Cold Day in Hell (35 page)

What woman wouldn’t want a man like you?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Lots of them. But I’m sure as hell lucky I found the one woman who wanted me as I am. I’m not sure I could change.”

“As I said before, you don’t need to.”

“Well, you might want to domesticate me somewhat before the baby arrives.” He chuckled. “If we have a little girl, I can’t see her wanting to play survival games during playtime.” Callie giggled. He arched a brow. “What?”

“Um, Keely and I used to take our Barbies and dress them in GI Joe outfits and play war with them in the sandbox. I just had an image of you on the floor, playing war-dolls with a little girl with your hair and my eyes.”

He grinned. “I like that image. A lot.”

“So do I.”

Risto crowded her against the counter. His thick erection pulsed against her stomach, branding her with his heat. Her knees grew weak at the memory of how his cock filled her tight channel as he’d born her weight and taken her against the door in Ungaía. His strong hands, calloused from years of shooting and fighting, smoothed up and down her arms, creating an exciting friction which went straight to her clit. She clung to his waist as arousal swept over her. His hips circled, rubbing his hard-on against her. Her womb clenched and her panties got wetter. He slipped a hand under her sweater and deftly unhooked her bra. If she didn’t stop him, he’d take her against the counter. And as much as she would like that, she felt icky and wanted a shower and then a bed for their first encounter since Colombia.

Rubbing her cheek over his chest, she eyed the items yet to be put away. She shoved at his waist in an attempt to put some distance between their lower bodies. He didn’t budge. “Hold that thought, tiger … the milk is getting warm. Let’s get this stuff put away so I can take a shower before we take this to our bed. I’ve been in these clothes for almost twenty-four hours. I smell like sweat and stale bus air.” He leaned over and nipped her earlobe. “You smell like my Callie.” He sighed.

Visibly controlling his ardor, he moved away. “But a shower with me to assist sounds fun.” He swept a finger over one beaded nipple poking against her sweater. “I recall our last shower with great fondness.” He leaned down and took the perked tip into his mouth and suckled it through the thin wool of her sweater.

“I’d love your assistance.” She also recalled the showers she’d previously shared with him with great fondness and a lot of lust. “Don’t get my hair wet, mister. It takes forever to dry, and I don’t want to go to bed with wet hair.” He saluted. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am. Your wishes are my wishes.” He picked up a bunch of vegetables and walked to the refrigerator.

She handed him the cottage cheese Big Earl had suggested and the milk. “You’ll be going to bed with me?”

“Until Conn calls.” He grinned. “Plus, I plan on doing more than going to bed. You requested some love-making, if I recall. I think you need me to relax you so you can get a good rest.”

Callie snorted. “Is that what you’re calling sex now? Relaxation? So, any time you think I need relaxing, you’ll make love to me?”

He laughed. “There’s that attitude I love.” He flicked the tip of her nose with a gentle finger. “Your nose wrinkles up so cute when you sniff at me.” She passed him some fresh fruit. “Answer the question.”

He leaned over to kiss her. “Quality sex—my love-making—is better than muscle relaxants.”

Callie’s nipples budded even more tightly. “I recall it working at Conn’s house.”

“Yeah, and just think, I can put you to sleep that way for the rest of our lives.” He cupped her breasts and stroked his thumbs across her aching nipples. “You know the nicest thing about quality sex with me, Callie?”

“There’s an unlimited supply and it’s free?” She shoved a bag of shredded lettuce into his chest, forcing him to let go of her breasts in order to catch it. If he didn’t stop teasing her, she’d drop to her knees and put her mouth on his cock. Turn-about teasing was fair play.

“Well, those are good things, but I was thinking more along the lines of quality sex is also the best way to wake up in the morning.” He shot her a wicked glance as he shut the refrigerator door.

“My goodness,” she said with mock reverence. “You mean sex is both an upper and a downer?”

“It’s all in the technique.” He held out a hand. “That’s the last of the groceries, Callie. Let’s get you in the shower. I’ll reset the security then join you.” She placed her hand in his. “Lead on. I can’t wait to see the master bedroom and bath. If they’re anything like the main living areas, I’ll think I’ve died and gone to interior decorating heaven.”

