Cold Day in Hell (7 page)

“The guy in the commercial?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

Was that a hint of anger she heard in his tone? Interesting.

“That’s Evan’s Chad—and he’s gay. He hated every single second of the commercial shoot. We had to break so many times because he kept muttering rude comments under his breath which had me laughing.” She wiped tears of amusement from her face. “Man, I thought Evan was going to kill us. Chad told me later Evan made him pay big time for prolonging the shoot.”

“Well, I thought it was sexy as hell.”

“You and everyone else—except for the poor crew who had to stand around until we got it right.” She rubbed his arm. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his hands clutched the wheel so tightly she could see white appear on his knuckles. She added, “I bet you can pretend better than Chad.”
Geez, Callie, come on to the man, why don’t you? He’s here to
do a job. You’re the job.

Risto pulled into the valet area, put the car into park and turned off the engine. He turned toward her. Framing her face with his hands, he pulled her to him then whispered against her lips. “I won’t have to fucking pretend anything, Callie Meyers. You’re a sexy woman. You’ll have to set the limits here, honey, because once I start kissing you, touching you … I won’t want to stop.” He brushed a light kiss over her parted lips, once, twice.

The valet opened the driver’s side door. “You staying in the hotel,
señor
?” Risto didn’t turn toward the interruption. Instead he took her lips in a rapacious kiss, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth as if he owned it. It was a kiss unlike any other she’d ever experienced, all dominant male laying claim to his female. She wasn’t sure how long they kissed, time meant nothing as long as he kept stroking her tongue with his, as long as his fingers cradled her face, as long as his scent surrounded her. She was in big trouble, because a primal part of her didn’t want him to stop ever. And he wanted her to set the frickin’ limits?

“
Señor
?
Señora
? Do you wish me to park the car?” The valet sounded irritated and she wondered how long he’d been trying to get their attention.

Risto pulled his mouth from hers, placing a final, gentle kiss to the tip of her nose, his thumb massaging her kiss-swollen lips. “Stay put until I come around to help you out.”

She nodded, touching his lips with a finger. He nipped the tip. Yeah, there’d be no pretending with him. He was all man—and his kiss told her she wasn’t just a job, he wanted her. And she wasn’t averse to letting him have her. Screw limits.

*

Kissing Callie had been a mistake. But he planned on doing it again—and soon. She tasted sweet and hot—and had definitely kissed him back. They had a highly charged sexual chemistry unlike any he’d experienced. His priority was to get Callie out of Colombia and back to Chicago—and he would. But until then, they were both adults, and if she was willing to walk on the wild side, he’d be happy to oblige.

“We won’t need the car until tomorrow morning.” He projected his voice so the men in the lead Rover, which was now two car lengths behind theirs in the valet lane, would think he and Callie would be spending the night at the hotel. He slipped the valet twenty dollars. The man smiled and nodded.

Risto opened the passenger door and lifted Callie out. He reached in and grabbed the tote and put it over her arm. His fingers trailed over her forearm. The valet watched Callie avidly, so he hadn’t noticed when Risto added his Glock to her tote. Risto retrieved the duffle bag he’d left behind the seat, which contained his emergency evac kit.

He suspected the valet was in the pay of Cruz and would make a full report after he planted a tracking device on the Hummer.
Might as well play up to the audience.

“God, I missed you, baby. No more trips without me.” He angled his head to take Callie’s mouth in another tongue-thrusting kiss. She opened to him immediately, her free arm going around his neck as she leaned into his body, rubbing her stomach against his hard-on.
Yeah, she tastes just as good as the first time. Sweet with just a hint of spice.

Breaking away, he placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth, then spoke against the shell of her ear. “We need to take this inside.”

Stroking his jaw with a shaky finger, she nodded and placed a nibbling kiss on his chin. His cock jerked and he swept a hand over his front under the cover of Callie’s gargantuan tote and her body, nudging his unruly member into a more comfortable position. She snickered against his jaw line.
The little tease!
He placed her at his side, his arm around her waist, and her unencumbered arm went around his. They fit perfectly, just as he knew they would. They’d fit even better in bed. He maneuvered them out of the valet lane and toward the side of the building that led to her
casita
.

