As Lost as I Get (6 page)

“Too much,” she said. He pulled his hand from her mouth and raised up to kiss her, their mouths slanting open and eager against each other while he stroked her hips, thumbs running over the crease of her thigh, so close to where she needed him, but not close enough. She was already hot and wet for him, and the swell of her lips inside her jeans was driving her mad. “Yes,” she gasped. “Lee, please. Please, yes.” His thumb stroked up the center of her and she arched into it greedily, parting her thighs.

“I can feel how hot you are.” He sounded awed. Then he tugged open her jeans and started to push them down without his mouth leaving hers. She lifted her hips and tried to help, then gave up and pushed him away so she could take them off herself, panties and all. His gaze roamed over her naked body as he knelt above her. She could see the shape of his erection through his jeans, a shape that he palmed before unfastening his own jeans. It took him longer than it did her, as he stopped to kick off his shoes and socks.

Both naked now, they stared at one another. “Zoe, oh my God.” He sounded the way she felt; she didn’t dare glance at his face to confirm it. His body was all fair skin and tan lines, powerfully muscled and sleek, even better than she’d imagined during long nights of fantasy.

She focused on the physical. All she needed was the beautiful body in front of her; anything else she might be feeling was clouded and untrustworthy. “Come here,” she murmured, tilting to her side and holding out her hand. He came to her then, and when he started to kiss her once more, she grew bold. She took his hand in hers and slid it down her belly until his fingers rested against the swell of her mons. “Please,” she said, and he moaned, his fingers sliding against the dampness of
her pubic hair. He nestled against her shoulder and pressed kisses to her neck while his fingers dragged over her, slow and exploratory. She spread her legs, feeling open and exposed, wanting him—needing him—to go faster. The tip of one finger dipped and swirled over her folds and she clung to him, arching toward his hand, wordlessly begging for more.

He gave it to her, teasing his way to her clitoris with two fingers, stroking and rubbing every part of her until he figured out the best way to set her body on fire. His cock was trapped against her hip, and she wanted to feel it in her hand. She reached for him and his fingers faltered, then stroked faster. When he started slipping his fingers in and out of her, she rocked her hips with the rhythm, so far gone she barely knew where she was. Finally she gasped and stopped moving. “Wait. I want to come with you inside me. Please.” His cock twitched hard in her hand as if making the affirmative answer. “My purse,” she said. “In there.”

He laughed against her ear, a low, wicked chuckle. “You had plans for tonight, did you?”

“Nothing this good,” she gasped. “Oh God, please.” She was so close her clit was throbbing with need, her cunt spread open and waiting for him to fill her up. He pulled the strip of condoms from her purse, tearing one off and tossing the other two onto the nightstand. She watched as he rolled it on, stroking himself once or twice. Imagining watching him do just that until he came made her feel faint. He knelt on the bed between her knees, slipping two fingers easily back inside her, twisting and curling until she saw stars.

“Come up here,” he said, and settled against the headboard. Zoe turned over and crawled after him, straddling his knees, then his hips. He pulled her in to devour her mouth and she lowered onto his lap, giving a small whimper when the head of his cock breached her. He thrust up, and she met him halfway. Slowly, they started so slowly, and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his lips parted. She let her head fall back, giving in to the exquisite motion inside her, each thrust a teasing brush against her clit.

“Look at me,” he begged softly. “Show me.”

She was so close, she had to fight to keep her eyes open, fixed on his. The intimacy was almost more than she could bear.

The orgasm that ripped through her seemed to last forever. She thought she heard her name, thought she spoke his, sparks and jolts flying through her body until she went limp against his shoulder, her hips still moving, still riding him through the last bright flares of pleasure. She didn’t trust herself to speak, but buried her face against his neck and let him hold her while they rolled and arched against each other, the rhythm changing to a tender motion. He cupped her face and they kissed, soft and sweet and overwhelming. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t open her eyes. This wasn’t sex anymore; they were making love and she had never felt so exposed in her life.

This was the man who’d saved her, who’d fought for her and then cradled her to keep her safe. None of her childish daydreams had prepared her for this. Her eyes stung with unwanted tears and she kept fighting to keep them closed, not wanting him to see.

The second orgasm caught her by surprise, rolling through her while he murmured against her skin how beautiful she
was, how strong. Zoe fought to keep her emotions in check even while her body gave in.

She undulated her hips against him, focusing on stroking him inside her body, wanting more than anything to make him lose control before he could tear down all of her defenses utterly. He came with a choked cry, and she kissed him hard to keep him from talking. To hear him say her name right then was more than she could stand.

