Wilder (The Renegades)

by Rebecca Yarros

  He tasted better than I imagined, all dark chocolate and mint.

  His empty hand tunneled through my hair to the back of my head while mine wound around his neck, desperate to get closer, to take this one chance I had to not only taste but experience him. Over and over, he brought our mouths together, one moment gently sucking on my lower lip and the next sliding his tongue along mine. He’d caress my mouth gently, then plunge in possession, a blatant ownership that made my thighs clench, my stomach burn.

  The man kissed like he rode—with a single-minded focus that made everything else in the world pale in comparison—and I could only go along for the ride.

  He made me feel consumed yet empty, desperate yet sated all in one moment. Screw the sports documentary, he should make one on how to properly kiss a woman and save millions of clueless men.

  My fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders as his hands moved to my ass, squeezing and lifting me against his impossibly hard stomach with a groan. “Fuck, Leah. You have the most incredible ass,” he groaned against my mouth, sending bolts of pure, dizzying lust spiraling through me. “All soft curves and perfect in my hands.”

  I whimpered when our mouths met again, the kiss taking on an edge that had me arching against him, exploring the ridges of his teeth with my tongue before he sucked it in. In that moment I was Paxton’s, and it was glorious.

  He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against mine as his breath came in hot blasts against my swollen lips. My breathing was just as ragged. He lowered me to the ground, my belly grazing his erection. He hissed and put a few precious inches between our bodies.

  Paxton Wilder wanted me.

  That fact was just as consuming as his kiss. Imagine sleeping with him. Or don’t. No. Not yet.

  His hands were gentle on my face as he kissed me sweetly. “That’s how I wanted to kiss you, Firecracker. That’s how I plan on kissing you from now on if you tell me yes. I want this. I want you—us.”

  Say yes! Yes! Yes! My sex-starved body screamed at me, demanding I acknowledge that basic need I’d slammed in a box and shoved under my bed two years ago.

  But starting a relationship meant letting him see…everything, exposing myself in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

  “I need…” Time? To think? To jump him and test the thickness of the walls in my bedroom?

  “Okay.” He answered the demand I hadn’t made. “I can give you that. I just wanted to make sure that was the kiss keeping you company in that head of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He kissed me one last time and left me standing on the balcony, wondering what price I would pay for stealing whatever time I could with him. I knew he was a shooting star—too hot, too intense, too reckless for me.

  He’d burn me alive, then consume the ashes—the kiss had shown me that.

  But it didn’t stop me from wanting him.

  And that was the scariest part of being around him. Not what he did to me, or how he made me feel, but the way I abandoned all sense of the caution that had kept me functioning these last couple of years.

  He made me think there was a possibility I could live again outside the carefully constructed walls I’d built.

  I just wasn’t sure I could survive when he inevitably left.

  Chapter Eleven

  Leah

  Rome

  The cameras flashed in every direction, Paxton’s name called out like a rock star over the crowd. He tucked me under his arm and guided me through the crush with Landon and Penna in the lead. We had another twenty feet before we made it into the motocross park.

  “Damn it,” he seethed, but when I glanced at his face, he wore his Wilder grin, complete with putting his fist into the air.

  “Wilder!” one reporter called out.

  “He’s not taking questions,” Little John answered behind us.

  “What are you doing in Rome? Is it true you’re taking this year off? Is this in preparation for the live event you have scheduled in Abu Dhabi?” The questions fired from both aisles, conflicting with what they thought they knew.

  Live event in Abu Dhabi? What?

  If it wasn’t the questions assaulting us, it was screaming fans.

  “I thought this was supposed to be secret?” I asked.

  “Me, too,” he said, pressing a kiss into my hair.

  “Who’s your new girl?” another reporter asked.

  Not his girl, my head protested.

  Ahead of us, one of the male fans reached out and grabbed Penna. “Pax.” I motioned toward them, but before I even finished saying his name, Penna had the guy’s arm twisted behind his back.

  “Didn’t your mama ever teach you that it’s not nice to touch a woman without her permission?” she said.

