Rebel (The Renegades)

by Rebecca Yarros

  “You? I make you do stupid things?” he nearly yelled, and I was thankful for the loud, driving beat of the music beyond the office doors. “Woman, I got into a strange car for you. Illegally BASE jumped off a Ferris wheel to stay close to you. Went to jail for you, and I make you do stupid things?”

  He stalked forward, his movements smooth like a predator, and a low hum filled my stomach, growing stronger with every step he took.

  “I let you stay in my class. Stupid. I look for every reason to run into you, while simultaneously praying you’ll stay far away because I need this job. Stupid. I take one look at you in that fucking dress, and I’m so hard I’m afraid I can’t hide it in a room full of students. Stupid. I can’t stop thinking about the way you taste, the way you open up under me, the way your nails left little half-moons in my shoulders when I found how wet you were for me.”

  If he got his hands anywhere near me, he’d find out I was just as wet now. God, his words were the biggest turn-on I’d ever experienced. Next to his abs. Or his arms. Or his mouth. Crap, the man was one giant sex package begging to be unwrapped.

  “Cruz,” I whispered as he cupped my face with one hand, his thumb rubbing over my lower lip, while he caged me against the desk with the other.

  My tongue licked across the tip of his finger, unable to help myself.

  “God, Penelope. You could cost me everything, and yet I’m still in here with you. And this might be the worst choice of all.”

  His mouth met mine in a kiss that sent my senses reeling. His tongue swept in, claiming every curve he might have missed last time, until it felt like my mouth belonged to him.

  One of my hands flew to his bicep while the other tangled in his hair. If all I got was this one time to kiss him, to feel like he was mine, then I was taking advantage of every second. I kissed him back with everything I had, sliding my tongue into his mouth to trace that sensitive line behind his teeth.

  I felt his growl through the rumble of his chest, and he grabbed my ass with his free hand, lifting me against him. Maybe it was the strength in his arms, or his sheer size, but Cruz did something no other man had ever managed—he made me feel tiny, protected, cherished. Pure lust zipped through me, lighting my nerves on fire, knowing he was the only one who could put me out.

  No one else made me want like this, or feel so desperate, electric—only Cruz.

  “God, you’re so damn beautiful tonight,” he said against my mouth before kissing me again, this one deeper, slower, and infinitely more sensuous. It was an assault on all my senses, and he drew out every second, controlling each aspect of the caress. Never had the slow bite of my lower lip sent such shots of pure need through me, which was rivaled only by the leisurely, thorough way he tilted my head and kissed me like he had all the time in the world. In those few stolen, forbidden seconds I realized how badly I wanted them to be forever.

  This was a high worth chasing. He was a risk worth taking.

  My hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt as he flipped us so that he leaned against the desk with me between his outstretched legs. I rubbed against him, reveling in the power he gave over to me, the knowledge that this man had one weakness—and it was me.

  His hand slid through the slit of my dress until he gripped my thigh lightly. The brush of his thumb near the line of my thong made me arch, pushing into his grip. “More,” I begged.

  “Your skin is so soft,” he murmured as he set his mouth to my neck.

  I gasped. He may as well have found my “push here for sex” button with his damned tongue.

  My fingers trailed down the hard muscles of his chest. “Every time I see you like this, or in a shirt and tie, there’s a part of my brain that flashes to what you look like without it,” I admitted. “All gorgeous muscles and golden skin. Then I have the most ludicrous urge to strip you and lick every line of your abs. Every time I see you, Cruz. Every time.”

  “Penelope,” he groaned. “You can’t say things like that to me.”

  He took my mouth again, this time the kiss taking on an urgent tone as the beat of the music shifted outside.

  He was hard against my stomach, and if he’d moved the slightest of inches, I’d finally be able to get my hands on—

  Click.

  Lightning quick, Cruz spun us so I was against the desk, simultaneously breaking the kiss and stepping back from me until there were a few feet between us.

