Wild (16 page)

He tasted indescribably good. Not quite salty, like the ocean. Not like bitter coffee or minty toothpaste or any other recognizable flavor. It was something less definite but more appealing, the intoxicating combination of compatible pheromones and strong sexual chemistry. His mouth was the perfect texture, the perfect temperature. He also knew how to kiss, in bold, hungry strokes. She couldn’t get enough of him. It was a feast of slippery tongues and delicious pressure.

His hands roamed over her body, groping her bottom. She threaded her fingers through his hair, adding to the disarray. Then she tugged at the roots, making him kiss harder. He groaned his compliance, switching to a different angle. Heat exploded between them. The radios were in the way of what she wanted—his erection against the cleft of her thighs. The empty place inside her was there now. She ached for him to fill it.

Tearing her mouth from his, she reached down to unfasten his belt. It wouldn’t cooperate, and she couldn’t wait.

Panting, she smoothed her palm over the front of his pants, exploring the rigid length of his erection.

Wow.

He trapped her hand with his. Her eyes flew up to his face. He was breathing heavily, his jaw tense. After glancing around the dock again, he gave her a hesitant look. Regret washed over his flushed features.

Helena couldn’t believe it. His cock was burning into her palm, stiff and hot, and he was calling a halt.

“It’s not safe here,” he murmured.

She jerked her hand from his grasp, stricken.

He swore under his breath. Stepping away from her, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t suppose we can take a rain check?”

This outrageous question, more than anything else, broke through the haze of lust and adrenaline surrounding her brain. What was she thinking? There were wild animals on the loose. She’d just been attacked by a Komodo dragon at the other dock. What was
he
thinking, for that matter? They’d been crazy to start kissing in the first place. There was no way they were finishing.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said.

She fumbled for some excuse for her behavior, and found none. “I’m sorry,” she said, gesturing toward the tram cars. “I shouldn’t have…it was just…”

“Don’t,” he said, his gaze hardening.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t bullshit me about what happened. That—” he pointed at the tram “—didn’t make us want to fuck.”

She flinched at the accusation.

“This—” he indicated the space between them “—has been here all along. I’ve felt it more than once. I know you have, too.”

“I just had a near-death experience,” she said, flattening her palm over her racing heart. “What I felt was terror.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“And if Kim had been here instead of me, you’d have had the same reaction?”

“Maybe.”

He actually laughed. “I’d love to see that.”

She swallowed hard, knowing he was right. The combination of fear and attraction had caused her to lose control. “It was an accident. If you think I have feelings for you, you’re imagining things.”

“I’m imagining things?” His gaze moved from her parted lips to the rise and fall of her chest. He moved closer, invading her personal space. Challenging her with his directness. “I’m imagining that if I hadn’t stopped, you’d be up against the wall right now. Your legs would be locked around my waist and I’d be buried inside you.”

Her knees went weak at the mental image.

“Tell me you don’t want that.”

She looked away, refusing to answer. It wasn’t fair for him to press her like this when her body was still tingling with arousal. The tram cars continued to arrive and depart the station in a methodical row.

“You want it,” he said, putting his mouth close to her ear. “I want it. I’ll make it good, Helena. I’ll do you right.”

She forced herself to speak. “I can’t.”

“Because of Mitch?”

“We’re still together.”

“Are you?”

She wasn’t sure where their relationship stood, but she couldn’t say that to Josh. It would only encourage him, and he was hard enough to resist. Either way, she’d betrayed Mitch. Even if it was over between them, they hadn’t ended things officially. She was about to shove Josh away in self-disgust when he retreated on his own.

“Here comes my car,” Josh said, picking up the guns.

“What?”

“Here comes my tram car. We should take the same one back. It has the meat in it.”

Helena was stuck. It was too dangerous to walk, and they couldn’t get a vehicle to this location. She had to ride the Skylift again.

There was no time to second-guess this decision. They boarded the tram car as soon as it entered the station. She took the seat opposite him, gripping the safety bar for dear life.