  Holy shit.

  Paxton grabbed the guy and shoved him toward Little John. “Get this fucker out of here before I start an international incident.”

  We made it to the steps, where the double doors had been thrown open. Little John and the security team kept the fans off the steps, and I sucked in my first full breath since getting out of the car.

  “You okay?” Paxton asked, putting himself between me and the crowd and pressing his lips against my forehead.

  “Yeah. I guess I didn’t realize you were quite this popular.”

  “Depends on where we are,” he answered. “Wait here, okay?”

  I nodded, and he turned around to stand between Penna and Landon.

  “Nice to meet you, Rome!” Paxton called out. I knew without looking that he was wearing that devil-may-care grin.

  The crowd exploded.

  “I think we have time for a couple questions, but not much more than that. You guys have a beautiful city, and we’re anxious to get out and explore it.”

  Bobby stepped forward and pointed to one reporter. “Go.”

  “What are you doing here in Rome?”

  “Broadening our horizons,” Paxton said. “Plus Rebel here was craving pizza.”

  The reporters laughed when Penna nodded. “And we heard you guys had a crazy super ramp, so we figured we’d stop by and give it a go.”

  Bobby pointed to another reporter.

  “Any truth to this rumor of a live show in Abu Dhabi?”

  “Maybe,” Paxton answered.

  “Will you be competing at the Winter X Games?”

  Paxton tensed. “That isn’t on our schedule at the moment.”

  “Does this mean the Renegades won’t be contenders? Are you walking away? Have you given up on the quest for the triple front?” The questions fired rapidly.

  “One more.” Bobby pointed to another reporter on the side.

  “Does this have anything to do with the rumors circulating around Nitro? We can’t help but notice you’ve been one member short for a while now.”

  “We’re fucking done here,” Paxton said, spinning on his heel and walking inside, pulling me in his wake, his fingers in gentle contrast to his voice.

  “The Renegades are more than just the Originals. And you can be assured that Nitro is as much a Renegade now as he was when we started this journey. Thanks for coming out, folks!” Landon’s voice carried through into the hallway.

  “Ah! Mr. Wilder! We’re so happy to have you visiting our little track! I’m Renzo, and I manage things here,” a middle-aged man said, his English thickly accented in beautiful Italian.

  “Who the fuck let the itinerary slip?” Penna asked, crossing her arms over her bright pink tank top.

  “I’ll find out,” Bobby promised. “For now can we get our team set up, please? Little John already has your bikes ready.”

  “I can assure you that our staff kept this as quiet as possible, and of course we can lead you to your setup.” Renzo nodded, and three men stepped forward from behind him.

  “Can you take me to the stands first? I need to get Miss Baxter comfortable,” Paxton said.

  “I can find it,” I protested.

  “I’m sure you could, Firecracker, but
I’d like to know where you are.”

  Bobby’s mouth opened, and Landon stepped in. “Our schedule’s not that tight. I’m sure we’re good, right, Bobby?”

  “Right,” Bobby answered, his mouth tense.

  “Pick a good place, Leah. Brooke’s on her way,” Penna said with a smile. Then they headed off with a few of the track workers.

  Renzo led us past the snack bar and up a set of stairs until we emerged on the bleachers. “What is that?” I asked Paxton as I pointed to a giant wooden…monstrosity.

  “It’s a super ramp. We’re filming some shots here, and let’s face it, we need the practice if we’re going to pull off a live show in Abu Dhabi. It’s not like we have one of these on board.” He winked. “Relax, Firecracker, I’ll take you all the places you want to see tomorrow. I’ll even keep my sarcastic comments to myself while we listen to our prof on the Vatican tour.”

  I shook my head and pointed to the giant deathtrap in front of me. “Um…is that safe?”

  Renzo quietly excused himself.

  Paxton took my hands and lifted one to his mouth, pressing a kiss into my palm. “Nothing I do is really safe. That’s why it’s extraordinary.”