As they casually strolled the beautiful grounds, Callie slipped her fingers down the back of his waistband and underneath his shirt. Then she massaged his lower back and upper buttocks. “Watch it, Callie. I promised you’d be in control … but if you keep tempting me, I’ll take it as a green light.” And to hell with the danger, her touch was incendiary.

Her eyes widened. “Sorry … um…” She pulled her hand from the back of his waistband, but left her fingers lying lightly against his lower back. Her cheek bones were slightly flushed. “Define teasing.” They continued to walk as if they hadn’t a care in the world, their arms around one another.

Their unwanted shadows followed, always keeping them in sight.

“Touching me in more than a casual way.” He angled his head to look at her.

“Sticking your hand down my pants and massaging my ass is teasing.”

“Um, I thought we were supposed to convince Cruz’s men we’re lovers.”

“Was that what you were doing, Callie? Be honest.” His voice was firm as he assessed her expression. He caught a look which he read as sexual hunger in her eyes.

Good, he wasn’t the only one attracted.

“Yes … no. No. It just … shit. It felt right … okay?” She lowered her gaze to the hand clutching the tote bag. Her long hair hid her face from him, but her posture was rigid.

Dammit.
He’d embarrassed her, put her on the defensive. She’d just started to relax, getting into the role she had to play, getting over her fear of Cruz now that he was here—

now, she was stiff, upset. He could kick his own ass.

“Callie? Look at me.” She shook her head, a single tear leaked from the corner of one eye.
Shit.
Yeah, asshole, you embarrassed her. Now fix it.
“What you did … it felt fucking fantastic. I want you to touch me however you want, whenever you want, but you need to understand I’ll act on it. Right then.”

A frown marred her smooth forehead. “I arouse you that much?” She angled her head. Her gaze seemed naively curious and … she didn’t believe him!

Shit, who were the assholes she’d dated? She could arouse a dead man.

He couldn’t help it. He lowered his head and swept the single tear drop away with his tongue. She shivered and inhaled sharply. So responsive. He bet she’d make all sorts of sweet noises if he licked her from top to bottom.

“Yeah, you make me hot. Do you want me to act on this attraction between us, Callie?” He held his breath. Her response was more important to him than breathing.

“Yes.”

He exhaled roughly.
If she knew all the ways I’ve fantasized about fucking her in my
dreams, she’d run for the Ecuadoran border.
“You should have issues with me as a lover.

I’m too rough. Too dominant. Plus, I’m not a permanent kind of guy.” She examined his face for what seemed like an eternity. She nodded, one short abrupt movement of her head. “Understood. I’ll take what I can get, Risto Smith.

Whenever I can get it.”

Sweet Callie had just given him
carte blanche—
and before he got her safely back to her door in Chicago, he’d take advantage of it—fully.

Chapter Four

After they reached the door of the
casita
, Callie waited as Risto retrieved his key card and opened the door. He ushered her inside, locking and bolting the door behind them. He moved about the room checking the locks on the French doors. “Take your shower and change, Callie. Wear something casual.”

He moved to embrace her. She went into his arms and luxuriated in the solid strength of him.
Safe, I feel safe.

“Pack only essentials into that huge bag of yours.” He spoke in a low monotone against her ear.

She nodded and replied in the same tone. “Already done. I was ready to run if Cruz made his move. But I’ll add some extra socks, underwear and some tank tops. Can you block my actions from the cameras in the bedroom?”

“Yeah.” He walked her to the bedroom and stopped inside the doorway. He nuzzled her ear. “The cameras are aimed at the top of the bed, not the floors.” Her breath stuttered at the thought of what Cruz and his men must have seen.

Risto kissed her forehead and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, I’m here now. Don’t rehash the last two days. Forget the cameras. Let me worry about everything.” She kissed his jaw and stroked the back of his neck before she moved away. She dropped the tote on the floor next to the bed and casually added the items she thought she might need. She fastened the tote, then stood up with a change of clothes in her hand.