Risto raised their joined hands to his lips. “I love having you here, Calista Jean Meyers. I love the fact you’re carrying my child. I worship and adore you. And if ever a day goes by and I forget to tell you, kick my ass.”

Tears streamed down Callie’s cheeks. “Those have to be the nicest words anyone has ever said to me.”

He let go of her hand and placed his arm around her waist and walked her into a huge bedroom with another beautiful view of the lake. But it was the bed which drew a gasp from her. It was a king-size, four-poster made of black iron. The four posts, headboard and footboard had intricate metal work depicting mountains, trees and animals native to North America. It was a dramatic piece of art. The woven bedspread, just like all the woven area rugs in the house, probably belonged in a museum.

They walked toward the bed. “Like it?” He rubbed her waist.

She traced the metalwork. “This is exquisite. Who made it?”

“My maternal grandfather. His metal pieces are in museums. My maternal grandmother wove the bedspread—and all the area rugs. The bedspread reminds me of your coat.”

“I bought the coat in Canada from a museum shop on a reservation.” She stroked the woven cover; the weave was so fine it felt like satin. “This bedspread is worth a small fortune. I’m almost afraid to sleep under it, what if I get sick…”

“Callie, my grandmother made the spread for me to sleep under with my wife. It’s not a museum piece here. It’s our bedspread on our marriage bed. It will wash.” She nodded. “Um, Big Earl said you never brought women here…” She couldn’t voice her question. She wasn’t sure she really wanted or needed to know the answer.

“Callie.” He tipped up her chin. “Open those gorgeous eyes and look at me.” She did as he asked and saw love and understanding in his gaze. “I’ve had a lot of women over the years—and they meant nothing to me beyond immediate sexual satisfaction. No other woman has slept in that bed, under that blanket. This house was my refuge. No other woman has ever stepped inside the house other than Old Annie, my cleaning lady. You are the only woman who will ever sleep in that bed with me.” She swallowed and opened her mouth to say something. He stopped her words with his mouth. Once he’d kissed her into silence, he continued, “Let’s clear the air about a few other things. You’re fairly inexperienced. Our few times together, I’ve been pretty dominant and at times rough. I can’t change my nature and you’ve not asked me to, but, baby, if I ever do anything…”

“Shh, Marine.” It was her turn to cut him off; she covered his mouth with her fingers.

“It’s my turn to clear some things up.” His eyes crinkled with laughter and his lips curved into a wide, natural smile under her fingertips. He nodded. “Okay, I like you in control sexually.” His nostrils flared at her words, his fingers tightened briefly where he held her chin. “You make me feel wonderful. And, I’m sure you can make me feel a lot better as we explore our sexual needs together. I’m not a prude and am open to learning from your experience.”

He groaned, his high cheekbones flushed red with his arousal. He moved her fingers from his mouth. “Callie…”

“Enh, I’m not done.” He nipped her lower lip in a mock punishment and rubbed his cock against her lower body. “I also like that you’re possessive and protective of me in certain situations outside of the bedroom. It might not be a popular feminist viewpoint, but it’s mine. As long as you respect my intelligence and capabilities, I have no issues giving control over to you in dangerous situations. If you go all cave man when I don’t think I need it, I’ll let you know.”

Laughing, Risto hugged and rocked her within the circle of his arms. “Does that mean I can tie you to our bed some day and give you so many orgasms you’ll beg me to take you?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Callie moaned. “God, yes. I think I just had a mini-orgasm thinking about it.” She peered up at him. “But no sadistic shit.”

“God, sweetheart, I’m not a sadist. I’d never mar an inch of you. I like to make my women scream with pleasure and then take my own—again and again. I’ve found bondage heightens the pleasure for some women. I enjoy giving a woman more pleasure than she thinks she can handle.”

“All that pleasure giving of yours is mine now.”

“I’m definitely a one-woman man from now on. My maternal grandparents had a happy fifty-year marriage. I heard rumors grandfather was pretty kinky and my grandmother loved it.” He winked.

