coming from between my thighs. “A little.”

I winced as he slipped free.

“Wait here.”

Rolling over, I openly admired his ass again as he made his way to the bathroom. A flush later, I heard running water.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Drawing you a bath. It should help with the soreness.”

“You are a prince among men,” I told him, stretching as he came back in, the water steadily flowing in the bathroom behind him.

He bit his lip, his eyes taking on that gleam I knew was desire as he looked over my body. “I wish I had pure intentions. I’m just hoping I can get you comfortable enough to take you again before we have to go back to the ship,” he added with a wiggle of an eyebrow. “I wasn’t kidding about not getting enough of you. How the hell are we going to keep this under wraps? I’m pretty sure my need for you is going to be impossible to hide.”

“I guess we’d better make the most of our alone time,” I suggested as he effortlessly lifted me into his arms.

Room service and two more orgasms later, I fell asleep curled in his arms, realizing that he’d ruined me for anyone else. I wasn’t sure anyone could ever hold a candle to tonight—to Cruz.

When I woke a few hours later, it was to the click of our bedroom door as Cruz walked back in. I blinked, sleepy-drunk and trying to make sense of what was going on. “Is it time to go?”

He placed a thick envelope into his bag and started stripping.

“No, baby. I just needed a walk,” he said softly, kissing me on the forehead.

He stripped, and I forgot all about his late-night need for fresh air as he replaced my breath with his, taking me slowly, sweetly, carefully, but with no less passion than before. I came apart under him, unraveling so completely that I wasn’t sure I was me anymore as much as I was his.

Finally spent with bone-deep exhaustion, I tumbled into a deep sleep and, for once, my reality was even better than the dreams that waited for me.