Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (38 page)

“Yes.”

He swallowed hard, watching the play of shadows across her body, watching her dark, lust-filled eyes. “I don’t have a condom on me.”

He saw amusement in her eyes for a split second. She reached up, trailing her fingers down across his chest.

“That’s okay,” she said, breathless.

Beau felt her urgency, understood that a nightmare had fueled this reaction in her. His mind was dissolving beneath her hands, her hips against his, making him groan. Graham’s words, “She’ll come to you when she’s ready,” pounded through his head. What he didn’t want was for her to run to him, to hide in sex from whatever was chasing her. He discounted that almost immediately as her mouth closed seductively over his, brushing against his lips, a hum of pleasure caught in her throat as he returned that kiss.

There had been many times when she’d sought his protection, a sense of safety he knew he could give her. Beau was positive that was part of her need for him. But there was something so much more, and he felt it in each turn and twist of her body against his own.

As he laid her gently on her back, her red hair spilling like a fiery cascade around her face and shoulders, he saw love glistening in her eyes. For whatever reason Callie was ready to take this final step with him. It was a precious moment filled with wonder, followed immediately by a ravenous need for her in every possible way. He wanted to plunge into her, take her and make her his, but his heart cautioned him to go slowly, to allow her to set the pace, let her tell him what she wanted and how she wanted it.

Her fingers trailed down his side, caressing his hip, wrapping softly around his erection. A deep growl emanated from his chest as he tore his mouth from hers, staring down into her languorous eyes, which were shining with her love for him. Even if Callie never whispered those words to him, Beau knew without a doubt in that molten moment that she loved him.

She smiled as he leaned down, kissing her exquisite collarbones, feeling her respond, hearing those little sounds of pleasure that spurred him on. As he drew closer to her breast, he cupped it with one hand, feeling the soft weight of it in his palm, how well it fit there, that taut peak begging for attention. Capturing it with his lips, he suckled her, feeling her tense, a small cry tearing out of her, hips thrusting against his.

Yes, she was ready for this, and he could feel the quiver moving through her. He lifted his head, finding the other nipple, giving it equal attention, and she started to come apart in his arms, her fingers slipping from around his erection. A powerful surge of desire tunneled through Beau, along with an overwhelming need to love Callie. She had been through so much and had toughed it out within herself for so long. He could feel her reaching out, encompassing him, drawing him to her on every level.

Her breathing was ragged, her leg pulling against his, guiding him over her. He lifted his mouth from that nipple and eased between her opening thighs, kissing the center of her firm, well-muscled torso. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pushing him downward, and he liked her assertiveness.

Nestling his mouth against her curls, the scent of her sex a perfume to his nostrils, kissing her, teasing her, he slid his fingers down her left thigh, easing her open even more. Now she was utterly vulnerable to him. Callie was panting, calling his name, moaning, pushing her hips up toward his mouth as he moved his tongue through those saturated curls.

There were so many ways to love a woman, and Beau knew them all. As he slid his fingers through her wet folds, she cried out. So slippery, her body was more than ready to receive him. Easing forward, his body covering her, she locked her legs around his, pulling his erection toward her entrance, and he allowed her to guide him.

He settled across her damp body, felt her pounding heart against his chest, the sweet tightness of her nipples dragging through the sprinkle of dark hair across his chest. Sliding his hands around her face, his fingers tangling in her silken hair at her temples, he stared down into her half-opened eyes, which burned with starvation for him. He felt it. He saw it. Everything was perfect. Right.

He nudged his hips forward, his erection moving into the slickness of her waiting entrance. Callie’s eyes shuttered closed, a low moan tearing from between her kiss-swollen lips, hips arching to meet him.

He held her prisoner beneath him, feeling her wantonness, her wetness spilling over him as he slowly moved into her, grimacing as her tightness gripped him. Over and over, he told himself to go slow and to introduce himself to her body.

Callie had chosen to trust him with her deepest feelings, her strongest needs, even after nearly being raped by the Taliban. As the heat of that realization soared through his soul, wrapping around his heart, he slid deeper into her, hearing that sigh of profound pleasure.

