Rebel rises up, staring down at me with a self-satisfied smirk. The entire lower half of his face glistens and I feel my cheeks heat. “Eating you wasn’t on the menu, but I’ll be damned if it’s not the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”
“Mmmm.” I smile softly, my head still foggy. “Imagine waking up to this every day.”
He tilts his head and the look on his face is difficult to read. Finally, he slaps his hand against the outside of my thigh, shocking the hell out of me. “Time for a shower,” he declares as he climbs off the bed.
Throwing my arm over my eyes, I moan my complaint. After that mind-melting orgasm, the only thing I want to do is sleep for a year.
“Get up and get in this shower, Josephine,” Rebel calls from the bathroom. I moan again and the next time he speaks, Rebel’s voice is closer. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Throwing my arm down, I peel my eyes open and I peer up at his imposing form. Standing in the doorway, he’s completely nude, every hard muscle on full display. A smile slides into place and I lift a careless brow in silent challenge—a challenge that Rebel wastes no time answering.
Turns out I like the hard way.
TWENTY-ONE
We’re not going back to the Donnelly’s. Instead, Rebel announces that we’re going to spend the rest of the day alone together before flying back home in the morning. He’s taking me exploring, starting with a little mom and pop restaurant that serves old and new world Hungarian dishes.
“This chicken is to die for,” I say, offering him a bite of perfectly seasoned meat. Rebel leans across the table and takes my fork into his mouth. My gaze fixes on those delicious lips as he chews, and I can’t help thinking about how he used them on me this morning. It gives me shivers and a sudden urge to repeat the act.
“These fried pickles are the best in the state.” He picks one from the basket in front of him, dips it in ranch dressing, and offers it to me. I take his fingers into my mouth along with the pickle, and his eyes darken with desire. “Careful or I might decide to give you another tour of the men’s room.”
I hum thoughtfully as I chew the warm, crisp pickle. He’s right. It’s the most delicious pickle I’ve ever tasted. Addressing his comment, I tell him, “I haven’t been to the bathroom in this one yet. I wonder if the wall is as cool and hard as the one at Mirage.” Winking flirtatiously, I ask, “Wanna go find out?”
Rebel shakes his head, smiling to himself as he fishes another fried pickle slice from the basket. “I’ve created a monster.”
“No refunds,” I warn him. “And if you even think of dropping me off in the country like a stray cat, I’ll have you know I have a very good sense of direction.”
Rebel’s head cants to one side. “Did you just compare yourself to an animal?”
Well, he certainly makes me feel like one sometimes. I’m flushed with heat just watching him eat. Shrugging the question off, I turn my attention back to my food.
Once my plate is empty, I push it away and lean back, folding my hands in my lap. “So what are we doing today? Hiking? Bike riding through the park? Breaking in a few bathroom walls?”
Wiping his mouth and fingers on a napkin, Rebel takes a drink of his water before answering. “I think we’ll save the walls of the hotel,” he says to my great disappointment. “I had something a little more exciting in mind.”
Intrigued, I push my chair away from the table and stand. “Then what are we still sitting around here for? Check please!”
***
“Rebel!”
He slams into me from behind, jolting my entire body forward, and I laugh hysterically.
“What are you complaining about? I thought you said not to hold back.” Rebel’s voice carries over the roar of the engine. He’s enjoying this a little too much. When I told him not to hold back, I didn’t think he’d take it so literally. If he keeps it up, I’m going to need the help of a chiropractor to straighten out my spine when we get home.
Pressing my foot down on the pedal, I floor it, sending the go-kart racing down the track. The finish line is in sight, but Rebel is hot on my tail. He’s been playing so far, toying with me, allowing me to keep the lead. But I know him, and he’s not about to let me win just because I’m a girl, or his lover, or whatever.
Rebel is all about the control, always in it to win, but today, so am I. He’s going to take this win over my dead body. At the rate things are going, it’s a definite possibility that’s how this day will end.
With the checkered flag waving in the distance, Rebel gives up trying to readjust my spinal column and pulls up alongside me. Determination is etched in the lines on his face, and he gives me a wicked smile that says he thinks he’s got this in the bag.
What he doesn’t realize is that I’ve been holding back. He might have been right this morning when he said he’d only given me a sense of control when he allowed me to tie him to the bed, but I’m definitely calling the shots now. He thinks he’s going to win? Anyone who’s seen me drive would know different. Annie would laugh in his smug face because the hard truth is, this is one instance that Rebel is going to come up short.
