Authors: Lisa Nicholas
There was a sign in the parking lot that said this was the Hotel de la Cascada, with a “closed” sign over it. The two of
them walked past, across a small footbridge (looking down confirmed there were four levels below) to the main entrance. Caution signs covered the front door, as well as a warning against trespassers. From the amount of graffiti spray-painted inside beyond the glass doors, they weren’t the first people to ignore the warnings.
Lee opened the door with a grand, sweeping gesture. “After you.”
She walked through the doors, acutely aware of his nearness as she passed him. Ruined or no, the thought that she was entering a hotel with him sent a pleasant little shiver down her spine. Maybe there were beds. Maybe they could— Her fantasizing was cut short by the scent of mildew and damp combined with the living green of the jungle. The lobby was an elaborate ruin. The tiles on the floor were cracking and uprooted in places, but she could still make out the shape of the mosaic that had once been there. Aside from a few pieces of ruined furniture and a vast desk lining one end, it was empty. Probably no beds, then. “Where to?”
He pointed to what looked like an even larger room beyond the lobby. “What about there?”
If the size of the room and the few broken tables were any indication, this had once been the dining room. The far wall looked to be made entirely of glass at first, but on second glance Zoe saw the French doors, and the balcony beyond them. The reason for the glass was obvious: the room overlooked the waterfall, which began about halfway up the windows, and loomed close enough that Zoe expected to see water droplets on the glass. “Ooh.” She crossed the room and pulled open one of the French doors, letting in the roar of the water.
“Zoe, wait.” Lee caught up to her. He held on to the door frame, stuck his foot out, and stomped hard on the stone floor of the balcony. “Okay,” he said, and got out of her way.
The balcony wasn’t very deep, just enough to maybe have allowed for a couple small tables each with a chair or two, so guests could have their breakfast and coffee by the waterfall. It was one of the most beautiful things Zoe had ever seen. At the bottom of the falls was a good-sized pool of water before the river flowed on down the gorge, likely to join the Inírida somewhere downstream. The pool was walled halfway around by the gorge. Looking straight down, there was a patio that extended from the hotel’s bottom floor, with a few rusted tables and chairs still visible amid the weeds growing through the bricks.
The mud from her fall had started to dry on Zoe’s skin, and it was getting uncomfortable. That pool of water looked more tempting by the moment. “Can we go wash off?” she asked. “If we can find the stairs?”
“Good idea.”
The stairs were off the lobby, and they went down the three flights to the bottom of the building. The stairwell door opened out into a long hallway, exactly what one would expect to see on a guest floor of a hotel.
After opening a few doors—the locks had been electric and were long since disabled—it was quickly apparent that the rooms on the left side opened out into a courtyard on the side without the waterfall, while the premium rooms were on the right, each equipped with patios that faced the waterfall. The patios led to the grotto they’d seen from the dining room above. A quick examination of the pool, and Lee declared it safe for swimming. “You can go first,” he said. “I’ll go back inside.”
Zoe didn’t point out that the inside was lined with glass designed for looking
outside
, but nodded. When he went back in, she walked to the water’s edge. Untucking her shirt provided an unpleasant surprise: during her fall, mud had gotten pushed down the neck of her shirt and had started to dry, raining a smattering of damp clumps of mud to the ground. She made a noise of disgust, and lost any reticence about getting undressed. She wanted the mud off as quickly as possible.
Lee could be watching her. Was he? The skin on the back of her neck prickled as she looked back toward the windows, but they revealed nothing. She hoped he was.
That realization startled her. She’d had enough of fear. Whatever this was, if it was just sex, if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter right now. Twice now he’d saved her life. Wasn’t that enough of a reminder just how short life could be? Maybe they weren’t perfect together, maybe they weren’t sure about each other’s jobs, but she felt sure about him.
She made up her mind. Tonight she was going to seduce Lee, and damn the consequences. She waded into the water with a new eagerness. Mud dissolved from her skin almost as soon as it touched the cool water.
