Brat (5 page)

“This path doesn’t look very well used,” I mumbled as I followed Chase. He pushed low-hanging vines and branches aside, clearing a better path, but I could tell not many people opted to come this way.

“It’s not,” he said, “but that’s the best part. This is where all the good stuff is. The tours are nice and the guides know their stuff, but there’s nothing like going off the beaten path.”

I studied the back of his head as we walked, intrigued. “Wow, you really are nuts. You know, paths are there for a reason. They tell you where to go so you can avoid getting eaten by a jaguar.”

Chase paused and turned to face me with a boyish grin—one I’m willing to bet has melted more than its fair share of panties. “True,” he said. “But then, someone has to be the first, right? Come on, you’ll like this. I bet you’re hungry. It’s about lunch time, isn’t it?”

I ran a hand over my stomach, thinking idly that I wished I had eaten more than the fruit, yogurt, and granola parfait I ordered at breakfast. “Sure, I could eat. What are we going to do, skin a monkey?” I laughed, but then choked on it when Chase shot me a dirty look over his shoulder. “Oh, right, I forgot. Nothing with a face.”

We came to a clearing where the trees opened up a bit, revealing a deep pool with water so clear I could see down to the bottom. A rocky ledge rose up on one side, and a cascading waterfall ran down it and into the pool, which was surrounded by flowering plants in a burst of bright oranges, pinks, and purples. My eyes widened, and my jaw dropped. From the corner of my eye, I could see Chase’s smug grin as he took in my reaction.

“See this vine, here?” he asked, reaching for a twisting, green mass of vines, leaves, and beautiful purple blossoms. I nodded, coming closer as he plucked one of the blooms from the vine. “This is purple passion fruit.” He handed me the blossom and pointed to a cluster of plump plum-colored fruit hanging from the vine beneath more of the flowers. “It’s really sweet, and one of the many edible plants around here.”

Plucking a handful, he held them out to me, and I reluctantly took one. “Is it safe to eat right off the vine like that?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I eyed the fruit suspiciously.

Chase laughed and brought one to his lips. “Probably safer than the pesticide-coated crap they sell at the grocery store.” He bit into the skin, causing a bit of the juice to spurt out and land on my cheek. Before I could wipe it away, he reached up and swiped at it with his thumb, his fingers light on my jawline, causing an undeniable case of the tingles. He brought his thumb to his lips, causing my own to part as his tongue flicked out to lap at the droplet. Chase caught me staring, and his gaze locked on mine, the eyelids lowering sensually over those dreamy green eyes of his. “Try it,” he said, his hand grasping my wrist and lifting it up between us … reminding me that I was still holding the passion fruit while staring at him like an idiot.

Blinking rapidly, I obeyed, faintly aware that Chase’s fingers were still wrapped lightly around my wrist. He was right, the passion fruit was to die for, sweet and tender beneath the firm skin. “Wow,” I said after chewing and swallowing. “That is good.”

Chase let go of my wrist and deposited more of the little fruits into my palm. “That’s not all,” he said, turning away abruptly. Grasping a low hanging branch, he braced his foot on the trunk and began to climb.

Craning my neck up to watch, I called to him, “Hey, what are you doing?”

Either he didn’t hear me, or he chose not to respond, because Chase just kept climbing, his long arms and legs propelling him steadily upward. I popped another passion fruit and chewed, watching him warily. He paused a few feet up and reached out, plucking something brown, oblong, and fuzzy from one of the branches. When he dropped back to the ground, he held it out to me proudly.

“Coconut?” I asked, frowning at the hairy thing.

“Close,” he answered. “This is cupuacu. Very similar to the coconut, but I personally like it better.”

Striding over to a large boulder, he bashed the cupuacu against it, splitting it in half. Handing me one of the halves, he made his way over to the edge of the water and sank down onto the grass, cross-legged. I joined him, watching as he dipped his fingers into the shell, pulling away the white pulp. The smell of it was tempting, like a combination of chocolate and pineapple, causing my stomach to rumble. I was too hungry to care about not having a fork or spoon.