When she turned around, Risto was there, his big body protecting her from the camera.

His arms went around her waist and he rubbed his unshaven cheek against hers.

“I’m packed. You’re going to get me a handgun more my size, yes? And a knife?”

“Yes, later.” He kissed her ear. “Conn will get us anything we need. His voice increased in volume. “Let’s get cleaned up, baby, so I can feed you. The cantina I told you about has these fish tacos I’ve been craving ever since you told me about the Cartagena shoot.” He patted her bottom, his fingers lingering on her lower curves.

“Sounds yummy, tiger.” Callie took Risto’s cue and replied in the same carefree vein. She’d be damned if she allowed her rescue to fail because she hadn’t held up her end of the acting. She angled her head and kissed him, tasting him as fully as he’d tasted her in the Hummer.

He muttered “tease” against her lips and took over the kiss. Her tongue dueled with his as he savaged her mouth. She loved his aggressiveness. His hungry kisses made her pussy ache and clit throb.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss. His lips roved over her face, travelling to her neck as she arched to give him access. She moaned as he bit the juncture of her neck and shoulder then soothed it with his tongue. His hands shaped and caressed her breasts. Her nipples pebbled against the thin tank top.

“Shower. Feed me. Remember?” She gasped out the reminder while stroking the side of his jaw. She forced herself to move away from his talented hands. His heated gaze locked onto her breasts as if he were trying to decide whether or not he’d pull her back.

She took the option off the table by stepping even farther away.

He scanned her body. “If you don’t move that sweet ass, we’ll be eating in.” She smiled, then turned to walk toward the bathroom. Casting a flirtatious look over her shoulder, she put a little extra motion into her steps. With her hips undulating from side to side, she recreated the scene from the commercial he so admired. Every few steps, she’d pause, cast him a sultry look, then strip off a piece of clothing until finally she wore only skin, bikini panties and her flip-flops. The flip-flops spoiled the effect; in the commercial she’d worn jeweled stilettos. Her entire body flushed from a combination of excitement and embarrassment.

His muttered “God save me” made her smile.

Reaching the bathroom double-doors, she stopped and angled her body so he’d get a nice look at her unfettered breasts. She skimmed his body from top to bottom through narrowed eyes. “Someone is way over-dressed.” She paused, then added in her sexiest voice, “You are coming into the shower with me, aren’t you?” Risto’s nostrils flared wildly as he growled something unintelligible. His eyes glittered like black opals as he zeroed in, first on her breasts, then on her bottom, exposed by the thong she wore. When he scanned her hips, anger replaced the lust in his eyes.

Shit, I forgot the bruises.

He reached her in several long steps and swept her into his arms, cradling her easily against his chest. She twined her arms around his neck. He adjusted her more comfortably within his hold, causing his jean-covered arousal to nudge her rear end.

Risto’s tone filled with a combustible mixture of anger and lust, he muttered, “Did Cruz put those marks on your butt, Callie? What else did he do? Why didn’t you tell me?” In a louder voice, he said, “I’ll scrub your back, if you scrub mine.” He nuzzled her ear, once more speaking so softly only she could hear. “I want answers.” She turned into his lips. “Cruz touched me…”

His narrowed eyes glittered fiercely through his dark lashes. “Mere touching doesn’t cause bruises,” he whispered against her mouth.

“Okay, so he grabbed me,” she whispered harshly. “He didn’t get the chance to do anything else.”

“Fuck … just fuck.” He placed a furious kiss on her lips. “You’re mine to protect for the duration of this mission. I’ll fucking kill any man who even tries to touch you.” His snarling tone of protective dominance aroused her even more, sending goose bumps over her flesh. Most men she came across in her world were metro-sexual or gay.

God knew none of them had ever elicited this kind of primitive sexual response from her.

She petted his stubble-roughened jaw in an attempt to soothe his anger. “I didn’t strip for Cruz.” She tongued another of his scars, this one marring his jaw line. “I did it for you, Marine.” He shuddered and closed his eyes. “Let’s get cleaned up. I want out of this place.”