Cold Day in Hell (15 page)

Callie laughed, so hard he sent a questioning glance toward Conn who shook his head and looked concerned. “Callie, baby, you okay?”

She waved a hand in the air then raised one finger. “Give me a … um, a minute.” She chuckled for a few seconds longer then wiped the heels of her hands over her face, rubbing away the newest tears from her laughing jag. “Um, you offered to feed me.” Risto frowned. “That set you off?”

She nodded and choked back another laugh. “Um, after a big battle or a tense situation, my dad said soldiers want three things: food or alcohol, sex and sleep. You just offered me food and wine.”

“Well, I can offer a bed and some…” Conn looked at Risto and laughed.

Risto shot him an ugly look. “Well she sure isn’t getting the sex from you, old buddy, so shut the fuck up—and she’s sleeping with me.”

“Never doubted it, old buddy.” Conn leaned over and looked Callie in the eyes.

“Callie, if this dumbass decides to let you get away, call me.”

“Over your dead body, asshole.” Risto glared as he shoved Conn on his ass. The loon laughed until he choked.

Chancing a glance at Callie, he found a slight smile on her face. “Callie?”

“I only want you, Marine.” She kissed his chin and then licked the small scar on his lip.

He grunted. “Good, that’s good. Now, let’s see about feeding you. We have a long day tomorrow. We need to get to bed soon.”

“Yes, Risto.” She snuggled into his chest, let out a yawn, and fell instantly asleep.

Conn smiled fondly at Callie. “Put her to bed and crawl in with her, Risto. She’ll need you when she wakes up.” All soldiers understood nightmares, especially after first kills. “The food will still be here later. Berto and I will do cleanup and then eat. We’ll store the leftovers in the refrigerator. I’ve called in extra guards. No one will get to Callie again.”

“Thanks.” He stood up and carried his exhausted little soldier to their room.

At the doorway, he stopped. The room had been ransacked by Ricky and the mercs.

Well, at least the bed was still standing and mostly made. He carried Callie to it, laid her down, efficiently stripped her, then retrieved a damp cloth and wiped off all the blood on her skin, checking to make sure she didn’t need stitches. After cleaning her up the best he could, he stripped and climbed in next to her. Pulling her butt against his thighs, he dragged the comforter over them and fell asleep, his nose against her neck, his arm anchoring her waist.

Chapter Eight

Blood and bodies littered the floor. She moved from the corner where she’d shot the
men who’d come to hurt her, to take her away. The house was deathly quiet. She was
safe—for now.

She lowered the gun to her side and walked to stand over the dead mercenaries. Her
aim had been true—single shots to each of their foreheads. She kicked their guns away,
just in case they came back to life.

Mixed emotions swept through her—satisfaction at surviving, regret at having to kill,
and grief for the loss of life. A half-laugh, half-sob came from her throat. She’d killed.

She took several deep breaths and the sickness threatening to overtake her subsided.

Backing away, she kept the men in sight. Would the images of them falling to the ground
and their empty unseeing eyes haunt her forever?

As she retreated, a hand grasped her ankle. How could she have forgotten? There’d
been a third man, Ricky, the traitor. She lost her balance and screamed as she fell to the
ground. Hitting the floor, she lost control of her gun. Ricky dragged her across the
surprisingly rough silk rug. He was strong and held her ankle in an unbreakable grip.

She clawed at the floor to slow his progress, but the rug came with her as he pulled her
ever closer.

She yelled obscenities, kicking out with her free leg as she attempted to grab her gun,
just out of finger reach. An unearthly growl came from her attacker. With almost super-human strength, he pulled her the last few inches. He held her tightly against his naked
torso, his cock erect and nudging the crease between her buttocks. He’d rape her! Hurt
her!

She found a well of strength and turned to fight her captor—it wasn’t Ricky. It was
Cruz. His fingers bit into her waist, jerking her closer. His dark, cruel eyes gleamed with
lust as he shoved his cock…

Callie woke, her cry of fear echoing off the high, beamed ceilings of her room at Conn’s house. A naked male lay against her back, surrounding her, trapping her. A fully erect cock rubbed along her ass.
Cruz!
She whimpered and began to struggle. It was her nightmare come to life. Had he killed Risto and the others? Had she killed for nothing?