Gritting his teeth, Beau felt her body shift, tighten, and then accept him as her juices spilled around him. The slow, rhythmic movement of her hips against his, the way she gripped his upper arms, her back arching upward, wanting all of him in her, exploded through his wariness of possibly hurting her by accident. Beau could never live with that. Callie had been hurt enough. He didn’t need to be a raging bull out of control right now. And it was a special hell he resided in because he was allowing her to reacquaint herself with him on every level. There was such sweetness in it that he felt his pounding heart weld the love he had for her even more deeply into himself as she wrapped her strong legs around his hips.

Callie had always been brave, even under fire, and she was brazen as a woman, confident with her femininity. There was no holding back on her part, just utter enjoyment, the bliss now shining in her soft expression, her eyes closed, the corners of her mouth lifting upward with satisfaction as he rocked deeply into her, taking her, sweeping her along as he felt her shift. And then she surrendered to him in every way, blasting whatever reserve existed between them both. And all the love he felt for her rushed through him, breathless and filled with the knowing that he could complete himself only with her.

His brow was damp, face tight with fighting for control, fighting not to come until he’d fulfilled Callie. He could feel her body starting to spasm, felt her juices surround him, her channel gripping him so tightly he groaned. With each thrust, he pushed more deeply into her. He silently thanked all those years of belly dancing for Callie’s ability to milk his body, move so sensuously with his that it felt they’d fused utterly with one another. His fingers tightened against her scalp and he heard her breath hitching, felt powerful contractions surround him.

Beau knew she was going to come. Pumping powerfully into her, reaching that spot deep within her, he heard her cry out, her fingers gripping his biceps, her body spasming against his.

Beau wasn’t prepared for the twist and feminine power of her hips slamming into his as Callie reached an orgasm. He used his strength to continue to plunge into her, teasing her sweet body, giving her those delirious cries of release, feeling her hands knead deep into his shoulders. And just as she started to wane, started to relax just a little afterward, he allowed himself to spill hotly into her small, tight confines.

He gripped her hair, his brow against her own, breathing harshly, teeth clenched as the heat spiraled up his spine and then slammed down through it. The release made him grunt, and he sucked air in between his teeth as she responded, her hips drawing him deep into her, holding him, draining him of everything he had stored up for so long.

Callie swam in a cauldron of heat, lights flashing behind her closed eyelids as she continued to feel tidal waves throughout her lower body. They were fused to one another, Beau a heavy, warm blanket against her, making her smile with gratification. She slid her fingers up and over his taut shoulders, his breath warm against her breasts, his fingers tangled within the strands of her hair as he lay frozen in pleasure above her.

All this time, she had waited for him and wanted him. Her head had told her it was too soon—she needed to heal—but her heart told her it was past due. Maybe it was a sign of her continuing to heal from the trauma? It felt like it to Callie. She gloried in Beau’s damp male body against her own, felt comforted by his arms around her shoulders, drawing her against him, kissing her hair, her temple, her cheek, and finally, his mouth caressing her lips.

Their breaths mingled and their chests rose and fell with exquisite synchronicity. Everything about Beau, from his hard, lean body capturing hers to his tenderness as he continued to kiss each eyelid, her nose, her brow, made her slide into a wordless oblivion where only their hearts ruled and embraced one another. And finally, she was truly home.

C
allie slept afterward
in Beau’s arms. It was a dreamless sleep, and when she awoke, she felt Beau stir, sensing she was awake. Outside, dawn was sluggishly breaking the hold of the dark winter sky. Her body hummed with satisfaction. It felt so wonderful to have him holding her, the hard warmth of his body against her own. She lay with her head on his shoulder and made a soft sound of contentment.

Beau moved, propping himself up on one elbow. He kept the blankets around her because the room was chilly.

She met his sleepy eyes, seeing the renewed hunger in them, knowing he wanted to make love to her again. That was obvious with his erection thickening once more against her hip. “It’s Christmas Eve,” she said, her voice thick and drowsy.

