As Lost as I Get (5 page)

Zoe mentally raised an eyebrow. Water purification tablets? They’d been out of those for months, unable to get them for love or money. When Susan finished up with the patient, Zoe caught up to her.

“Good mornin’, Lady Bountiful.” Susan gave her a grin while writing up her charts.

“Where did we get water purification tablets?”

“Same place we got everything else. Honey, what did you do to that man?” She gave Zoe an arch look. “Please tell me it wasn’t anything that’s gonna make the papers.”

“Susan!” Zoe glanced around to make sure there were no patients in earshot.

“Well, I’m just sayin’, if you’re going to take one for the team, at least the Colonel’s handsome.”

“Oh my God, I did not ‘take one for the team.’” Zoe’s face was getting hot. “How did you know it was him? Jacira didn’t.”

“I knew something Jacira didn’t know? I’m writing this in my diary.” Susan finished her chart and filed it away. “’Bout four AM, someone started banging on the clinic front door. I don’t mind telling you, I about shit myself, especially when I saw it was a bunch of soldiers. Ana went out to talk to them and I thought they were gonna shoot her or something. But no, they said they were from Vargas and they had some supplies for us.” She shook her head. “That was it. So what
did
you do?”

“Nothing,” Zoe said. “I ran into him last night and told him what was happening. He decided to help.” She shrugged. “He said he didn’t want any more of his countrymen to die.”

“Someone’s got a crush.” Susan nudged her. “You watch. I’ll bet he was trying to impress you.”

“Well. He did.”

When Zoe tried to call him later to thank him, she was only able to leave a message, so she left an effusive one. Whether or not Susan was right, having someone like him on their side could only be a good thing—especially if he had access to hard-to-find medical supplies.

Chapter Four

Even with the extra supplies, the following days were grueling. Zoe went home exhausted, not sure she could manage for another day.

Everyone on staff was feeling the stress and dealt with it in their own ways. Susan, who previously had smoked one or two cigarettes a day, had to be going through a pack each day. Maria was taking part in some epic drinking contests with some of the locals, and Zoe was pretty sure there were some furtive off-hours hook-ups happening between staff members.

Zoe understood the impulse. After a day of life and death—and lately, more death than life—sex made you feel alive and whole. She wished she wasn’t thinking about Lee quite so much. She couldn’t stop remembering his smile, or way his touch, so comforting in Oaxaca, left her discombobulated and tingling.

Some nights she came home exhausted and wishing for nothing more than the touch of another human hand. On those nights, thinking of him was the only way she could get to sleep. Lying in her narrow bed, she’d silently touch herself, thinking of his mouth on hers, wondering how it would feel to press against his body, thinking about having him inside her until she made herself come with her fingers twice, three times.

It got so bad that she started having embarrassingly detailed, erotic dreams about him. After one night of especially vivid dreams, she resolved to find a one-night stand. Something with no strings. How exactly she’d go about it, she wasn’t sure.

As she sat at the kitchen table, drinking her coffee, she heard Susan talking in her bedroom. The door opened and out came Susan in her usual state of morning dishabille. Behind her, fully dressed, was Ana.

“Mornin’,” Susan said, and Ana waved. Before Zoe could say anything, Susan and Ana kissed and murmured good-byes, then Susan came to the breakfast table alone, stopping to grab her own coffee.

“Wow. Good morning.” Zoe tried to hide her smile.

“Yes, yes it is.” Susan didn’t spare the grin, and stretched like a cat. “You’re surprised.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Oh, honey, please. We have lesbians in Texas.”

Zoe nearly choked on her coffee. “And clearly they’re bigger there too, just like everything else.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“No idea.” Zoe shook her head with a grin. “Is that serious, or shouldn’t I ask?”

Susan waved her hand and gulped some coffee. “It’s for fun. We both know it.” She fixed Zoe with a look. “And if you ask me, you could use some more fun in your life too, boss.”

“I know, I know.” Zoe stared glumly at the table. “I’m not exactly having much luck meeting people that aren’t, you know, too complicated to deal with.”

“You come with me tonight, we’ll find you someone. Guy, girl, whatever. If you go home alone, it won’t be my fault.”

“You’re absolutely terrifying.”

“Maybe,” Susan said, “but you know I’m right.”