  You knew what he did. “Okay, well, I’ll pick a spot in the shade up there and study some physics. I got my ass handed to me on that quiz yesterday.”

  “I’d hardly call a B getting your ass handed to you.”

  “Well, that’s where we differ, Mr. Wilder. Besides, you never told me what you got. Do I need to be worried?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m pretty well versed in all the matters of physics…and physical matters, for what that’s worth.”

  Heat rushed my cheeks, and it wasn’t the sun. It had been three days since Barcelona, since he’d asked me to make a choice, and I still hadn’t.

  “Okay, well…go do whatever it is you do,” I said, waving him off toward the ramp of death.

  “Do I get a good-luck kiss?” he asked after checking for cameras, his hands framing my waist.

  “Paxton.” I tried to make it sound like a warning, but it came out too breathy, too wanting. For crying out loud, I couldn’t even control my own voice against this guy.

  He squeezed lightly and then groaned. “Did I ever tell you that I love this dress?”

  I shook my head. The spaghetti-strap maxi dress had been a last-minute choice, but Penna said she was going to burn all my pants if she saw me in them for the twenty-first day in a row.

  He leaned down, his mouth against the shell of my ear. “I can feel every curve under my hands, which makes me pretty damn desperate to slide this up your legs and really get my hands on you. But I won’t. You know why?”

  I shook my head.

  “Because you haven’t said yes—yet—and I’m a goddamned gentleman.”

  My fingers traced the lines of the Chinese symbol tattoos that ran up his neck, simply unable not to touch him. “Do I have to say yes to everything to get to kiss you?” I asked.

  His breath stuttered. “Do you want to say yes?”

  Our eyes met, and it would have been so easy to say it, to throw my hesitation overboard and jump. But that wasn’t me, and it didn’t matter that I was in a breezy dress under the Italian sun with the hottest extreme athlete on the planet, I was still…me. “I’m thinking about it.”

  His forehead puckered for a millisecond before he relaxed and smoothed the line of my waist. “Then I think we can take yeses on a case-by-case basis.”

  My heart pounded in anticipation.

  “Leah, would you like me to kiss you?”

  “Yes,” I answered instantly.

  Our hips met first as he drew me in. My hands slipped down the edges of his T-shirt to grasp the inked lines of his biceps. Arms like his should be modeled, sculpted, revered…or maybe just outlawed.

  “Do you want to kiss me?” I asked.

  “Hell yes,” he answered, then brushed his mouth against mine once before settling over me.

  I opened for him, and he dove in, his tongue filling my mouth while my ass filled his hands. Gentleman, indeed.

  Kissing him was addictive—the world around us faded into nothingness, and all that existed was Paxton and the way he made me feel. I kissed him back with everything I had, reveling in his groan when I gently bit his lower lip.

  He attacked again, this time taking full control of the kiss, cradling my head and angling me where he wanted, taking me off-balance so that he supported my weight. I moaned when he kissed me deeper, our tongues tangling, our breath ragged, the taste of him overwhelming every one of my senses.

  “Leah, that sound will get you fucked,” he promised, his lips skimming my jawline.

  “What happened to being a gentleman?” I asked, trying to remember where we were, or hell, even my last name.

  “Being a gentleman, I’ll make sure you’ll come first, second, even third, if you’re up for it. After that, all bets are off as to gentlemanly behavior in my bed.”

  Oh shit. Were those my panties walking away? Yup. “If I’m up for it?” I challenged, running my hands lightly through his thick hair. “You sure you could keep up?”

  He laughed, the sound incredibly sexy. “I guess it’s good for you that I keep my body at peak physical condition, isn’t it?”

  “Mmmm,” I agreed, as he nipped my earlobe.

  “Paxton! We’re waiting on you, buddy!” Bobby called up.

  Paxton groaned in my ear, and even though it was pure frustration, I couldn’t help but save the sound for a little mental playback later. “Fine!” he shouted over his shoulder.

  He kissed me softly, sucking gently on my lip before releasing it. “God, I love being able to do that. You should say yes more often.”

