Rome
I swatted away the light shining in my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said, having assured the hundredth doctor in the last twenty minutes.
How long had it been since the crash? An hour? More?
“Well, you look like shit,” Landon said, leaning back in the chair next to my bed.
“Thanks.” I flipped him off. “I over-rotated.”
“Yeah,” he agreed and leaned forward. “Your chest protector saved your life. You cracked it clean down the middle.”
“Damn. That must have been some crash. You still have it for the wall?”
Landon nodded. “I snaked it once they cut the straps off you. You can hang it next to the protector you destroyed that year you were going for the long-distance jump.”
I grunted my approval. “Where are we?”
“Hospital in Rome. What do you remember?”
I thought back. “I knew I over-rotated, so I tried to push the bike back, but we came down vertical. I don’t remember anything after impact.” After hearing Leah scream my name. “Where’s Leah?”
Landon smirked. “In the waiting room. You want her?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “She’s got to be scared shitless.”
“She’s tougher than you give her credit for, your little firecracker. She actually broke one of the guard’s toes trying to get to you.”
My chest swelled with pride. “She’s something else.”
“She is,” he agreed, then left the room, closing the door behind him. I took a moment and soaked in the quiet of the private room, testing my limb function. Everything wiggled and moved, but it hurt to breathe too deeply.
“You’re okay!” Leah exclaimed right after she burst through the door. Her braid had come undone at the sides, giving her a slightly maddened look that made her all the more beautiful to me.
“I’m okay,” I promised, moving to sit up.
“Don’t you dare!” she snapped, rushing to the side of my bed. “You’re really okay?”
“Yeah.” She was worried, and not only worried about how long I’d be out if I was hurt, but genuinely concerned for me. Damn, I liked that a little too much. “Do you want to kiss me?” I offered.
“Yes,” she said softly, bending to caress my lips with her own. That glow was back in my heart, shiny and warm.
“Do I get a sympathy yes, now?”
She arched an eyebrow. “No.”
“A guy has to try,” I said as the door opened. Apparently Italian doctors weren’t too big on knocking.
“Mr. Wilder,” the doc said in accented English, lifting a chest X-ray to the light board and flipping it on. “You are lucky. Nothing is broken. No concussion.”
I did a mini fist-pump. “Yes,” I hissed.
He gave me a look of pure disdain that was echoed by Leah. “But your ninth and tenth ribs are bruised, probably where you impacted with your motorbike.”
“But not broken,” I reiterated. Broken was a pain in the ass, but I could still function, still perform with bruised.
“No. Not broken. You’ll need to rest until the ribs heal, but other than the scrapes on your torso, you’re fine.”
Score one for protective gear. At least this accident had been of my own making. Hell, if I could screw up something like this, maybe I had overlooked something in the rigs. Besides, nothing bad had happened since Miami. Maybe I’d been stressed out over nothing—or worse—over my own idiocy.
“We’d like to keep you overnight for observation—”
“No thanks,” I interrupted, yanking the IV out of my arm. “I never did like hospitals much, so if I can sign a release, I’ll be out of your hair.”
Oh yeah, this doc was not impressed with me. “Of course. I’ll have a nurse bring you the papers.”
“I’ll tell Little John to fire up the cars so we can get back to the ship,” Landon said, following the doctor out.
“You sure you don’t want to stay overnight?” Leah asked, her eyes imploring.
“I’m okay. Trust me, I’ve bruised a couple ribs in my life. I’ll do better at home. I probably need a couple days of rest and I’ll be fine.”
“More like a couple weeks,” she rebutted.
“Weeks will kill me. Days are all I’m giving myself. I’ve trained with way worse.”
“Okay,” she replied, but her eyes said something else entirely. They shone with disappointment, and that hurt.
It was an odd revelation considering I’d never given a fuck what anyone thought of me, except maybe Mom. “I’m fine. I promise.”
“I said okay,” she rebutted softly. “You know the limits of your body way better than I do.”
Before we could get further into it, the Renegades arrived with a ball-busting wheelchair, ready to take me home.