Her hands felt raw, her senses reeling. The half-chewed side of beef was on the floor between them, along with a coiled length of rope.

The tram car began its sickening climb. Her tension rose with it.

“I thought you were cured,” Josh said.

She didn’t smile at his joke.

“How’d you hang on for so long?”

“I couldn’t let go.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

There was something in her eyes, like dust. She blinked a few times to clear her vision. They passed by Tau, who looked fine. Sailing over the park in the tram wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated. It was a hell of a lot better than dangling on the outside.

“What happened?” he asked.

She returned her attention to Josh. It was difficult to look at him. It would be even more difficult to look in the mirror. But he didn’t seem ashamed. His expression was neither nonchalant nor smug. If she could take a guess, she’d say he was concerned about her. “I had to restart the generator, and I turned my back to the entrance. Bambang came out of nowhere.”

“Why didn’t you shoot him?”

“I wasn’t ready. It’s harder than it looks in the movies.”

“I know.”

“Did you shoot people, in the navy?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it like?”

“It sucks.”

Helena wondered if she was capable of killing a person. It would be difficult enough for her to put down a dangerous animal. Despite the traumatic experience, she was glad Bambang hadn’t been injured.

“The first time I was ordered to fire my weapon, I hesitated,” he said. “I couldn’t tell if my target was armed. That was my mistake.”

“Why?”

“Because he
was
armed. He lifted his weapon and killed the guy right next to me.”

Her throat closed up. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” he said, meeting her gaze.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

C
HLOE WOKE FROM
a fitful sleep, disoriented.

She’d been dreaming about a tsunami. Emma had been ripped from her arms and swept away in the tumbling waves. Chloe had somersaulted through the water, bubbles rising from her throat as she screamed for her daughter.

Now she was in a strange, but cozy, place. Judging by the sparse light, it was early morning. Emma was cradled against her stomach, warm and secure. There was another heat source behind her. A sleeping man, snoring softly against her nape. Mateo must have gotten cold last night and decided to join them. The front of his body was molded to her back, and his hand was underneath her sweatshirt—under her tank top—cupping her right breast. He made a drowsy sound and flexed his fingers.

Her nipple hardened into a tight bead in his palm, jutting at the lacy cup of her bra. She was acutely aware of the inseam of her jeans, which had ridden up while she slept. Her vulva tingled with a mixture of discomfort and arousal.

She knew she should disengage herself from his embrace…but it felt good. He murmured something in Spanish and flicked his thumb over her nipple, wrenching a soft gasp from her lips.

The hairs on her neck stood on end. His erection swelled against her bottom, the silky fabric of his soccer shorts gliding over worn denim.

Then he froze, seeming to wake fully.
“Hijo de puta,”
he muttered, yanking his hand away from her breast.

Chloe tried to pretend she was asleep, but he was so clumsy in his panic to stop touching her that he fell off the bench with his hand still caught in her tank top. She was pulled backward with him. They landed in a tangled pile of limbs and tablecloths on the floor. Her injured thigh came down between his legs.

“Sorry,” he choked, grimacing in pain.

When he finally got his hand out of her cookie jar, she straightened her clothes and eased away from him. This was so embarrassing. Emma was still asleep on the cushioned bench, hugging her teddy bear.

Mateo said a bunch of things she didn’t understand. He was trying to apologize, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d practically been purring with pleasure, arching against him. It was an accident. Nobody’s fault. There was no way for her to tell him this, and she didn’t think he’d believe her, anyway. So she showed him. When he went quiet, she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his, very gently.

He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.

She smothered a laugh, her pulse racing with excitement. If she had a little more confidence in her appeal, not to mention her breath, she might have tried a lingering kiss. He looked confused, but not disinterested.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said, using the bench to boost herself up. He helped her stand, chivalrous as ever. She tested the strength of her injured leg and deemed it acceptable. The dull ache didn’t stop her from limping forward. He followed her down the hall, propping open the door for her.

