Cold Day in Hell (26 page)

His hand gripping her hair, he attempted to pull her away from her prize. “Callie…” She glared at him. “Mine. You promised.” She took his cock into her mouth and licked and sucked, using her hand to hold him steady.

“Fuck, just fuck.” A low guttural sound rumbled from his chest. His hands tugged her from his cock. “I need to be in you.”

Before she could protest, he pulled her up and unfastened her jeans then pulled them off. His fingers found her wet. “Thank you, Jesus, you’re ready for me.” He licked the moisture from his fingers then lifted her once again as if she weighed nothing. One arm around her back and another under her hips, he ordered, “Put your legs around my waist.” As soon as she did, he walked forward until she was braced once more against the door. “Put me in, Callie.”

She circled his cock with one hand as she held on to him with the other. As soon as she had the purpled wet head at her slit, he shoved into her with one hard lunge of his hips.

Callie let out a soundless scream, her head thumping against the door as she received each movement of his hips. “God, that feels so good.”

“Can’t go slow … sorry.”

“Not asking you to, Marine … fuck me … take me.” She moved her hands to hold on to his steely biceps.

At her words, Risto began to thrust hard and fast. All she felt was the drag and pull of his cock inside her aching channel. Her back shoved solidly against the rough door, she could not move away from his hips, even if she wanted to. All she could do was hold on, breathe and feel.

It didn’t take long for the simmering arousal she’d felt ever since the last time he’d made love to her to explode. She screamed “Risto” and then came and came and came.

Her orgasm seemed to be the signal giving him permission to come, because as she rode his hips, he threw back his head and grunted, his hands gripping her hips even more tightly, holding her to receive his seed. Even after his cum had flooded her and his hips slowed, he held her to him, riding her through the small after-spasms of her climax.

When the last of her tremors subsided, she sighed and rested her forehead on his shoulder and her arms shifted to twine around his neck.

“Let go, sweetheart.” He nuzzled the top of her sweaty hair. “We both really need that shower now.”

“I can’t.”

“Did I hurt you?” He unwound her arms and helped her to stand, his arms going around her waist to hold her against him. “God, please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“No.” She looked up, tears in her eyes. “I loved it.” She peeked up at him from under her lashes. “I was loud.” She blushed.

He chuckled. “Yeah, so was I. Don’t worry about it.” He nuzzled the top of her head.

“My
machismo
quotient probably just increased by a thousand percent with the locals.”

“I’m so glad I could help.” She winced as she looked up. Damn door bruised her back and shoulders. Bet she had splinters, too. Of course, she hadn’t felt a thing while he’d given her the best orgasm yet in their short relationship. She’d never known she would like it rough and ready.

He frowned. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” He kissed away an escaping tear.

“Just a little stiff. You get the door next time.”

“Fuck.” He started to pull her shirt off when she stopped him with a hand to his forearm.

“I’m okay. Let’s take that shower before I fall asleep standing up.” She yawned.

“I’m tired all of a sudden. I get weepy when I’m tired.” She braced her forehead against his chest. “I’m still thirsty. Can we get something else to drink?” He stroked her hair. “After our shower. Come on, let’s get you the rest of the way naked and clean.”

He unbuttoned her shirt. This time she didn’t attempt to stop him. She wasn’t sure she had the dexterity right that moment to deal with the buttons. Plus, she sensed he needed to care for her.

“You can nap in the boat, baby.”

“Okay.” She kissed his chin then stepped away to shrug off the shirt. She pulled her tank top over her head.

His worried gaze never left her as he undressed. “You got any clean clothes in that tote bag?” Risto asked as he hung his clothing on a hook by the door.

“A tank and some socks.” She looked her jeans over before she passed them to him so he could hang them with his. “I can live with these. This shirt is clean enough. Mostly I want to wash off all the sweat and then get the snake blood out of my hair.” She pulled some bottles out of her bag and a large-toothed comb.

Risto started the shower then held out his hand. “Come here, let me bathe you.”

“Yes, please.” She took his hand and stepped into the cracked but clean-looking tub/shower combination.

