How to Ruin Series Part 85

"Let me weigh the options. Option 1: Go back to the base, not have a second of private time with you, get up at the crack of dawn, or Option 2: Private time alone with you. It's a no-brainer, Avi. I pick private time alone with you."

I think of Avi and me together ... all night ... in a hotel room. The word "perfection" doesn't do the fantasy justice.

"You're not still feeling super mischievous, are you?" he asks. "Because if you are, this probably i s n't the best idea."

I can't wait to spend all night, alone, with my boyfriend. "Trust me, Avi. It's a great idea. Seriously, when are we going to have the chance to be alone again?"

He picks up his cell, makes a reservation at a hotel, and starts driving.

Soon we arrive at a hotel on a kibbutz near Ein Gedi.

Avi pays for the room, signs papers, and gets a key from the girl at the front desk. I stand beside him, trying to act like getting a hotel room with my boyfriend is no biggie.

When in reality ...

It is a biggie. A real big biggie.

Avi takes our bags and I follow him to our room. It's at the end of an adorable little one-story brick building with bright purple and yellow flowers outlining the front sidewalk. Avi opens the door and we walk inside.

When the door clicks shut, the reality of being alone with Avi hits me. I'm with my boyfriend without any parental supervision. I'm almost a senior in high school, almost an adult ... in a year I'll be living on some college campus by myself, making decisions on my own.

I would never have put myself in the position of being alone with a boy in a hotel room if I didn't 100 percent trust him.

I know Avi won't force me to do anything I don't want to do. The problem lies with me: I don't know if I trust myself. I admit, when I look at Avi I want him; I want him to kiss me until I can't breathe and touch me until my body melts under his touch, and I want to feel every inch of him. Will I be able to stop myself?

There are two single beds on either side of the room. They're just simple foam- filled mattresses on wooden frames that don't look very comfortable (which my parents would probably think is a good thing).

"You seem nervous," he says as he puts our bags down by the little desk. There's a chill in the air, so Avi turns off the air conditioner.

"Why do you think I'm nervous?" I look at him and remember our talk in the car about him wanting to have s.e.x with me.

"Because you haven't said anything since we arrived."

I take a deep breath and watch intently as Avi steps closer to me. His boyish expression gives me a hint that he's just as nervous and insecure as I am.

"I'm not nervous. Really. I'm not," I say.

One side of his mouth quirks up into a smile. He doesn't believe me at all. "You want to go change in the bathroom?"

Change? As in getting in PJs?

"Sure," I say. Normally this wouldn't be a problem. This isn't the first time Avi's seen me in PJs, but this isn't just any normal ordinary night. I don't want to wear a big ol' T-s.h.i.+rt to bed. But I don't want to go all s.e.xy, wearing a skimpy tank top to tease him. Okay, I admit I kinda do, so I can see how much I can affect him, but I realize that's totally selfish and manipulative.

Oh, the problems of a teenage girl are endless.

I pull out a PJ set my mom got me for the trip. It's a light blue T-s.h.i.+rt and matching mini-shorts. It covers enough so I'm not showing too much cleave, but when I take my bra off in the bathroom I'm aware that the chill in the desert air is making me nippy. Over the sink there's a mirror, so I pull up my bangs to inspect George I. He's almost gone-yeah!

When I leave the bathroom, I'm holding the clothes I've worn all day clutched in front of my nippyness. Avi is sitting on one of the beds. He looks up and his breath hitches.

"You're beautiful," he says, staring at me as if I'm a G.o.ddess.

A shy smile bursts out of me. "Thanks."

I look back at the bathroom. "Don't you want to, uh, wash up?"

"Yeah." But I notice he doesn't bring any PJs with him into the bathroom. I quickly toss my dirty clothes on top of my suitcase, pull out my pink satin pillow, and hop onto one of the beds. Pulling the thin sheet and blanket above my nippy parts, I wonder what Avi will sleep in. When he comes out of the bathroom, I finally know.

My mouth drops open and I swear I have to stop myself from drooling. Avi is wearing black boxer briefs. That's it. His military-ripped bod should be outlawed.

He's got a serious six-pack and has muscles in places I didn't even know existed. And when my eyes wander to the bulge in his briefs, I can't help the blush that creeps into my face.

And I was worried about teasing him.

Believe me, I'm not the teaser in this room.

"You are seriously trying to tempt me, aren't you?"

He nods.

I reluctantly tear my gaze away. "Well, good night," I say, patting my pillow and pulling the covers over me. "Turn out the light before you go to sleep, will ya?"

That'll teach him to try and tease me.

But a minute after I pretend to go to sleep, I pop one eye open. He's still standing by the bathroom door looking every bit a hard-core male model with a body to die for ... or at least to lose your virginity over. Knowing the guy inside the body is my one true love makes this situation almost unbearable.

"Can I at least push the beds together?"

he asks sheepishly.

"I thought you were going to do it while I was in the bathroom. And then I thought since you didn't, maybe you wanted to sleep separately."

"I didn't want to push the beds together without asking you first. And then you came out here in that s.e.xy outfit and I forgot all about it."

"It's not s.e.xy," I tell him. "It's just a top and shorts."