“And you’re the greatest gift I’ve ever received, sweet woman’.” Beau leaned over, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Languishing in the tender strength of his mouth sliding against her own, Callie closed her eyes, curving her arm across his torso, holding him close to her. He smelled so wonderful to her, that special scent that was only him. Beau’s fingers moved slowly through the strands of her mussed hair. Her heart burst open with such fierce love for this man, for his patience with her, his understanding that she was still working through the most major trauma in her life. And he was here, just when she needed him most. He was loving her, caring for her, giving her a safe harbor when she so desperately needed one. As he eased from her lips, she saw fulfillment in his shadowy gray gaze as he studied her in the silence.

“This is a Christmas I’ll never forget,” he told her, and she saw a sheen of moisture in his eyes.

She smiled and slid her fingers across his cheek, feeling the stubble of beard beneath them. “Me either.” Slowly, Callie sat up and tucked the blankets around her waist, holding Beau’s gaze. He was all male, an animal lurking just beneath his skin, a consummate hunter, and the perfect lover for her.

“I talked to my grandpa yesterday morning while you were busy,” she confided.

“Oh? About what?” Beau was finding that her grandfather, more than her surgeon father, was her go-to confidant.

“About my life. What I’m going to do with it. I know my grandpa was in the Marine Corps overseas, but that’s all I know. I can talk to him about my feelings—I guess the PTSD, as he referred to it, that I got because of the ambush. He was asking me a lot of questions.”

Beau suppressed a smile. Good for Graham! “Like what?” he asked, moving his hand across her warm lower belly.

“He asked what makes me happy and what I see myself doing for the next year of my life. That made me think about where my passion lies.”

“He’s a heavy hitter with questions,” Beau said, seeing the serious light in Callie’s eyes. “And he goes for the jugular.” In more ways than one, but Beau would keep the man’s past a secret even from her. If Graham ever wanted to divulge his life as a sniper to Callie, it would have to come directly from him.

“He’s always been that way,” Callie said. “I love him so much. He always tells me he has my back, and I know he does.” She slanted Beau a glance. “I swear, you two were twins separated at birth and sent to different families, you’re so much alike.”

Chuckling a little, Beau said, “I like him a lot. He’s reliable, honest, and operates from common sense. He reminds me a lot of my pa, as a matter of fact. Those two would get along like a couple of horse thieves.”

Laughing, Callie said, “I love all your country sayings.”

“I grew up with ’em,” he said with a shrug. “So tell me, how did you answer his questions?” He watched as her expression changed and she grew serious.

“My family has always wanted to serve those who have less than we do,” she began quietly. “When I was eighteen, I signed up with the Hope Charity because they were in a lot of third-world countries. I wanted to make a difference. I got sent to Afghanistan for five years straight and loved what I did for the orphanage over there. I loved every one of those children.”

Beau saw her eyes grow sad and he reached out, lacing his fingers through hers. “And then real life intruded,” he said softly.

“Did it ever,” Callie said, her throat constricting, shaking her head. Her fingers curved around his. “I asked Grandpa if he’d ever had a trauma like this hit him when he was in the Marine Corps. He said yes, it had. I asked him if he quit the Marine Corps because of it.” She chewed on her lower lip, looking away from Beau for a moment, battling her emotions. Finally, she met his gaze. “He said he wouldn’t tell me what happened to him over there, but that it wasn’t something he ever wanted to do again. He decided at that point not to make the Marine Corps his career. He got out at and came home to run the ranch. He’s at peace, he told me. And he’s happy here doing ranching and doesn’t regret his decision.”

Beau knew about that particular black ops mission at the refinery in Kuwait, and he understood Graham’s decision. Snipers lived a very different life compared to the normal grunt in the trenches. And there wasn’t a month that went by that he didn’t see every man he’d killed in combat. “Well,” he said gruffly, “everyone has that line in the sand, Callie. If it gets crossed, then I think everyone stops and takes stock of where they’re at. That’s when you decide what you want to do with your life, and you hit one of those lines.”