The pool had a sharp drop off the closer she got to the waterfall, so she stayed where she could just touch the bottom with her head and shoulders above water. She’d only been in the water a few minutes when Lee called from the doorway. “I found some soap.”
“Great. I’m in the water. It’s safe to come out.” Even though she was hidden by the bubbling, churning water, just realizing she was naked in his presence made her skin prickle with awareness. He, ever the gentleman, kept his eyes on her face as he carried the soap to the water’s edge.
“I can throw it to you,” he said.
That was her opening. “Or you could bring it to me. I mean, you’re muddy too.”
“I am,” he agreed, his voice gone gravelly. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” She didn’t want to lose herself in somebody, anybody. She didn’t want to lose herself at all. It was him. They were here, alone, in a beautiful setting, and she wanted to see him, feel his hands scrubbing her back—or more. He moved molasses-slow as he undressed, taking off each item of clothing as if he were giving her ample opportunity to change her mind and tell him to stop. She didn’t, and she didn’t look away either.
That night in his hotel, things had been so urgent she hadn’t taken the time to really look at him, and that was a shame. The voice in her head that told her not to trust anything she felt or anything he said was still there, but it was easy to ignore. And she wanted to ignore it, especially when he kicked off the last of his clothing and started walking into the water.
He had the tan lines of a man who didn’t spend much time having fun. His hands, neck, and face were all a few shades darker than the rest of him, which was pale and lean and just hairy enough to be interesting. Speaking of interesting, his face had flushed pink when he realized she was looking at him.
“I brought you the soap,” he said once he was in arm’s reach, and held it out. Sure enough, it was a small hotel sample–size, a little dry and cracked around the edges, but it still smelled of sweet lavender. She took it from him, letting her fingertips drag over his palm.
“Thanks.” She dipped the soap into the water and started lathering it between her hands, the scent of lavender getting stronger. They watched each other, about two feet away and still not touching, as she lathered up her arms and shoulders before offering him the soap. “Can you wash my back?” She barely recognized the voice as her own.
“Yeah.”
She turned her back to him, and his hands were warm and gentle on her skin, just as she’d known they would be. The soap was in one hand, while the other massaged the lather into her stiff muscles. Only his hands touched her, although she imagined she could feel the warmth of his body close to her back. She wanted more. When his hands reached her waist, she covered the one without the soap and eased his hand forward so it rested against her stomach. He followed until she felt his body against hers, evidence pressed against her lower back that he was very much interested in touching her more. The hand with the soap wound around her waist as well, and he rubbed the bar in small circles. He scooped up a handful of the water and rinsed her shoulders before closing his arms around her again.
He lowered his lips to her shoulder, and she shivered, leaning back against him. Hot and cold flashed through her and she tried not to squirm as he kissed a slow trail up her shoulder to her neck, his mouth lingering with slow, gentle licks right where the two met. Zoe couldn’t help the small whimper, and he answered with a sigh, pulling her tighter against him. He reached her cheek, and she turned her head to meet him. They kissed slow and sweet until the awkward angle made her turn around in his arms. Her still soap-slippery stomach rubbed against his skin as they clung to each other. Lee kept rubbing the soap over her back and sides until she took it away to return the favor. She loved the way he felt, and curled her fingers into the muscles of his back. His kisses were enough to make her ache, long teasing tastes of her lips and mouth.
They couldn’t have kissed that long, but when they parted and she opened her eyes, it was nearly dark. Mist was starting to rise from the pool. She chuckled, nuzzling against his cheek. “Should we actually wash before we get too distracted?” They finished bathing with alacrity, stealing kisses and laughing at each other. Zoe couldn’t remember feeling this way before. There wasn’t a sense of urgency, although they were both eager to continue what they’d begun. It was . . . a sense of calm, relaxed anticipation. They would get there, but in the meantime, every moment had something to savor. Had she ever heard him laugh this much before?
He followed her out of the water, and she was acutely aware of his eyes on her naked body. She’d never felt such an urge to flaunt herself. Reaching down to pick up her discarded clothing, she took her time, stretching out and moving slow, then sauntering toward the door with a glance over her shoulder. The smile on his face was enough to make her melt as he followed.