That was how Zoe wound up in one of Inírida’s few bars. The clientele was largely foreign, aside from a few locals in military uniform. Zoe had let Susan dress her, which might have been a mistake. She wound up wearing a snug-fitting black tank top that she normally wore under other shirts, and the best pair of jeans she’d brought with her. Makeup, though, Zoe drew the line at. She did her own, with the little she’d packed. She was lucky the rain hadn’t washed it off, anyway. Her hair she’d taken to wearing in twists against the humidity, and so she just pulled the strands back and pinned them loosely at the nape of her neck. At Susan’s insistence, she wore a pair of strappy sandals she’d worn to a consulate dinner in Bogotá—she’d never expected to wear them out here. As they were getting ready to go, Susan handed her a strip of condoms. Zoe had blushed but tucked them in her purse.

She had to admit, she felt attractive, but it still took two drinks before she could actually look at the men around her to see if anyone caught her eye. It had been years since she’d had a one-night stand, and she’d never gone out intentionally seeking one. She had no idea what to look for.

Susan pulled her onto the dance floor, and between Susan’s tall, redheaded appeal and her own skimpy clothes (well, they felt skimpy anyway), they were soon the object of a lot of attention. One of the uniformed men asked for a dance and Zoe took his hand, waiting to see if there was any sort of spark.

The music changed, slow and sultry, and she let the soldier pull her into his arms and lead the dance.

“You are beautiful,” he said, in heavily accented English. “American, I think.”

Out of habit, she answered in Spanish. “American, yes.” She smiled up at him, trying to remember how to flirt. “And you’re very kind.”

“And a good accent for an American.”

She kept smiling, not bothering to tell him she’d grown up speaking as much Spanish as English.

The rhythm of the music was like slow, decadent sex, and he led her around the dance floor with just a bit of pressure to her back and the occasional press of his hips. “What should I call you? My name is Miguel.”

“Zoe.” She kept his gaze until she felt a little uncomfortable, then rested her head against his shoulder. His smile was warm and he was absolutely gorgeous, but dancing with him was like sharing a cage with a hungry lion. Rather than putting her at ease, his smile unsettled her. It didn’t reach his eyes at all. Everything about him suggested he’d be a good time for just one night, but for that prickle at the back of her neck.

When the song ended, she thanked him and tried to duck away before he could ask her anything else.

He caught her by the arm, not enough to hurt, but more than enough to stop her. “Zoe, let me buy you a drink.”

“No, thank you. I need to go. I came here with my friends . . .” Where the hell was Susan?

“Please.” Once again, his warm smile went nowhere near his eyes.

“I can’t.” She gave him a smile of her own, her heart pounding in her chest, and wrenched her arm, pulling it free. She
turned for the bar in too much of a hurry to watch where she was going, and ran into a solid chest.

“I was just coming to ask you for a dance.” Lee smiled down at her and for a single terrified moment Zoe thought she was having a hallucination, because how else could he be here, tonight of all nights?

“What—” He had to be real, because she would never have imagined him in an open-throated shirt and jeans, no matter how good they looked on him. “What are you doing here?”

“I just said. Asking you to dance.” He took a second look at her. “Are you all right?”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. Just, you know, had an overenthusiastic partner.”

He frowned, scanning the crowd as if looking for a threat, but offered her his hand. She took it without thinking, and there was the spark she’d been looking for earlier, shooting up her arm and down her spine. When he took her in his arms, she didn’t really care where he’d come from, just that he was here.

“I haven’t run into you here before,” he said. “What brings you out on a rainy night?”

The way he moved with her was so self-assured, so smooth, she didn’t have to think about where to put her feet. Tension seeped from her shoulders. “It’s been a rough couple of days. Susan decided I needed a night out.”

“The epidemic, I heard. How bad is it?” Concern was clear on his face—for her, or for her patients?

“I think we’re past the worst of it, thanks.”

“Sorry, you probably came here to get away from that.” He pulled her close and they moved together with ease, the pulsing beat carrying them along. Zoe felt as if she were floating, being carried away on a current she didn’t control.

“I’m glad you came out tonight.” Lee leaned down to murmur in her ear. “I’ve been hoping to see you again.”

She shivered and his arms tightened. There was music still playing, but she could barely hear it. This, right here and now, wasn’t about transference or anything emotional. This was about needing another human body to get lost in for a few hours, or a night. She pulled him down so she could whisper in return, “After this dance, want to get out of here?”

***

Once they were away from the noise and heat of the bar, a little bit of diffidence returned. They paused under the awning, surrounded by the faint roar of pouring rain.

“So . . . where to?” Lee hadn’t let go of her hand since they left the dance floor, and she gave him a squeeze.

“I have housemates, if that matters.” A part of Zoe’s mind was demanding to know if she was really going to do this—the rest of her mind was answering with an overwhelming yes.

“My hotel, then?”

She nodded.