"Amy, that's just about the s.e.xiest thing I've ever seen on anyone. Maybe it's because it matches your eyes. Maybe it's because it's got lace around the edges. Or maybe it's just because you're wearing it."

He looks down, embarra.s.sed, as he pushes the beds together.

Since the frames are made of wood, there's a huge wooden gap between the mattresses. Avi folds one of the sheets into the groove and puts a blanket over it so it won't be too uncomfortable.

"What's this?" I ask, fingering the three- inch-long, olive green pouch hanging from a string around his neck.

He opens the pouch and reveals a silver metal rectangle stamped with words in Hebrew and a long number. "My ID tag.

We cover it so the metal doesn't burn our skin in the heat."

There's a gold metal medallion hanging next to the ID tag. "What's that?"

He fingers the medallion. "All Sayeret Tzefa trainees get it. It has the words Respect, Strength, and Honor on it.

Respect for your country, your enemies, and your comrades. Strength in body and mind. Honor to your country, your comrades, and the ones who served before you." He says it like he's had to rehea.r.s.e the words for some test.

"Does everyone wear it?"

"If you're caught without it, you have to sing this stupid song to the entire squad.

It's a new tradition. I think it was copied from some American Marines that did training here a few years back."

While I lie back on my pillow, Avi turns off the light.

A few seconds later I feel him sliding into bed next to me. His leg brushes mine and I hear his slow breathing. A sliver of light is s.h.i.+ning through the window of the room, so I can make out his silhouette in the darkness. My heart is beating furiously with antic.i.p.ation, especially when he turns toward me.

"Amy?"

"Yeah."

He leans on his elbow and stares down at me. "I didn't tell you this before, but I think you've been a great leader on the base."

"You're just saying that because you love me."

"I do love you. But that's not why I said it. People listen to you."

"Me? Yeah, right. It's a wonder I haven't been kicked out of the program."

"You sell yourself short. Every time your team is standing around looking for some direction, you come up with a strategy. Like suggesting taking turns with the ditch digging. And suggesting people kneel on the ground during the monkey bars on the obstacle course. Whether you believe it or not, you're a born leader."

I guess I never thought about that before.

I reach up and cup his cheek. "How come you can see the good parts of me I don't even see in myself?"

"Because you're too busy focusing on negative stuff. You should stop doing that."

"I've been trying. It's kinda hard for me." I lean forward, put my hand on his bare chest, and kiss him. "I'm what you call a work in progress."

"That makes two of us." He puts his arms around me. We kiss. And kiss again.

His lips are soft on mine. When he deepens the kiss and his tongue reaches for mine, the tingling sensation zings right down to my toes and back up again. I could kiss this boy forever. His kisses make me as hot as my flat iron, and I toss the covers away.

My fingers trail paths around his body and his do the same. All the while, our breathing is getting faster and my pulse is racing in excitement. Our legs are intertwined, skin against skin.

I feel Avi's pulse racing too, as my palm explores his chest and abs.

Being close to Avi, his body against mine, is the best feeling in the world. It's better than eating spicy tuna sus.h.i.+ rolls with little pieces of crunchy tempura inside, better than drinking hot chocolate with loads of whipped cream, better than winning a tennis match.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks as I moan under his touch.

"Sus.h.i.+, hot chocolate, and tennis."

"You're thinking about food? And tennis?"

He pulls away, but I take his hand in mine and weave my fingers through his.

"No. I'm thinking about how being with you is better than sus.h.i.+, hot chocolate, and tennis. What were you thinking about?"

A short laugh escapes from his mouth.

"It sure wasn't hummus, falafel, and soccer."

I open my fingers so we're palm against palm. "Avi, what if we get carried away tonight?"

"We won't."

"But what if I want to? My mom bought me protection before I left, just in case. It's in one of my suitcases."

Avi takes a deep breath and leans away from me, the cool air rus.h.i.+ng to the open s.p.a.ce between us. I want to pull him back so his body heats mine again. Instead, I grab the covers and pull them over us. I don't know if I'm s.h.i.+vering from nervousness or the chilly night air.

"I'm not gonna lie to you," he says seriously. "I'm ready. Like right now, I'm ready."

"I think I am, too."

"Your body might be, but I know in the morning you'll regret it. And then I'll feel like c.r.a.p because I knew you'd regret it."

He rubs his hands over his head and moans in frustration. "You said a while back that you wanted to wait until we got married. I promised to respect that."

"I changed my mind."

"What?"

"You heard me. I changed my mind."

"Amy, you hated that you were an illegitimate child. It eats at you every day, and I think sometimes it fuels this insecurity you have. What if it happens to us? You'll never forgive yourself. Or me."

"Can you not be logical now, Avi?

You're kind of ruining the mood." I sit up, thinking how right Avi is and how wrong I am. How can I let my overactive hormones rule my life? Though I must say it's kind of easy when Avi's expert fingers are strumming my body like a guitar. "Avi?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not tired anymore. Are you?"

He shakes his head.

"We can still kiss and do other things, can't we? Remember at my house on the sofa, when my dad was working late? Can we try that again?"

Seriously, it's not like Avi and I haven't fooled around. We have. In fact, I've gone farther with Avi than with any other boy I've dated.

Avi's hands circle my waist and he guides me on top of him. My long hair s.h.i.+elds his face as I look down at him.