Chapter Sixteen
Inside, she found that he’d already set up their “camp.” The tarp was spread over the floor of what had once been a luxury hotel room, and the sleeping bag was spread on top with an extra blanket. There was a lantern on the floor she hadn’t seen before, and in the middle of the stone floor was a pile of broken up pieces of wood and furniture that looked deliberately arranged.
Lee came up behind her while she stood in the doorway, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder. “What do you think?”
“It’s cozier than I would have expected.” She leaned back. “What’s the wood for?”
“Well, stone walls, stone floor, good ventilation out the French doors. I thought a fire might be nice.
“I’m excited about sleeping under a roof,” she said. “Please don’t burn it down over our heads.”
He laughed and tightened his arms in a hug. “I promise.” He walked her over to the sleeping bag. “Now, you just sit down here . . .”
“Can’t I get dressed first?”
The voice that sounded in her ear was low and dark and tinged with a promise that nearly made her gasp. “Do you really want to?”
“No,” she admitted, and let him help her down to a sitting position on the makeshift bed. She watched as he crouched over his pack, retrieving matches, then lit the small pile of wood in a few strategic spots. Within minutes, there was a small, cheerful fire. While it wasn’t cold, exactly, the idea of possibly getting their clothing dry was irresistible.
When Lee came back and sat beside her, Zoe felt suddenly shy. What was happening—whatever it was—felt fragile and tentative. “Kiss me,” she said. He eased her back onto the blankets and brushed a curl from her forehead before kissing her carefully.
She wanted to pull him down and kiss him hard and fast and let the hunger for the physical block out anything else, but she didn’t. She followed his lead. As he leaned over, she reached up and ran her hand down one of his cheeks, feeling the stubble rasp beneath her fingertips. She traced the sharp angles of his cheekbones and nose before sliding over the soft skin of his lips. Not once did she look away from his deep blue eyes, no matter how exposed she felt. He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips, trailing just the tip of his tongue over the whorls of her fingerprints. It tickled and made her close her eyes. When she opened them, he leaned in and kissed her again. They still kissed slowly, but with more heat, a slow burn that grew as they pressed closer together, damp warm skin against damp warm skin.
He twined their fingers together and pressed her hand back to the blanket, his mouth leaving hers to trail across her jawline. Zoe arched her neck, inviting his mouth. He nipped at the skin over her pulse, and she groaned softly.
“Okay?” he murmured against her skin, the fingers of his free hand sliding up her ribcage.
“Yeah. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” She didn’t mean to say it aloud, and when he paused, she worried that she’d said the wrong thing entirely.
But he was smiling when he pulled away to look at her. There was so much warmth and emotion in his eyes as they roamed over her face. “Zoe—” She put a finger to his lips, afraid he was about to say something she wasn’t quite ready to hear. He shook his head and kissed her again. The fire between them grew until he was kissing his way down her body, pausing to lick and tease her nipples until she squirmed beneath him. He stopped. “Damn it.”
“What?” She raised up on her elbows.
“Wait right here.” He moved away and she was grateful for the warmth of their little fire against her skin. He rooted through his pack, muttering. He came back to her, looking sheepish. “I’m really sorry.”
She began to understand what the problem might be, and tried not to smile. “Well, it’s not as if
I
came into the jungle expecting to get laid either.” Condoms were actually a regular part of her medical kit supply list, but she’d left the last of hers with the villagers at Puerta del Ángel.
“Should we stop?” he said.
The small, scared part of her wanted to take the escape route. Nope, neither one of them had condoms, what a shame. But then she thought about the way he’d looked at her, the slow sweet way the fire between them had been starting to build, and running became the last thing she wanted. Zoe smiled and crooked her finger. “I know you’ve got a better imagination than that. Come here. I think we can still manage to make each other very happy.” She wanted—no, she needed—to be close to him.