They darted through the rain, laughing, then settled side by side in a moto taxi, stealing glances at each other like a pair of teenagers. By the time they were in the elevator of his hotel, Zoe couldn’t breathe for the thick tension between them. She was acutely aware of his presence; every move he made felt like it was brushing up against her skin, even when he wasn’t
touching her. When he opened the door to his room, all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears.

When he’d shut and locked the door behind them, he turned to her. “Zoe—”

She put a finger to his lips and shook her head, so instead he kissed her finger. The tip of his tongue barely flickered against her skin, but it was enough to send a jolt through her body, to make her gasp. Before she could think further, she curled the fingers of her other hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down. His mouth on hers made sharp want surge through her, so sharp it was almost painful. He felt it too, he had to—he nearly lifted her off the ground from holding her so tight. She whimpered and opened her mouth to him, begging him to come inside. They hadn’t kissed on the dance floor, and this was why. If they’d started, it wouldn’t have ended until they were both naked and spent. Everything they’d been through had led to this; it seemed inevitable.

Lee’s fingers brushed over her hair while his other hand stroked up and down her back, dipping lower with each pass. One of Zoe’s hands rested at his waist, but that wasn’t enough. She pulled at his shirt, tugging the end out of his jeans and slipping her fingers beneath. His skin was warm and smooth, the muscles firm and tense. He groaned into her mouth and his hands slid down together to cup her ass, pulling her tight against his body, grinding his hips against her. She fought the urge to pull herself up and wrap her legs around his waist, needing to feel him even closer, wanting to feel that hardness teasing between her legs.

He picked her up anyway, and laid her down on the bed. Rather than following after, he drew away and picked up one of her feet. His fingertips were featherlight as they traced over the straps of her sandals, unfastening them and pulling the shoe away. She moaned as his thumbs pressed into her instep. There was no way that should feel so arousing, but it made her want to writhe and squirm as he massaged away the tension. He repeated the process with her other shoe, and by the time he was finished, she
was
writhing against the bedspread. When he let go of her foot, she rolled onto her knees and knelt facing him. The bed had a high platform, and kneeling on it she was closer to his height than she was standing. They kissed again, sharper this time, more desperate. Zoe untucked his shirt entirely and couldn’t stop stroking her hands up and down the warm skin of his back and sides. The tips of his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans in the small of her back. Just the feel of his fingertips, barely against her skin, curling above her buttocks, was enough to make her moan with need. They were still fully clothed, and she already felt as if she’d die if he didn’t take her right then.

His mouth left hers to trail down her neck, hot and wet. He lapped at her pulse and curled one of his hands up her side, resting on her ribcage just beneath her breast, his thumb barely brushing the bottom curve. She sighed, and his thumb slipped higher, hand slowly dragging upward until he was cupping her breast. Her nipples were tight and tingling, more than ready for this touch, but he avoided them, apparently content just to feel the weight of her breast in his palm. He licked and nipped down her neck, paying special attention to the dip of her collarbone. Just as his thumb made one bold swipe over the hard, sensitive peak of her nipple, he moved his other hand to the straps of her tank top and bra, pushing both down her shoulder, his mouth following after.

For her part, all Zoe could do was hang on to him, her body heavy and heated with desire. “Please.”

He drew away from her, big warm hands stroking her upper arms. The way he looked at her made her forget to breathe, the hunger in his eyes urging her to spread out for him and let him take his fill. “Take off your shirt,” he said hoarsely. Before she could, he stepped back and stripped off his own, revealing the smooth planes of skin and muscle. She wanted to tease him, inching her shirt slowly upward, pausing just before she uncovered her bra, smiling at him.

“I’ll do it for you, if you want,” he growled. The sudden image of him tearing away the shirt was tempting, but then what would she wear home? She pulled the tank top up and off. It hadn’t hit the floor before his arms were around her again, pressing them skin to skin but for the scrap of black silk covering her breasts. He trailed his fingers over the edges of her bra, as if he were savoring the texture, or trying to find a way in. This time his kisses dipped lower, covering the tops of her breasts while his hands cupped them, held them up for his mouth.

Zoe couldn’t stop the sounds she was making, and when his tongue finally flickered over one silk-covered peak, she wanted to scream in equal parts pleasure and frustration. He teased her with his lips and teeth through the silk even as he reached back and undid the clasp. He pulled away the bra as he lowered her to the bed, and this time he followed.

He kissed her mouth before returning to her breasts. “Zoe, ah, God,” he murmured against her skin. “So beautiful.” He reached up blindly to touch her face, and she caught his hand in hers, bringing it to her mouth so she could lick and suck at his index finger. He grunted, then nipped at her breast a little harder than before, sending a combined jolt of pleasure and pain through her.