I wait for my chance. As the finish line draws closer, Rebel gives me a two-finger salute and pulls ahead. He thinks he’s winning, and I let him feel that victory—let those good feelings soak in for a few more seconds—before I force the gas pedal all the way down. It’s only a couple extra miles per hour, but I shoot forward.
Rebel jerks his head around when he catches sight of me pulling even with his kart. Showing all my teeth, I throw up a one-finger salute and then laugh maniacally as I push past him, crossing the finish line and taking the win with less than a second to spare.
I admit that I’m a bad winner. Jumping from the kart, I throw my hands in the air and shake my hips, performing a victory dance that probably makes me look ridiculous.
“You little shit!” Rebel shouts as we climb out of our karts.
Handing my helmet off to the guy manning the track, I grin as I walk toward him with my arms outstretched. “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t handle losing to a girl?”
Rebel isn’t the least bit pissed off, which is such a refreshing change from his usual brooding self—and, holy cow, what a turn on. This man has a fantastic smile. His feet eat up the pavement as he strides toward me. Idly, I think to myself that jeans were made with him in mind. His are light blue that are just tight enough to stick to everything. My tongue swipes across my bottom lip to check for drool.
“You just bought yourself an ass whooping,” he growls, closing the last few feet standing between us. Bending at the knees, he wraps his arms around my waist and jerks me off my feet.
I throw my arms around his neck as he crushes me to his chest and grin down at him. “That’s not much of a threat, Scott. You’re going to have to do way better than that if you want me to pretend not to be so outrageously awesome.”
“My, someone certainly thinks highly of themselves.” Although his smile remains in place, I see the seriousness filter into his eyes. “You don’t have to dumb anything down with me, Josephine. I like a woman who isn’t afraid of a challenge.”
Suddenly, the moment morphs into more than just a playful exchange of words. Rebel is giving me a rare glimpse into what’s going on inside his head and I’d be just plain dumb not to listen up. He’s just told me that he likes me the way I am, which is beyond amazing. I can hardly process the thought, I’m so damn happy.
Combing my fingers through his hair, I lean my head down to kiss him softly. “You’re my biggest challenge yet.”
“Wouldn’t be much fun if I just let you catch me, now would it?” he teases.
“Hey, isn’t the girl supposed to be the one saying that?”
Returning me to my feet, Rebel slips his hand into mine and takes us back outside to the waiting cab without comment.
I still can’t believe he paid the guy to wait for us. The fare has to be crazy expensive, but Rebel doesn’t even blink an eyelash as he tells the driver to take us to the next location.
We spend the majority of the day driving around Maine, winding through neighborhoods with some of the most gorgeous houses I’ve ever laid eyes on. I point out all my favorite ones, which seems to amuse Rebel.
We don’t talk much, but the quiet is comfortable. We’re simply enjoying being in each other’s space, sharing experiences. It’s the truest connection I’ve had with anyone since Annie and Brody came into my life. If for some reason Rebel and I don’t last, I know for certain that I will never look back on the time we’ve shared with regret. He’s an amazing man, and I feel lucky to have met him.
When we reach the hotel, it’s late. I cling to Rebel as we ride the elevator up to our floor, more at ease with him than I have ever been. The difference between our relationship six months ago and today is like night and day. Back then, there’s no way he would have allowed this kind of physical connection, let alone let it happen in full public view. It would have been the kiss of death, but now, he accepts it without the slightest flinch of disapproval.
This whole trip feels like a major stepping stone in our relationship. I still don’t know a lot about this man, but with each layer I peel back, I like Rebel more. I’m happy, and what’s more? I’m confident in my choice. Rebel’s a gamble, but sometimes you have to go with your gut and place the damn bet.
Once we’re back in the room, Rebel and I face each other and undress in silence. My gaze travels the entire length of him, lingering on his sculpted chest and the fine, dark hairs dusting it. His stomach clenches as I go lower, and I lick my lips as I watch his cock swell before my eyes.
Something about tonight feels different. I don’t know what it is, but it’s in the air. There’s been a shift, something that only appeals to the senses, and it hinges on this very moment. I know what it is as soon as I scoot to the center of the bed and Rebel stretches out on top of me.
It’s in his expression, lingering in his eyes as he touches me with the gentlest caress. It’s echoed in the way my breath catches as he kisses me, each one more tender than the last. The reverence he shows me as he makes love to my body says everything that needs to be said, but without words. It reinforces what I’ve already come to know: Rebel’s it. He’s the man for me. And I think he just might feel the same about me.