“Well, when in Rome,” I murmured, before digging in with my fingers. “So,” I asked between bites, “what are you studying at Texas A&M that has you hanging out in a rainforest during your summer vacation?”

“I’m in the Biology graduate program,” he answered. “I graduated with my Bachelor’s last year, with a minor in Chemistry. The trip out here is part of a summer abroad program. A lot of other students chose to go places where they could party and drink while fitting in trips to museums so they can say they got exposed to some culture over the summer.”

“No partying and drinking for you, huh?”

He shrugged, lifting the shell of the cupuacu to take a swig of the juice pooled at the bottom. I tried it as well, surprised to find it tasted kind of like pear with a hint of banana. Note to self, find out if it’s possible to grow a cupuacu tree in Texas.

“I like a good drink as much as the next guy, and don’t mind parties, but this is important, being here and seeing it all firsthand. The rainforests are dying … no, they’re being murdered by corporate greed and ambition. Slashing and burning of the rainforests is already having a huge effect on the world, and it’s only going to continue to get worse if people don’t wake up. Carbon cycling, endangered animals, plants that have the ability to cure diseases … they’re all going to be lost if someone doesn’t do something.” He blushed sheepishly and lowered his head. “Sorry, sometimes I get caught up and start rambling.”

“No, that’s cool,” I said quickly, honestly meaning it. “You’re passionate about the environment, I respect that.”

He smirked. “What are you passionate about, princess?”

“Fashion,” I said without batting an eyelash. “Fashion and journalism.”

A dark brown eyebrow shot up at that. “So, I guess it’s safe to say I should expect to see you on the E! Network someday with Joan Rivers, making fun of horrible celebrity outfits.”

I scowled. “If that’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of fashion, then you’re clueless,” I said with a snort. “And it says a lot about what you think of me.”

Chase sighed. “Look, don’t take it personal, it just seems like such a waste of time worrying about what people are wearing and where they got it from. There are so many more important things in the world to spend your time and energy on.”

Scoffing in annoyance, I stood, unsure of why I even cared what Chase thought of me. I certainly have never cared before about a guy’s opinion. “Right, and while you and the other tree huggers are out there saving the world I suppose you plan to do so naked? Someone has to design and make cargo shorts and tank tops. And by the way, going green in fashion is actually a big thing right now—sustainable energy, environmentally friendly production, fabrics made of recycled materials. You’re not the only one who cares about the world, Chase.”

He stood to face me, hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Geez, I didn’t mean anything by it. I said don’t take it personal.”

“It’s kind of hard not to. What if I were to say something like: who cares about animals when there are starving children—people—in the world who deserve way more of our time and energy?”

Chase frowned. “Oh, thems fightin’ words, princess.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “Exactly.”

He nodded, his unruly curls bobbing. “Okay, point taken. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, okay? I guess, I just don’t get what the fuss is about when it comes to clothes. I mean, you’ve got your hair all pressed, that crap on your nails, and that goop on your face, for what? To impress some guy?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? Girls don’t dress to impress guys, we dress to impress other girls! Clothes are about expression and showing people who you are with an outward display.”

“Looking at you, I see a pampered little Southern belle with way too much time on her hands and piss pots of money at her disposal.”

I grinned, not at all insulted. “See, it works.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I’m a guy who prefers things the way God made them. You’re a beautiful girl, Chloe, but I bet you’re just as stunning without all the makeup and hair and whatnot. It would just be a shame if you thought you needed that stuff to be attractive.”

Stunned, I could only stare at him, open-mouthed. After a few seconds, his fingers came up to my chin, pushing it up to close my mouth. With a chuckle, he turned away and started pulling his shirt off over his head.

“Um … what are you doing?”