He lifted her and managed to carry them both forward until she was on her back and he was lying on her. He was still hard enough to be inside her, and he made teasing little thrusts, raining soft kisses on her face. Gradually they stilled, and she rolled until they lay facing each other. She kept her face buried against his chest, trying to regain her composure.

“God, you’re amazing,” he murmured, stroking her hair back to kiss her forehead. “I mean, I had thought about it, but I never expected . . . That was . . .”

Her heart battered at her ribcage. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for her. He’d thought about this? She leaned up and kissed him, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t make her a fool.
Focus on the sex, not on the look in his eyes when he came. Get
him
to focus on the sex.
She made a low, throaty groan, stretching and turning it into an undulation against him. “That was so, so good. I hope it lived up to your fantasy.”

He chuckled. “You sound like you want more.”

“Who wouldn’t want more of that?” She risked a playful look at him, running a finger down his chest. “I wish I could stay here and”—she said the next word deliberately and slowly—“fuck you all night.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shivered against her. “You can. In fact, I think you should.”

She pouted up at him. “I can’t. I have to be at the clinic early in the morning.” It wasn’t a lie. The epidemic was slowing, but they were still overwhelmed.

“You can stay just a little while longer, can’t you?” His smile was wicked as he tilted his head toward the nightstand. “You’ve got at least two more chances.”

She shook her head and kissed him again thoroughly, this time for good-bye. “The epidemic.” She gave him what she hoped was a rueful smile. “I should try to get at least some sleep, and I won’t do that if I’ve got you in my bed.” She pulled away and started looking for her clothes. “Your number’s on your IFI card, right? I’ll call you.”

Chapter Five

The next morning, Susan came out of her room and blinked sleepily at Zoe. “What’re you doing here, girl? That pretty friend of yours from last night wasn’t worth staying over for?”

“Oh, no. It was fine. I needed to get back to the clinic early this morning.”
Fine
. It had been possibly the hottest sex she’d ever had and all she’d been able to think about while she lay wide-eyed and sleepless in her own bed. So much for reducing stress with a one-night stand.

“You okay?” Susan dropped into her usual chair, leaning in to look at her. “What time did you get in?”

“It wasn’t too late. One thirty?”

“You two didn’t waste any time after you left. I don’t blame you, he’s a hottie.”

“I thought you didn’t like men.” Zoe stood to get more coffee and poured one for Susan.

“Honey, I love men.” She grinned and laid on the Texas twang extra thick. “Just because I ain’t ever gonna drive a Mercedes don’t mean I won’t watch one go past.” She took the mug from Zoe and smirked. “And that one looks like he handles like a dream.”

“Oh God.” Zoe covered her heating face with her hands. “Enough with the car metaphor. I get it.”

“You telling me the truth though? Things are okay?”

“Yeah. I just—I don’t think I should see him again, is all.” Another understatement.

“Well darlin’, that is the point of a one-night stand . . . but it might’ve been smarter to pick somebody you didn’t already know.”

Boy, was that ever the truth. “I should go get ready.” Zoe pushed back from the table. She’d showered when she’d got home last night, but she wanted another one. Anything to see if she could wipe away the memory of Lee’s touch from her skin and reclaim her own thoughts.

It was no good. The rare free moments she had that day, her thoughts went to him, to the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her. She’d promised to call him, but she hadn’t the faintest idea what she would say.

So in the end, she decided she was too busy to call.

***

When Lee woke up that morning, he imagined he could still smell Zoe’s scent on the sheets, in the air, on his skin. If not for the two unused condoms on the nightstand, he’d wonder if it had all been a dream. He’d never forgotten the first time he’d held her in his arms, cradling her as they rode a helicopter out of Oaxaca. The surge of tenderness and protectiveness he’d felt from the very first time he’d seen her still startled him.

It had all culminated in finding her last night. He couldn’t say he’d never imagined having her in his bed, but his imagination had fallen so far short of the reality of it. She’d been so hot for him, almost more ready than he was. His only regret was not taking the time to savor every inch of her body, tasting her and stroking her and bringing her to more than just the two orgasms. He wanted her now more than ever.

It wasn’t just the sex, although thinking about it still stole his breath and made his cock twitch with interest. There was more there. He felt it, and he’d swear he saw it in her eyes. Just as he’d been ready to pull her close and murmur in her ear, she’d nearly broken him with a sex kitten act—telling him how much she still wanted to fuck him. But then she’d left.

Whatever name he wanted to put to his feelings, after that, he had to assume she didn’t share them, no matter what he thought he’d seen. If he were smart, he’d let it go. Just let last night be a beautiful, treasured memory. Even as he thought it, he knew if she wanted him again there was no way he could refuse.