* * * *

Risto exited the shower room, leaving Callie to get her hair de-tangled. He took the key with him since she could unlock the door from the inside. He left the key with the desk clerk and headed for the bar. He took a seat at the end of the bar, farthest from the front entrance and with a good view of the door where Callie was. He spied several of the men in the bar watching the door and swore under his breath. There was far too much interest in Callie. Her unusual height and blonde hair would’ve attracted even a dead man’s attention in this backwater town.

He turned to Dario, the bartender and Teo’s older brother and also owner of the hotel and in a loud, carrying tone, he ordered. “A beer—and a Pepsi-Cola for my wife,
por
favor, Dario
.”

A small smile twisted his lips when the men watching for Callie’s reappearance noted his height, his muscle, and the bulge under his arm. Their attention shifted back to the soccer match, although he knew they listened for Callie. These were farmers for the most part; they wouldn’t challenge him over his wife. The guerillas he didn’t trust farther than he could throw them.

Dario placed the drinks on the bar and took the money Risto had placed there. “Your woman is beautiful. You should not have brought her here, Señor Smith.”

“Yeah, Dario, I agree. But it couldn’t be helped.” The man nodded and headed for the other end of the bar to take care of another order.

The minute Callie walked out, the tension in the place upped three levels. Every man in the place watched her long-legged, graceful walk across the width of the room. She’d left her shirt open over the tank top which hugged her full, firm braless breasts and nipples like a second skin. Her eyes were only on him, but the heightened color on her cheek bones told him she was aware of the ogling men. He snorted and shook his head.

Shit, she was used to men staring, but he didn’t have to like it.

He stood and reached for her. She walked into his arms, swayed slightly until he steadied her against him, then allowed him to button her shirt, covering some of the tempting sight. The men’s moans of disappointment could be heard over the annoying announcer of the television soccer match. She leaned into him and let him lift her by the waist and place her on the stool next to his. Nuzzling her neck, he whispered, “You’re more of a draw than the soccer match. We should charge.”

“They know what we did in there and I’m not talking about the shower. We were loud.” She laughed, her pale eyes twinkling like silver stars. “I think they’re trying to picture the act.” She was probably correct. He swept the bar with an ugly glare.

Callie snickered. “They’re only looking, Marine. Leave them alone. What did you order me to drink?” She reached for the glass in front of her, her hand trembling slightly, and took a sip. “Yum, my favorite. Can we get one to-go?” She drained the glass and carefully, almost too carefully, placed it on the counter.

He narrowed his eyes and examined her face. Under the color the orgasm had put in her cheeks, he spotted fatigue. He could kick himself for taxing her strength, but when she’d dropped to her knees and taken his cock in her mouth … no, he wouldn’t think about it. He mentally ordered his cock to stand down. She didn’t have enough reserves to go round with him again. He was a sick randy asshole.

Never looking away from her face, he called out as he took his seat. “Dario, another Pepsi and one to go for my woman.”

“Sí, señor.
”

Callie, a hand on his thigh, sighed. “Thanks for this stop—and the um, penalty for all my teasing. I needed it. I’m sorry you had to stop whe—”

“No apologies.” He removed her all-too-distracting hand from his leg and kissed the tips of her fingers before placing it on her own lap. His little brain was disappointed, but it would survive. “You’ve done a damn good job. If your dad was still around, I’d tell him what a brave daughter he raised.”

“Really?” She eyed him. After several seconds, she let out a breath. “Well, damn, you mean it. Wait until I tell my brothers, they won’t believe it.”

“Send them to me. I’ll make sure they do.” He tossed back the beer and set the bottle on the bar. “Now, finish the second Pepsi and we’ll go.” She nodded and drank the second soft drink almost as quickly as she had the first.

While not the best hydration, it was better than nothing and had the side benefits of sugar, caffeine and sodium. She then reached for the to-go cup Dario had slid onto the counter.

“I’m ready to leave.” She slipped off the stool.