  Yeah, I really should. “You should go…be Wilder.”

  His eyes turned serious. “Leah, we’re trying some new stuff today. People fall. A lot of people fall. Unless you see everyone rushing the ramp, don’t let it bother you. This is what I do, what I’ve done since I was old enough to swing my leg over a Power Wheel. Don’t let the fact that it’s a motorcycle worry you, okay?”

  I swallowed. “Okay.”

  He kissed me one last time and skipped down a few steps. “Oh, and if at any time you decide it turns you on, just like…wave a red flag or something.” The way he wiggled his eyebrows had me laughing.

  “What, are you two together now?” Zoe asked, her voice dripping with equal parts sarcasm and venom. I’d been so consumed by kissing Paxton that I hadn’t even realized she’d been standing next to Bobby.

  “Yes,” Paxton answered.

  “No,” I responded at the same time.

  Paxton just grinned and ran his hands over the hair that I’d thoroughly mussed. “Well, I’m with her. She hasn’t quite decided if she’s with me yet. But I have some pretty convincing powers of persuasion.”

  “Oh my God. Just go,” I said, laughing again. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d kissed and laughed and felt…normal. A tiny stab of guilt marred the feeling but didn’t take it away completely. That was progress.

  He winked at me once and then disappeared beneath the stands. I headed for the shade of the awning near the center front row. I tucked my legs under me as I sat and opened my physics book, trying to find the correct answers for what I missed in class. I wasn’t fucking up my 4.0 on a stupid physics course.

  “It won’t last, you know,” Zoe said, taking the seat next to me and stretching her long legs out on the bar in front of us.

  I tapped my pen on the paper, debating my options on how to handle this wench, and then went for it. “How the hell do you know? And besides, I said we weren’t together.”

  She lowered her sunglasses to roll her eyes at me. “Right. First, Wilder tends to get what he wants, and given that he just publicly pawed you to mark his territory, it’s a matter of time until you fall. Second, you should know that this is as good as it’s going to get.”

  “Because it’s as good as you ever got?”
I fired back, done with her intruding on everything.

  Her shoulders drooped, and all trace of bullshit cleared from her expression. “Do you see the way he goes after a new trick? He practices so hard that nothing else matters. Everything else doesn’t exist to him until he gets it.”

  “So? I think that drive is admirable. And I’m not the type of girl to focus my life on what my boyfriend is doing.” Did you call him your boyfriend? For fuck’s sake, focus.

  A wry smile twisted her lips. “You’re missing the point. That’s how he goes after women, with that same drive. But once he nails the trick, gets the girl, the thrill is gone for him, and he’s on to his next trick, the bigger air, the faster bike…the better woman. I’m not saying this because I want to hurt your little feelings. I’m actually telling you because you don’t seem like the kind of girl who would take that well—being fucked and dumped.”

  Despite my best efforts to keep her words from touching me, my heart sank, knowing some of what she said was true. If I was going to give in to Paxton, then I had to be prepared for him to walk away…probably sooner rather than later.

  Zoe stood. “Look what you’re doing. For someone who wouldn’t focus her life on her boyfriend, you’re sitting at practice while the entire city of Rome is just over that hill.” She shrugged. “Food for thought.”

  She walked off without another glance, passing Brooke on her way.

  “Everything okay?” Brooke asked, taking Zoe’s empty seat.

  “Yeah,” I lied, nodding a little too enthusiastically.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

  “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Thirty-four D, usually 3.1 when my grades are decent, and eighteen months.”

  I blinked.

  She laughed. “Bra size, GPA, and how long since I’ve had sex.”

  “Oh, I was going in a different direction.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why do you watch the practices? Follow Penna? Why not go into Rome, or something else that you want to do?”

  She studied me for a moment. “I was there the first time Penna broke her arm on the makeshift ramp at the back of Paxton’s house. I put my arm around her and carried her home. I come because there’s honestly no place else I’d rather be. These guys are my family. Plus”—she motioned to the ramp—“the show is amazing. I love to see her fly. That’s her.”