  “Enough with the alone time, Pennaaaaaaoly shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  I froze, my fingers gripping the edge of the desk as my eyes locked with Cruz’s, like maybe Rachel’s voice behind him didn’t actually belong to her. Maybe if we stayed just like this, she’d have T. rex vision and not really see us.

  My breath was erratic, but his was steady as he closed his eyes as if he was in pain and then opened them with a new resolve.

  My legs finally got the memo to move, and I walked around his still frame. “Hey, Rachel, what’s up?” I forced out with a grin plastered so hard to my face that it would have cracked if touched.

  Her mouth hung open. It looked like I’d accidentally managed the task no one really could—I’d shocked the hell out of Rachel. “I…um…” Her gaze flickered between us, like she couldn’t quite piece together what she’d walked in on.

  God, I hoped she couldn’t.

  “Rachel, I’m going to need just a second.”

  “Are you…?” she started.

  Cruz turned, then moved directly to my side. “Miss Dawson, if you’d wait in the hall for a moment?”

  Her eyes popped so wide I thought they might fall out. “Dr. Del…Dr. Delgado, yeah. Absolutely,” she mumbled and hurried out. I saw the outline of her head through the frosted glass as she leaned back against the door.

  “She won’t tell anyone,” I promised as Cruz put his hands behind his neck and looked at the ceiling. “It’s not like she even really saw anything.” When he didn’t respond, I drove on. “I mean, honestly, she didn’t see anything because you were over here, and I was there, so…”

  His jaw flexed a couple of times as he obviously struggled.

  “Cruz.”

  “No.” The word was harsh.

  “I know she won’t,” I said, reaching for him but thinking twice about it and letting my hand fall to the side of my dress.

  “Fuck,” he cursed, but it wasn’t directed at me, more at himself. “You have no idea what just almost happened. I could lose my job. I could lose everything. I can’t…you shouldn’t…we can never…”

  “At least look at me while you’re rejecting me,” I requested softly.

  He spun, those dark eyes pinning me in place against the desk. “Rejecting you? It’s pretty damn obvious that I’m incapable of rejecting you, even when it puts my entire future in jeopardy, so cut it with the self-deprecating language.”

  My spine straightened, and I raised my chin. “Nothing is going to happen, and even if she had seen something, Rachel won’t out us. I would bet my life on her.”

  “So you expect me to bet mine?” he seethed. His shoulders dropped, and he rubbed his hands over his stubbled jaw. “I don’t know her. Hell, I barely know you. There is no us, Penelope. There can’t be. I am your professor, you are my student, and I have worked too hard to get here to let it all crumble away because I can’t control my dick.”

  I blinked, something ugly unfurling in my belly where the warmth had been. “So it’s all about your dick?”

  “No, and that’s the issue. This”—he waved his hand between us like he could see the nearly palpable connection—“can never happen again. Ever. If that means I run in the other direction when we’re in a social setting, or we agree to never speak outside the classroom again, then so be it. It can’t happen again, Penelope,” he repeated like I was a child he needed to get through to—needed to teach.

  “You kissed me, remember?” I snapped back.

  “That was a mistake.” His eyes dropped to my mouth, and if not for the battle in
his eyes, I might have kissed him again just to prove the damn point that he wanted me—that I wasn’t a mistake. “Everything between us has been one failed lapse in judgment after another, and it ends now.”

  “You can’t end something you never started.” I tore my eyes from him, unable to look at his gorgeous face, deep brown eyes, and that mouth that was currently telling me I was all wrong for him.

  “This is for the best. I’ll be the adult here. This is never happening again,” he repeated, like he needed to say it to himself this time.

  Logically, I knew he was right, but that voice was small compared to the pissed-off one currently in control of my mouth. The clock read ten fifteen, and I laughed softly. “The good news is that it’s International Date Line day, right? Or night, I guess. We’ll cross the date line in a couple hours, and it will be February sixth all over again. Today never happened. This never happened.”