“Ssh, Callie. Wake up. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” A familiar voice whispered over her cheek, the tones soothing and calm. Strong but gentle hands held her as she fought her way out of the nightmare to waking lucidity. “You’re safe. It’s just a dream. Just a dream.” Firm male lips pressed warm kisses along her tense, cold neck.

She inhaled, scented the clean male musk unique to one man. She exhaled shakily.

“Risto?”

An amused chuckle vibrated against her throat followed by a small nip on the pulse point. “Who else would be naked and holding you in his arms?”

“No one.” She let out a noisy breath then stiffened as she remembered. Tears formed in her eyes. Not everything in her nightmare had been imaginary. “I killed those men. I would’ve killed Ricky…”

Risto’s arms tightened, surrounding her with his strength, with safety. He took a gentle nip of her shoulder. “Don’t second-guess yourself. You did nothing wrong. They would’ve hurt you. Delivered you to Cruz.” He nuzzled a path to her ear. He licked, then took the lobe between his lips, sucking it. The sensations shot straight to her clit, and her pussy grew wet.

His mouth caused intense feelings, ones she couldn’t keep up with in her current frame of mind. He fondled one of her breasts, first cupping its fullness as if testing for ripeness then teasing the nipple with his finger and thumb.

“What are you doing?” Her voice sounded weak and so unlike herself. A low simmering ache roiled within her body, beginning with the ear he gently tortured, then to her breasts, and finally spreading to her sex where it grew into full-blown arousal unlike any she’d ever felt.

Risto released her earlobe and smothered an amused chuckle against her shoulder.

“I’m distracting you with sex. Is it working?” She nodded. He pinched her nipple. “Talk to me, Callie. Do you want this?”

He moved his hand from her breast to her mound. Dipping a finger into her opening, he spread her moisture over her labia and clit. “Oh, yeah, you’re wet.” Her arousal gently simmered as he lightly and rhythmically traced her labia. When he thrust a finger into her, then ground the heel of his hand over her clit, she yipped and arched against him. He sucked on her earlobe. “Callie, do you like what I’m doing to you?”

“Yes-s-s. Can’t you tell?” She arched her head back onto his shoulder so she could kiss his jaw. She couldn’t hold back the gasp of pain as his finger went even farther into her with her movement. God, it had been so long … she hadn’t realized it would be so uncomfortable … that it would hurt.

“Callie? Did I hurt you?” He began to withdraw his finger.

“Um … don’t stop.” She covered the hand on her sex. “Please? I want you … want this.”

*

Risto brushed a kiss over the side of Callie’s sweat-sheened face. She was in pain, but refused to admit it. So, he’d go slowly if it killed him. He wanted her as hot and ready as he was.

“Hush, sweetheart, I won’t stop, but you need to tell me what feels good, what hurts.

Tell me if I’m going too fast.” He tried to add another finger and managed it only after spreading even more of her juices around and several seconds of delicate stretching with the finger already inside her.

“God, you’re so tight, baby.” Kissing along her jaw, he observed her as he thrust his fingers in and out in a slow, gentle motion. Her discomfort was evident in her winces and the teething of her lower lip as she attempted to stifle her gasps.

He frowned. Jesus, had she ever even had sex before? He’d assumed … shit. He pulled his fingers from her, turned her upper body toward him and cradled her head on his arm so he could see her face. His cock throbbing against her ass protested the halt in action.

“Callie, look at me. Please tell me you’ve had sex before.” She opened her eyes, her lashes glistened with unshed tears. He found a mixture of lust and distress in her all-too-innocent gaze. She was either a virgin or really inexperienced.
Fuck, just fuck.

If she were a virgin, he’d fucking kill himself before taking her. Ren, Keely and Tweeter and every other Walsh male would resurrect his carcass and kill him again for even thinking about taking her innocence. He was not the man to introduce a complete novice to sex play.

“I’m not a virgin…” She hesitated.

Thank you, Lord.
Then he scowled. “Honey … it sounds as if there’s a
but
in there somewhere.”