“Thanks,” she said, skirting by him.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. He seemed to have processed the fact that she wasn’t offended. She ducked inside the bathroom, giddy as a schoolgirl. She wanted to doodle his name in a journal and like all of his pictures on Facebook. Did he have a page for his soccer team? A shirtless photo, taken after the championship game?

Swoon
.

She peeled down her jeans and used the restroom. Her thigh was discolored above the edge of the bandage. Underneath, her skin was probably black and blue. It felt bruised to the bone. When she was finished, she tugged the denim into place and returned to the lounge, rinsing her hands in the fountain. She covered Emma with the extra tablecloth.

Mateo was in the kitchen at the back of the restaurant. He’d found a dry salami and was cutting it into thin slices.
“Quieres?”

Chloe was hungry, but not that hungry. “I’m a vegetarian.”

He gave her a blank stare.

“I don’t eat meat.”

“Ah,” he said, popping a slice into his mouth. He gestured to a large refrigerator, indicating other options.

She opened the door with trepidation. The interior was room temperature, so she ignored anything that could spoil. There were more pears and candied nuts, along with a container of crumbled blue cheese. When Mateo saw the cheese, he frowned at her in disapproval. He shook his head, pointing at the color.

She realized that he thought it was bad. They must not have blue cheese in Panama. She ate some of the cheese to demonstrate its safety. Delicious. Then she offered him a crumble, raising it to his lips. He allowed her to feed him.

She could tell he didn’t like the taste when he grimaced and reached for a bottle of water. After washing it down, he said something uncomplimentary, maybe accusing her of trying to poison him.

Giggling at his reaction, she opened the fridge again. There was a round pan at the bottom of the fridge that looked promising. She uncovered it, revealing what appeared to be a pear tart. Mateo cut a slice for her and watched while she took a bite.

“Oh, my God,” she said. “Yum.”

He wasn’t as wary of the tart. Chewing carefully, he nodded his approval.
“Eso,”
he said, finishing the slice. But then he went back to his salami, as if he preferred savory over sweet. Josh was the same way.

Chloe woke up Emma for breakfast. She liked the salami
and
the tart. After she ate her fill, they got ready to leave the restaurant. Mateo packed some snacks and water in his beach bag. Chloe tucked a washcloth into Emma’s pants like a diaper, just in case she had an accident. They had a long journey ahead.

The smoke at the coast was still heavy, and there were fires burning in various locations. Chloe wanted to continue east as far as possible. When they reached Park Street, they could follow it north to the naval hospital. She figured the total distance was about three miles. An easy walk, under normal circumstances. With roads blocked and piles of rubble everywhere, it was a challenging maze.

Once again, the area was quiet and deserted. The earthquake had struck before operating hours for most local businesses. Schools were on spring break. But many residents had been in their cars, en route to work. She couldn’t imagine the number of fatalities. There must have been hundreds on the bridge alone.

Emma refused to be carried by Mateo or Chloe, which slowed their progress. Chloe’s leg felt better, but not good. The ill-fitting docksides didn’t help. They slid up and down her heel as she limped along, causing friction. The shoes weren’t comfortable for a stroll around the mall, let alone a hike through a ravaged city.

About an hour later, she was about to cry uncle when she spotted a Goodwill sign across the street. The front window was broken, but the interior looked safe. There was merchandise all over the floor.

“I need better shoes,” she said, pointing at the store. “Boots.”

He glanced down at her feet, and then toward the Goodwill. “Boots.
Sí.
”

They entered the space with caution. It was a large area, full of awesome junk. Chloe went straight to the shoe racks, which were overturned. She set Emma down with a book that made animal sounds and began digging through the pile while Mateo looked for
pantalones
. She found a pair of black combat boots first. They were too big, so she saved them for Mateo and settled on a pair of brown leather half boots for herself.

She needed socks, too. There was a plastic bin behind Emma. Chloe sorted through them and selected two pairs, blue for her and black for Mateo. She pulled on the socks with the boots, which were a perfect fit.