Leah stayed with us until they tucked me in like a five-year-old, but some of the light had faded from her eyes, and I hated knowing that I was responsible.
I hated thinking it wouldn’t be the last time.
…
“Rise and shine,” Leah said as I was coming out of my bathroom the next morning. Mixed with the aroma of the coffee she was holding, it was pretty damn perfect.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” I said, wincing when I leaned over to grab the shirt I dropped on the floor.
Leah put the coffee on my nightstand and then raced over to help. “You’re not supposed to be up.” She grabbed the shirt but got a little distracted when she stood to hand it over.
“Leah.”
“Uh-huh?” she asked, her eyes raking over my chest, examining my tattoos, gnawing on her lower lip.
Fuck, the way the woman looked at me got me insanely hard. I thought about flexing just for fun, to see if those eyes would dilate any further. My head swam with visions of stripping that long, strappy shirt off her, taking those gorgeous breasts in my mouth, and watching her eyes roll back.
I wanted to fuck her senseless and make love to her at the same time, which wasn’t a combination I was familiar with. Sex had never been emotional, merely a physical release, a challenge to see how many times I could get a girl to come before she was begging for me.
But I wanted to worship Leah.
“Paxton?” she asked, and I blinked. Now I was the distracted one. “Does it hurt?” She motioned to the dark purple bruising along my ribs.
“It’s not too bad,” I lied. It hurt like a bitch whenever I moved.
She thrust the shirt at me, her cheeks deliciously pink. I quickly pulled it over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves, wincing again when the material brushed the scrape that took up a full seven inches on my side.
“You’re not supposed to be up,” she repeated her earlier comment.
“Well, I kind of had to use the bathroom, and my mouth tasted like something furry curled up and died in there, so I figured I should do something about that.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.”
I walked over to the bed and got in without making ugly “I hurt” faces, but she knew and propped three pillows behind my back. “Better?”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“Sure,” she said, handing me coffee. Then she grabbed her backpack from the doorway where she’d dropped it. “Ready?”
“For what?” I asked, taking a sip of the nectar of the gods. “And shouldn’t you be gone by now? The schedule said the excursion is leaving soon.”
She rolled her eyes. “The excursion left an hour ago.”
My mouth dropped open. “But the Vatican? The Pantheon? What about the lab grade?”
She walked around to the opposite side of my bed and then—fuck my self-control—the woman got into bed with me. She didn’t say yes yet, so calm down.
“Remote me,” she ordered, her hand outstretched.
I passed her the TV remote, and she flipped through until she found what she was looking for, a shitty documentary with nauseatingly bad cinematography.
“There we go,” she said.
I glanced between her and the TV. “I’m all for indie flicks, but this feels like the Blair Witch Project.”
Her smile was sexy as hell. And apparently you have one thing on your mind. “It’s a GoPro with sound, and Landon is wearing it,” she answered. “He’s on our excursion so you don’t lose points. I gave our prof the note from the doc yesterday, and he’s giving you an excuse.”
That glow in my chest cranked up to nuclear level. This girl was amazing in ways I’d never be worthy of. “What about your grade?”
She shrugged. “I told him I’d guarantee that you’d watch, so he gave me the points, too.”
“But this is Rome, and you’re missing it.” For me. Because of me.
“It’s not going anywhere, is it? I can come back. Besides, logically speaking, if you fail, I miss the rest of my trip, so you can think of this as the payment for the next ports if you want to.”
I didn’t want to think about it at all. Liking her was one thing. Wanting her was a base, sexual need that I fully understood. But this feeling? I didn’t know what the hell to do with this.
She leaned over me to get to her coffee, and I stopped her mid-lean, putting my cup down next to hers. “You are incredible,” I told her.
“Same goes for you, Mr. X Games.”
I shook my head. “No, what I do is for me. For the fun, the victory, the hits, the records. But you…you’re…incredible,” I said again, my brain too fried to think of another word. “Can I—?”
“Yes,” she answered before I could finish.
Then my mouth was on hers, and all words were gone.