“They’re dead?”

He nodded. “Grandfather went first, massive stroke. Grandmother lived for a few more months and then died. Of grief. She told me she couldn’t live in a world without him, so she literally willed herself to die and joined him in the next life.”

“That’s the way it would be with me. I know after the last two months, I don’t want to live in a world without you.”

“I feel the same way, sweetheart.” He brushed a kiss over the top of her head. Patting her on the butt, he moved her toward a set of double doors. “Now, let’s get you in the shower.”

* * * *

Entering the bedroom, he heard the steam shower and imagined Callie naked, enjoying the wet heat. No worries about there being enough hot water for the shower sex he wanted, he had put in a state-of-the-art, hot-water-on-demand system. He walked to the bathroom, stripping his clothing as he went. Naked, he opened the glass doors to the huge shower with its multiple heads and jets and steam vents.

Callie sat on the built-in bench, her towel-wrapped head braced on the tile wall and her long, perfectly curved and deliciously naked body stretched out on the bench. Her eyes were closed and a slight smile curved her lips.

“What are you staring at? You’ve seen me naked before.” She opened her eyes. They glittered like silver gems under the shower’s indirect lighting. Her gaze covered him quickly, zeroing in on his erection. She licked her lips.

Yeah, I want those beautiful lush lips on me, baby.
He hadn’t let her finish him in Ungaía, he’d been too eager to enter her pussy.

“I’ve never seen you this rosy pink before.” He nudged her legs to the floor of the shower and sat next to her. He stroked a finger along her neck, down the middle of her chest to her belly button, then into the neatly trimmed triangle of blonde curly hair above her sex. He stopped there, swirling his fingertip through the silky curls. “You were waxed before, but I like this better.” He traced her labia and found them free of hair. She whimpered with each stroke of his finger, her hips arching as if begging for more. “Oh, yeah, I like this a lot.” She’d be so easy to eat out, sensitive, but with the feminine curls pointing the way.

“Risto,” she encircled his cock with her hand, “do I finally get to suck you?” Gripping him tightly, just the way he liked, she pumped his cock slowly, her thumb sweeping over the tip each time she reached the top.

He covered her hand with his and pulled it away. “Hell, yeah, I want your mouth on me, Callie. But only if you’re up to it.”

She immediately dropped to her knees and in between his legs. She took his cock back into her hand and swiped a gentle thumb over the small drop of precum oozing from his slit, then licked the moisture from her thumb. “Yummy.” Fighting the urge to thrust into her mouth, he forced himself to lean against the tile wall. He searched her face for any signs of discomfort or illness. “Callie? You sure? You were so tired earlier … we don’t…”

She tightened her hand around his steel-hard length. “Oh, yes, we do.” She licked at his cockhead daintily like a momma cat licking a kitten. Every third lick or so, she swiped the taste of him from her lips with her tongue and hummed. Her eyes had darkened to slate gray with lust. “I’m fine. This time you come in my mouth. You stopped me in Ungaía.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He caressed her face as she balanced his balls in one hand and her other held onto his cock. “Yeah, take the edge off, baby. I want to last forever when I’m inside you.”

She sighed. “I want that too. I love the feel of you in my pussy. I’ve dreamt about it.

I’ve been so empty, so cold without you.”

“No more dreaming. You’re with me now and I’ll never let you go again.” He angled his head and nodded toward the hand caressing his dick. “You plan on teasing me forever? Or, are you going to put those sexy lips around my dick and make me cum?” Callie looked at him, worry in her expression. “What’s wrong?” He tipped her chin up. “Tell me.”

“I don’t have much … well, not really any … just one time … um, I want to do it right.” She scrunched her nose. “I’m pretty A-type.”

He chuckled. “Well, sweetheart, from a guy’s point of view, it’s pretty hard to mess up a blow job. Biting is about the only way I know of. Although there are guys, myself included, who get off on a scrape of teeth when highly aroused. Men just like a pretty girl’s mouth on them—anywhere.”