The smile he gave her could have lit a room. He dropped to his knees at her feet and rained kisses on her calves, making her laugh. The stubble tickled. How was it possible to feel such a mad urge to giggle even while the most beautiful man she’d ever seen was slowly kissing his way up her inner thigh? The tenderness she’d felt was still there, subsumed with joy. He teased her, licking and nipping first the sensitive backs of her knees, then following a single-minded path that left her trembling. She whimpered with disappointment when he jumped to her belly, only to laugh again when he nuzzled her with his cheeks. “Get up here.” She pulled him up so she could wrap her arms around him. He rolled them to their sides and they lazily kissed and stroked each other, legs twined together. Gradually, the urge to giggle left her as his hands grew bolder, cupping her breasts so he could bring them to his mouth, giving a soft moan in appreciation as if she were the most succulent thing he had ever tasted. She explored the hard curves of his hips and thighs, letting her hands tease past the silky hot skin of his erection just to hear him gasp around her nipple.
When he finally brushed a hand between her thighs, she arched toward him, opening for him.
“Yes?” he said.
“
Yes
.” She let him roll her onto her back, and propped herself up on her elbows so she could see him. He looked up at her and smiled a dirty, hot-eyed smile that made her shiver with anticipation. “Oh God.”
He barely touched her at first, teasing the bit of hair between her legs, barely dragging his fingers over her lips. Slowly,
so slowly, watching her face the entire time, he let the tip of his middle finger part her lips and slide between them. She tried to hold his gaze as he started to find her most sensitive, touch-starved places, dragging his finger over them as if he were striking a match. He may as well have been. It was like she couldn’t open her legs wide enough to him. Keeping her eyes on his face became a challenge again, not because she wanted to flee from what she saw on his face, but because the things his fingers were doing made her want to close her eyes and drop her head back in bliss. He found her clit and circled it until she couldn’t breathe. She was faintly aware that she was thrusting her hips into his hand and making a pitiful whining sound. His lips were parted, his breath coming faster too. He lowered his mouth to her breasts as his fingers worked, one sliding inside her, then another.
Once again he started the sweet sliding trail of his mouth down her belly, and the tension of waiting made her want to explode, to beg. All she could think of was his mouth and tongue, wanting them between her legs, wanting his tongue inside her where his fingers were. When he finally reached her clitoris, she cried out in relief, tightening her thighs as if she could keep him there. He seemed intent on tasting every fold, every crease, running his tongue all over her. He moaned as he lapped at her clit, his fingers still stroking in and out of her in a slow, steady, tidal rhythm. Zoe clutched at the blanket, twisting her fists in it like she was trying to hold on to the skin of the world.
It was impossible that he could be so in tune with her reactions, but he was, speeding up his thrusts, focusing more attention at the base of her clit, just where she liked it most. She gave over completely, letting him make her dance like a puppet beneath his fingers and tongue. When she finally came, it was a slow, tumbling, breaking wave that swelled until it threatened to drown her. She cried out and trembled until she had to beg him to stop, just on the brink of overstimulation. He collapsed against her thighs, out of breath. While she was recovering, he crawled up beside her and pulled her into his arms. She curled limply against him, making soft, blissful sounds. The hot, hard shape of his cock pressed against her hip, and she still wanted, oh how she wanted. She wanted to make him feel even half as good as he had made her feel. So while she was still gathering her strength, she teased him, barely touching his thighs and his balls, trailing her fingers over his cock to listen to his breath catch.
“You are amazing.” She turned on her side to face him. She kissed him, thrilling to the taste of herself on his lips. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything to make you feel good.” Even as she said it, she realized it was true. There was nothing she could think of that she shouldn’t do—and enjoy. Instead of terrifying her, it gave her an exhilarating sense of power. She leaned in and kissed him again and murmured, “So tell me.”
“Just touch me,” he said.
“I think I can do better than that.” Zoe started to kiss her way down his firm, pale body, but he stopped her. “No?”
“Yes,” he said, “but like this.” He sat up and tugged at her legs until she turned around entirely. Realizing what he meant made her whimper, but she let him lie back and pull her onto him, her knees to either side of his head. She crouched over him, shivering as his cheeks brushed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and tried to focus on the gloriously hard cock in front of her.