She tasted like her toothpaste and coffee, earth and mint and…mine. My fingers tightened at the base of her skull, woven into the thick strands of her hair. I kissed her with every ounce of skill I had, wanting—needing—this kiss to brand her the same way she was branding me, setting the standard way too high for anyone who tried to come along next.
No next. Just this one. Just now.
I slammed the door on those thoughts and concentrated on kissing Leah, on the tiny gasps she made after I kissed her deeply, licked every line inside her mouth. I wanted to mark all of her recesses and curves, make her feel as owned as she made me feel.
I used my other arm to guide her on top of me, and she straddled my lap, the thin material of her leggings nearly no barrier between my dick and her hot center. She rubbed against me, and a groan rumbled through my chest.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her voice raspy.
“Fuck, no,” I answered, pulling her back into my kiss.
She broke away. “Your ribs have to be killing you.”
I did a mental check. Ribs? No pain. Dick? Throbbing. “You’ll kill me if you stop.”
She gave me a slow smile and then lowered her mouth tantalizingly slow, first licking my lower lip and then gently tugging it with her teeth. “Leah,” I growled.
Then she gave me her mouth, and I fucking took it.
Every stroke of her tongue drove me higher; every time she moaned it shook me to the core. I’d never gotten so wound up from kissing someone before, especially someone who probably wasn’t ready for everything my body begged for. My hands gripped her waist, then her ass, loving the way she filled my hands, the way she moved against me when I squeezed gently.
She rubbed her breasts against my chest and suddenly I didn’t just want to get my mouth on her, I needed to. I needed to give her something for staying with me today when everyone else usually walked away when I was hurt.
I needed her to feel as good as she made me feel.
My hands worked their way up her ribs until my thumbs grazed the underwire of her bra. “Firecracker?” I asked.
She leaned up, crossed her arms in front of her and removed her top. “Yes.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue. I knew the shape of her breasts, hell, I’d caught myself looking way too often to be considered a good guy, but fuuuuuck. They were perfection, cupped in pink lace that was an equal mix of innocence and sexy that had my mouth watering.
I locked gazes with her, and she arched toward me. I closed my mouth over one hardened nipple, running my tongue over the lace. “Pax,” she gasped, her hands flying to my hair.
That was all it took for my control to unravel. I didn’t look away from her as I unclipped her bra, watching for the first sign of “no,” or even hesitation. Instead, she slipped the straps down her arms, and the bra joined her shirt on the floor.
“You are exquisite,” I said even before I glanced. I didn’t need eyes on her to know that she was sheer perfection.
“Quid pro quo?” she asked, tugging on my shirt.
I lifted my arms, and she slid it over my head, her breath catching in a way that made me feel like a god.
“May I?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said enthusiastically. This yes game was fucking awesome.
Her fingertips skimmed my chest, pausing on my various tats and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “How many do you have?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Some pieces grew into others, some morphed into different ones.”
“Do they have meanings?”
“Some. Others I thought were beautiful, or were representative of what I was feeling at the time.”
She lingered on the dragon that wrapped around my heart and trailed down my abs. “This is beautiful.”
“So are you,” I said, counting in my head to keep my hands off her until she was ready. I didn’t know what was holding her back, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to push her.
“I haven’t…been with anyone in a really long time,” she admitted.
“Okay. How long?” I gently tipped her chin so she’d meet my eyes. I would sit here all fucking day with our shirts off and not touch her if it meant she unlocked just one of those doors in her head and let me in. I might gnaw off my own hands, but it’d be worth it.
“A…a while.” Her eyes were wide, tinged with fear and something else I couldn’t name.
“Okay. Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, knowing there was a reason. There was zero chance she wasn’t being chased by half the population of Dartmouth.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t know if I can… I don’t want to be a tease, or disappoint you.”
I sat up higher, ignoring the near-crippling pain in my ribs. Then I kissed her gently, keeping it chaste despite the sheer electricity shooting through me where her breasts pressed against my chest. “You couldn’t tease me because I have no expectations. I’m not a little boy, Leah. I can more than control myself, and if all we do is kiss, then that’s more than I could ask for. Do you understand?”
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.”