He was setting himself up for a major heartbreak, but he’d known that was possible from the very start. He should have kept her firmly fixed in his mind as a mission objective, nothing more.

Instead of rolling over and burying his face in his sheets, hoping for one last breath of that elusive scent, he scrubbed at his face with his hands and rolled out of bed. At noon he was meeting Timo, who had more information for him. Based on his note, he’d found something about the Colombian government’s awareness of increased activity by anti-government groups in the area. Lee had just enough time to shower and get to the meeting early, in plenty of time to scope out the area.

One of the good things about Inírida was that he didn’t have to pretend to be a tourist to blend in. Tourism to the Rio Inírida was growing, but the remoteness of the town still gave it a vaguely clandestine air; foreigners often went unremarked, with the assumption that as long as everyone minded their own business, nobody would get shot.

Lee’s cover story was just seedy enough to be unremarkable. If anyone checked, they’d find that his hotel room was paid for with a corporate credit card. IFI was a real company, all right, an enormous conglomerate with employees all over the world, which made them an excellent cover for any number of CIA agents. As a bonus for Lee, wherever there were natural resources left to be exploited, IFI was there—making remote Colombia a natural fit. He’d met Timo under the guise of looking for a quick and dirty contact with the local government.

Dressing and acting the part was easy: a suit jacket over a dress shirt and jeans, and a veneer of slightly sleazy charm. Both concealed the Glock in his shoulder holster and the sharp way he watched everyone around him.

The café was a local favorite, busy at all hours. Ceiling fans turned lazily overhead, doing little to stir the heavy, stifling air. Lee found a corner table and ordered guarapo, which was cold and sweet and reminiscent of limeade. The café was nearly full, with various Puinave and Curripaco natives, some llaneros in town to conduct business, and a few soldiers taking a break. In one of the opposite corners sat a hard-eyed woman perhaps a few years older than him. He wasn’t sure who she was working for, but if she wasn’t his foreign equivalent, he’d be shocked. The Colombian government liked to claim that the revolutionaries and the cartels were less active these days than they’d been in the 1990s, but there were plenty of countries that wanted to keep tabs for themselves.

If the woman recognized him for what he was, she didn’t show it. She met up with another woman, and the two of them walked out, chatting about shopping. Her Spanish was accented enough to mark her as not a native, but Lee couldn’t nail down an origin before she was gone.

Shortly after noon, Timo walked in, smiling when he saw Lee. “Will, how are you?”

“Good. It’s been too long though.” Excluding clandestine meetings in cabs, that is. He signaled for another guarapo for Timo, and they chatted for several minutes about nothing in particular—the latest soccer match, what teams were doing well, the weather. They talked long enough to bore any casual listener. When his internal clock told him they’d stalled long enough, Lee said, “Did you ever find those photographs we were talking about?”

“My sister, at the wedding.” Timo beamed and produced a large envelope from his messenger bag. The envelope crinkled in his hands and looked stuffed. “She is a beautiful girl, my friend. I think you will want to meet her after you look through these.” He handed the envelope over. The kid was good at this, and unlike many of the informants and recruits he’d worked with in the past, absolutely fearless.

Lee grinned back at him. “If I want her phone number, would you give it to me?”

“Only after I warn her never to trust an American man.” They laughed.

“I’m hurt,” Lee said.

“I like you, William, but I do not like you
that
much.”

The conversation went on, and Timo invited him to lunch, which he turned down, citing another appointment. It wasn’t a lie. Part of his cover involved getting to know local businessmen, other foreigners, other soldiers. He was careful to make his meetings with informants indistinguishable from his meetings with everyone else. Bribery was a tradition that was alive and well in Guainía, and Inírida was at the heart of it. Almost every meeting he had involved giving or taking envelopes openly or under the table. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that a few of those envelopes contained something other than a mix of local and foreign currency. Some, like the one he’d just received from Timo, held Colombian government reports and photographs.

When he returned to his hotel room, the town had settled into its late afternoon lull. During his last meeting, with a representative of one of the local rubber manufacturers, he kept getting distracted, thinking his phone had buzzed with a message from Zoe. He’d forced himself to let it go until he was in private. Even now, in his hotel room, he did his usual sweep for bugs before checking his phone.

There was nothing. Lee sat down on the edge of his bed, the same bed that not eighteen hours earlier he had shared with her. She hadn’t promised to call him today, and just reminding himself of that made him feel like a teenager. Still, whatever had happened the night before, he was getting the feeling that Zoe didn’t want to see him again.