  I pushed past him and opened the door to find Rachel guarding it. “What the hell is going— Oh, Penna, are you okay?” Her tone changed the instant her eyes met mine.

  “Sure, of course.” I forced a smile. “What’s up?”

  Her gaze darted over my shoulder and back to me. “Remember that cake I told you about? Pax needs you on the staircase so you can make seven tiers worth of wishes.”

  Oh God. My birthday. The first time Brooke wouldn’t stand next to me as I blew out my candles. The first time I wouldn’t have her hugging me and telling me that the best thing about birthdays was knowing we’d always spend them together because boys walked away but blood stayed.

  “It’s your birthday?” Cruz asked from behind me.

  Cruz, who didn’t think I was worth the risk. Because I wasn’t. You didn’t spend ten years working toward a career to throw it away on the first student who crossed your path. Seriously, you were actually the first student to meet him. I almost laughed, but I couldn’t find the energy.

  I smoothed out the lines of my dress and stood straighter. “That’s none of your concern, Dr. Delgado.” Too much. There was too much going on. Cruz, the cake, the cameras… I checked the end of the hallway and, sure enough, Bobby’s cameramen were waiting.

  “Pen—”

  I shot a look over my shoulder at him. How dare he look destroyed, torn, when he’d just crumpled me up like a useless receipt from an ill-planned vacation. “You should stay in there for a few more minutes. At least until the cameras are gone.”

  Rachel held out her hand, and I nearly lost it at the gesture she never would have made when she came aboard three months ago—that’s how far our friendship had come. I took it, composing myself and nearly crushing her hand in the process, but I knew she could handle it. Rachel was hard like I was, but strong in a way I hadn’t felt in such a long time.

  I gave her a single head nod, and we walked down the hallway while I got my shit together. “Nothing happened.”

  “Yeah, okay. Because it looked like—”

  “I don’t care what it looked like. Nothing happened.” Apprehension slithered up my spine. What if she had seen something? What if it had been someone else? “You can’t tell anyone,” I whispered.

  “I thought nothing happened to tell.”

  “Not even Landon.”

  “Penna…”

  I shot her a look that said so many things. Please. Help me. You owe me.

  “Fine, but we’re talking about this later.”

  “Deal. I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday,” I whispered. “I told him that.”

  Her eyes softened. “I know. They just want to celebrate you.”

  My face twisted as it all caught up to me, and Rachel quickly stepped in front of me and took my face in her hands.

  “Say the word, and we’ll walk out the back. You owe those cameras nothing.”

  “But I owe Nick everything.” Nick, who had sat with me while I hit the ramp time and again on the snowmobile, perfecting my whip until I was good enough to stand on top of an all-male podium at the X Games.

  Nick who destroyed Brooke’s heart and then her mind.

  “Not this, you don’t.”

  “No, I can do it.” I sure as hell wasn’t going to let Cruz Delgado take anything else. “I can do it,” I repeated, stronger this time.

  She searched my eyes for a few moments, then nodded. “Then smile pretty for the cameras, Rebel, because the whole world is watching you.”

  Rachel was right. Penna needed to hide. Penelope needed to scream at Cruz. Rebel needed to step forward and lock both of those needs away and smile for the documentary.

  Dropping Rachel’s hand, I stood taller, smiled brighter, and walked by her side through the crowd while Pax called out for me on the microphone. Then I walked up the stairs, careful not to trip, and blew out the candles on the extravagant cake Pax ordered for me, all while wishing that something, anything, would go right in my life.

  We posed for pictures, the three Originals, while the staff cut the cake, and then I smiled until my face hurt.

  I did my duty for one simple reason: I was a Renegade before anything else—because there was nothing else for me.

  Chapter Nine

  Cruz

  At Sea

  What the hell had I done?

  At what point had I turned every ounce of my self-control over to my dick? Hell, at what point was I going to admit that my attraction to Penelope wasn’t just physical?

  I was so entirely fucked.