“My first and last experiences were when I turned eighteen.” She spoke softly, her eyes closed against him. “My dad died the next week—and I sort of had to become a mother, the bread-winner—and, you know, had to deal with everything. Then Evan discovered me and I started modeling and really didn’t have a lot of time … and the men I attracted…”

“The men what?” he snarled.

Her eyes flashed open, their silver gray darkened with the storminess of her feelings.

“The men wanted my sexy, sophisticated image—and I’m not Calista. I’m plain old tomboy, marine brat Callie Meyers who’s only had sex twice in her whole life with one guy who…” She sniffed as tears slid onto her cheeks.

Damn.
She was fucking crying again. He wanted to kill someone—preferably the incompetent jerk who’d taken her virginity. God, she hadn’t had sex in over seven years?

What did the fucker do to her? “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, her hair slid over his supporting arm like a silken shower. “No.

No. It wasn’t like that. He was sweet … nice. We were both inexperienced and wanted to know what it was like.” She blinked and another tear trailed down her cheek. He caught it with his lips. “I’m afraid I won’t be up to your speed—and I want to be.” Risto cursed silently in three languages. Jesus H. Christ, she was more worried about disappointing him than him hurting her. How to explain to her that there was no way in hell she’d ever let him down. God knew, she deserved a gentler reintroduction to sex, but damned if he’d allow another man to have her. He was here and to hell with good intentions, he wanted her, she wanted him.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Try to relax for me. I need to stretch you out a bit.” He reinserted his fingers into her slippery channel, this time with more ease than before. He gradually increased the depth and vigor of his thrusts, watching and listening for her body’s cues.

When she whimpered at one particularly deep thrust, he withdrew his fingers slightly and rotated the heel of his hand lightly over her clit. “Sorry, baby. I need to stretch you so you can take me. I am quite a bit larger than my fingers.” She nodded and rubbed her cheek affectionately against the arm under her head.

He reintroduced his fingers as he licked and nibbled her neck just below her ear.

When she let out a sigh and relaxed into him, he bit the spot where her neck and shoulder met. She arched into him. He noted the sensitivity of her neck and shoulders.

“You just got wetter. You like me sucking on your neck.” He licked the spot he’d bitten, causing her to shiver.

“Yes … it makes my clit ache.”

He massaged the nub and chuckled as she yipped and thrust her pelvis against the heel of his hand. “Let’s add some more sensations to those. Hold your breast to my lips.”

“What?”

His stern order seemed to rouse her from the haze of sensations he was giving her.

Good, she’d need to be floating in pleasure when he took her with his cock. She was too fucking tight and he’d come as soon as he was in her.

“You heard me.” He licked her jaw. He curled the two fingers in her pussy and stroked. She sucked in a sharp breath and let it out on a whimper of need. He’d hit a sensitive spot. “Do it.”

With a shaky hand, she offered him the breast he’d fondled earlier. He continued to fondle her sex as he leaned over her and licked his way around the nipple in slow, concentric circles, never touching the tip. Her inner muscles clenched his fingers tightly and he wished they were his cock. She’d feel so good.

“Risto? Please?”

He stopped his teasing of her breast and rubbed his cheek over its upper curve.

“Please, what?”

“Suck my nipple.”

“My pleasure.” He captured the tip with his lips and suckled it with a strong pulling pressure. She made increasingly urgent noises in the back of her throat. Her body moved, always seeking his touch as he teased her sex with his fingers and her mons against the heel of his hand. When he lightly teethed the tender nub, she let out a tiny shriek. He felt her clit throb against his hand.

He allowed the puckered tip to slip from his mouth and then brushed a light kiss over the peaked bud. She shuddered and moaned. “Oh yeah, you liked that. My hand is soaked with your juices.” As he continued to nuzzle and lightly kiss her breast, he added a third finger to the two in her vagina. She took the extra digit easily. Soon, she would take his cock, but first—

“You have a choice, sweetheart. I can bring you to orgasm just like this, with me dividing my mouth between your neck, your breast, and my fingers playing with your clit and your pussy—” She whimpered as he demonstrated for several seconds. “Or, I can take you from behind with my cock. The second choice involves me letting you go long enough to snag a condom from my pants.”