“It’s humid out today,” he remarked, bending down to untie his hiking boots. “I think a swim is in order. You game?”

Edging toward the pool, I peered over the edge warily. “Do I need to worry about some rainforest river monster nibbling at my toes?”

“A few fish, but nothing carnivorous,” he remarked. “Come on, I can see the straps of your bathing suit, so I know you’re ready to swim. The water isn’t salty, so you can open your eyes and see the bottom. It’s beautiful down there.”

Biting my lower lip, I cautiously edged away from the water before bending down to untie my Timberlands. “Okay, but if anything tries to eat me, I’m going to kick your ass.”

A splash was my only response, and I quickly doffed my tank top, revealing the black string bikini top I was wearing underneath. My hands were on the button of my shorts when I realized that Chase hadn’t surfaced after jumping into the water. Worried that he might have hit his head on a rock or something, I dashed toward the pool. The water lapped at my feet as I searched for Chase, worry growing with each passing second.

That was when something grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me beneath the surface.

“Okay, that was so not cool!”

Chase’s laughter rang out over the water as he surfaced, pushing strands of sopping wet hair out of his eyes. I glared at him as I trudged back toward the water’s edge.

“Oh, lighten up, you were coming in any way!” he called out.

“Not with these on,” I griped, indicating my shorts. “These are Calvin Klein!”

That only caused him to laugh harder as he left the water as well, coming toward me clutching his middle, his shoulders trembling. “It’s just fabric, princess. It gets just as wet in the washing machine.”

Turning toward him, I flipped my wet hair over my shoulder and speared him with a blazing glare. “You are a sick, twisted person.”

Chase’s arm came around my waist and yanked me up against him, causing the rants to die on my lips. Amusement turned to something else as he lowered his head toward mine, the seductive pools of his green eyes smoldering beneath the drooped eyelids and fan o
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lashes. His breath was a warm caress against my cheek, his lips whispering over my jaw and toward my mouth. My lips parted, my breath racing and mingling with his as his open mouth caressed mine. Tingles traveled over the surface of my skin, spreading from my lips, and working their way down my neck. His hands were possessive, his grip tight on my waist as he pulled my body flush up against his. Tremors of awareness traveled through me as the hardness of his body met the soft curves of mine. My breasts responded to the closeness of his chest, becoming heavy and full, the nipples hardening and begging for his touch.

When our lips met, I reached up and held on to his shoulders, using him as an anchor. As it was, my knees were weak and my legs rapidly turning to jelly. His tongue probed for entrance, and I met it with mine, the velvety rasp causing a low groan to work its way up from the back of my throat. Chase’s arms tightened around me, his hips grinding into mine as our lips dueled. I’ve kissed a lot of guys, but damn if this wasn’t the hottest kiss I’d ever experienced. His lips were firm and sure, insistent without being aggressive, and just the right amount of tongue without being sloppy. He tasted like passion fruit and cupuacu, which only made me want to keep kissing him. When he pulled away, we were both panting, our chests heaving against each other’s as his bedroom eyes met my wide ones.

What the hell just happened?

As if reading my thoughts, Chase grinned. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time you yelled at me in the grottos.”

“I thought you hated me!” I replied, shocked.

Chase shrugged. “Ever hear of that really thin line? I think we’ve been dancing on the edge of that since the second we met.”

I pulled away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Is that why you brought me out here? Did you think you could pull me over that line and get into my pants?” I had to do something, say something, to break the spell he was casting over me. Right then, it was taking everything I had not to launch myself into his arms and scream, ‘Take me now!’

Chase came closer to me, his thumb caressing my parted lips. My breath hitched in my throat. “I want you … badly, and that’s the truth, but it’s not why I brought you out here. I meant what I said about wanting another opportunity to show you how beautiful this place really is. I know you’re here for the resort, the spa, and the shopping, but you can do that anywhere. Where else can you eat passion fruit straight off the vine, or go swimming in a secluded lagoon?”