  She blew out her candles, looking every ounce X-Treme Sports Magazine’s sexiest athlete of the year—yeah, I’d googled her—while I stood against the wall, simultaneously despising myself for what I’d just let happen and reliving every second that I’d had her mouth under mine.

  It was her birthday. Her birthday, and I’d just hurt her. Sure, she’d responded with fire—I was learning to expect nothing less—but I’d seen the hurt in her eyes and immediately hated myself for putting it there.

  God, I’d been so fucking stupid. I’d nearly let us get caught, so lost in her taste, the feel of her skin under my hands, that I didn’t hear the door until it was almost too late.

  What if her friend said something? Would Penelope confirm her story? Would I lose my job—lose everything I’ve worked for?

  A couple hours later, the dateline crossed and February sixth restarted like Groundhog Day, I stood in my room, hands braced on my desk as I looked over the contents of the file I’d spread out on the surface.

  This was why I was here. This was why I’d given ten years of my life in pursuit of an opportunity just like the one that had finally fallen into my lap last week. This was why nothing else mattered.

  This was a chance I’d never get again, and it could work. Everything could fall into place as long as I planned carefully, executed perfectly, and kept the hell away from Penelope Carstairs for the next three months.

  You can’t stay away from her for a few days, and you think three months is going to happen?

  I took the glossy 5x7 and stared into soft, innocent brown eyes. She was the reason I had to stay away from Penna. I had one chance to give her the life she deserved, the one she’d already worked so hard for. I couldn’t let her end up like my mother—broken, beaten…dead.

  “I’m coming, Elisa,” I vowed to her.

  And I never broke a promise.

  …

  The sun streamed in through the windows of my classroom the next afternoon, making it feel a hell of a lot warmer than the twenty-two degrees it was outside. We’d be pulling into Dutch Harbor, Alaska, tomorrow—our first real stop since leaving Japan six days ago.

  As the class filed in, I arranged my notes, mostly to keep from looking for Penelope. Not that I needed to look for her. I’d felt her walk in. There was a subtle change to the air, a shift to my center of gravity.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take her seat, and my fingernails bit into my palms. God, if I’d only met her a year ago, or a year from now.

  Timing was a bitch.

 
; “Happy Birthday, Penna!” the Wilder kid said, presenting her with a box.

  I looked up just in time to see her say, “Seriously? I don’t want one birthday and now I have two? Like yesterday wasn’t bad enough.”

  “Just say thank you,” he said, ruffling her hair like she was three.

  The urge to smack his hand away from her head was immediate and overwhelming. She wasn’t a child, she was a full-grown woman. You’re just pissed you can’t give her a birthday present.

  Like I’d even know what to get a girl who literally had everything she could want.

  “What is this?” she asked, and I blatantly stared at the key she held, forgetting about the papers in my hand.

  “You have to agree to come with us tomorrow to find out.”

  I saw the debate play out on her face in the way her eyebrows scrunched, but then a look of yearning took over only to be consumed by a deep sigh. She was conflicted on every level a person could be, and the key seemed to be a symbol of that.

  Her complicated nature was one of the things that pulled me in. Something told me whomever Penelope chose to love would never be bored.

  “Dr. Delgado?” Macy Richardson called from the first row.

  “Yes, Macy?”

  “Are you really leading the snowshoe expedition tomorrow? I was trying to decide on a shore excursion, and I waited until the last minute.” She blinked at me, and I half expected to see words written on her eyelids like I was Indiana Jones.

  “I am,” I answered. “But don’t feel like you have to come. You’re not required to attend my excursions until we reach Mexico.”

  “Oh no, I’m sure it will be super fun!” She shot me a perky smile.

  Great.

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Penna looked up at me, and our eyes locked, a million unsaid things passing between us before her eyes iced over and she looked back at Wilder. “Yeah, I’ll come. Nothing to lose, right?”

  He grinned, and I wanted to vomit. He couldn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t making the choice out of want but out of anger at a situation he had nothing to do with.

  “You won’t regret it!” Leah, the girl behind Wilder promised.