Risto held her when she wobbled slightly. He pulled her in between his legs and rubbed a hand over her ass in soothing motions, a territorial claiming to the men still watching Callie. Her eyes drifted shut on a sigh. “Christ, baby, you’re ready to fall asleep standing up. Let’s get back to the boat so you can take a little nap.”

“’Kay.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Sorry, not sure why I’m tired all of a sudden.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“No. I can make it. I feel the caffeine and sugar flooding my system already.” Callie made a move to step away.

Risto placed his hand on her waist and halted her. He glared at one man whose eyes were on Callie’s firm and nicely rounded ass.
Bastard. She’s mine!
The man turned his eyes to his beer. The tension in Risto’s shoulders dissipated somewhat, but he needed to get Callie out of here before one of these men grew some steel balls. Plus, she was ready to drop no matter what she said. But they couldn’t rest here any longer, his spider senses were freaking out. They’d be safer on the river.

“Risto, what’s wrong?” She kissed the chin he’d shaved for her.

“Nothing.” He placed his arm farther around her waist, to claim and to provide support. He guided her to the door leading to the plaza. “Cross your fingers, baby, for our continued good luck.”

“I haven’t uncrossed them since we left Conn’s.”

Risto laughed and led Callie out of the bar into the sunlight and Hell.

Chapter Fourteen

Callie blinked against the brightness of the sun after the dark interior of the hotel lobby. As she gingerly stepped onto the uneven packed stone and dirt of the square, the sound of automatic gunfire sounded from above. She momentarily froze and watched as dirt and branches went flying as the crowded plaza was inundated with bullets and panic.

People shouted and screamed and dove for cover. Some men began shooting back at the men on the hotel roof, the men who had started the carnage.

Risto yelled and grabbed at her arm. Callie’s focus tunneled and all her senses fixed on the woman who’d smiled and exchanged conversation with her earlier. The older woman was on the ground, her body in a fetal position, surrounded by an ever increasing puddle of blood.

“No!” Tossing her to-go soda to the ground, she broke away from Risto’s grasping hands with a strength she hadn’t known she had. Then she stumbled the eight or nine feet separating her from the injured woman. She fell to her knees and touched the woman’s back. “
Señora?
You need to get up.” The only response to her urgent words was a pained moan.

Bullets hit near them, rock and dirt spraying them both. “Shit, shit, shit.” Her fight or flight response finally kicked in with a vengeance, fueled by adrenaline, sugar and caffeine.

Slinging her tote over her shoulder, she got to her feet and found the strength to drag the woman toward the relative safety of the hotel. Something sharp and hot hit her high on the back near her shoulder, close to where her tote’s handles lay. She ignored the stinging pain. Her arm still worked so she continued to tug the woman inch by inch as chaos surrounded them.

It seemed as if she’d been in the battle zone forever, but it could only have been mere seconds when she heard Risto yell, “Goddammit, Callie. Fucking get your ass in the hotel.” He tore her away from the woman and flung her toward the hotel. As she half-ran, half-tripped into the hotel, she sensed him on her heels, carrying the woman and shouting words which she couldn’t process above the sounds of gunfire and the frantic pounding of her heart.

“Come, come.” Dario met them at the door and pushed her ahead of him, toward the back of the bar area into the kitchen. She prayed the kitchen with its metal equipment would give them some safety from flying bullets. “Put the injured woman on the prep table,” Dario instructed Risto. “Teo called. The ELN guerillas landed. The FARC

guerillas are shooting at them. My brother has moved your boat to our mother’s house.

You know this house, yes?”

“Yeah.” Risto placed the seriously injured woman where Dario indicated then turned to locate Callie. “You okay?”

She nodded, breathing heavily. “I think so.” She glanced at the counter. “The woman needs a doctor.”

“The desk clerk is EMT-trained,” Dario told them. “He’ll see to her.” The bar owner walked to the rear of the hotel kitchen and looked outside. “It is still clear back here. You need to go. This isn’t your fight. You would be a prize for either side to ransom or…”

“Over my dead body.” Risto’s furious gaze pinned her down. “Fuck, Callie, what did you think you were doing?”