She wanted to tease him the way he’d teased her, running her fingertips over his shaft while blowing warm air across the glistening tip. But then he curled his tongue against her clit, leaving her too distracted to tease. He groaned when she took him into her mouth, making her smile around his hot, silken skin. As she started to slide up and down, using one hand for balance and one hand to wrap around the base of his cock, he lapped at her folds, easing his fingers into her. A wave of intense pleasure rippled through her, throwing off the rhythm she was trying to build.
They devoured each other, passing pleasure back and forth between them like a burning torch. When his mouth left her breathless, she stopped sucking long enough to recover, savoring the slide of his cock against her hand, the beauty of brown skin against white. And when she brought him close to the edge, he panted against her thighs, groaning her name.
Zoe wanted more than anything to make him lose control. She focused everything she had on driving him insane, her lips and tongue and hands, even a little bit of her teeth. Her own pleasure curled in the pit of her stomach, trembling and ready. When he came, his mouth left her body entirely, and he nearly sat up with the force of it, crying out. She held on, letting him pulse inside her as her body ached and throbbed in response.
Before either of them could catch their breath, he took her again with his fingers and tongue. She sat up to rock and thrust against him, desperate for release. His free hand clenched tight on her hip as she rode him, finally crying out loud enough to echo down the empty corridors as she shuddered and spasmed with the force of her orgasm.
Zoe collapsed and let Lee pull her around and up to him as if she were a rag doll, nestling against his shoulder while he stroked her face, slowly bringing her back to earth. He murmured sweet words to her, but the words he didn’t say were loudest. “I love you” slipped between every phrase he spoke, and for the first time, Zoe didn’t think about running from it.
Afterward, they realized they were both starving, and tore into their supplies without bothering to get dressed. They ate bundled under the blanket, giggling and feeding each other bites of mushy spaghetti. It wasn’t long, though, before they were kissing again, then crawling back under the blankets for more.
***
“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a baseball game. Never, not once,” Zoe said.
“Not a pro game, no.” Lee was pushing them on a fast pace—they were both a little out of breath. They’d reluctantly left the hotel a few hours before, after a predictably late start. Sleep had come late, and breakfast was interrupted by long slow kisses that led them back to the blankets. While he wouldn’t have missed those caresses for anything, now the pressure of time was hard for him to ignore.
The “road” to the hotel wasn’t much more than a wide dirt track, but it beat walking through the jungle. Lee kept his ears open for any aircraft overhead.
“Where the hell did you grow up?” She laughed. “Mars?”
“Close enough, just outside of D.C.” He couldn’t stop smiling at her, like he was seeing the real Zoe for the very first time. “My dad wasn’t a sports fan.”
“I used to go with my mom and her sisters. We’d sit in the bleachers at the old Yankee Stadium, and Mama would drink beer and yell at the umpire.” She grinned and kicked a rock out in front of her. “I’ve never heard her swear in English, but in Spanish, with a couple beers in her, she’ll make a sailor blush.”
Lee laughed. “That’s a little like my mom, only she’s not bilingual, and it’s wine instead of beer.”
“So what did you do, if you didn’t go to baseball games?” She came up beside him and took his hand in hers, catching him by surprise.
He squeezed her hand and she made a small noise of contentment. He could tell her about the trips to the opera that his father was so fond of, or how Lee had only gotten out of cello lessons once it was apparent he was hopeless, while Lucas was something of a musical prodigy. “My father was a snob,” he said. “Baseball was too low-brow for him. I was allowed to play football in school because it was something his friends’ sons did too. He would have rather I’d been a musician, or a poet.” Which was ironic, considering that he’d driven away the son who
was
a musician.
“How would he feel about his son dating a black girl from New York?” The question shouldn’t have startled him, but it did.
“We didn’t have Confederate flags around the house or anything, but he was pretty old-school Virginian.” The list of things Nathan Wheeler had disapproved of for his sons was long and far-reaching. He sighed. “I think he would have been an ass about it, and I think it would’ve been another reason we stopped talking.”