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I was grateful for her words and touched by them. It seemed like Callie was mellowing out a little bit. Maybe it was because she thought she was going to die because she was compassionate, but I could tell she wasn’t as antagonistic toward me as before. I sat back against the wall of the van and undid my shirt. She was right; it was starting to feel really hot in the back of the van. There was no ventilation whatsoever, and whatever had been stored in here previously had a distinctly musky smell that wasn’t very pleasant.
“So is there anything you’d want to say or do one more time before you die?” I asked her softly, wondering what she was thinking as we sat there waiting to see what was going to happen next.
“Yes,” she squeaked out and then moved closer to me. She leaned back against the wall as well and pressed her legs against mine. “It’s so hot,” she murmured, and I felt her arms moving next to me. “I need to take off my top.”
“Ooh, good idea,” I said as I undid the buttons of my shirt and threw it into the truck. I heard the sound of Callie’s top hitting the ground next to me as well. My heart was starting to thud now. Had she taken off her bra as well? “So, what is it that you’d say or do if this was the end?” I asked her as I pulled my shoes off.
“Aside from taking off my jeans?” she said as she shimmied next to me. My mouth went dry as I realized she was taking off her pants.
“That’s a good idea,” I said as I undid my pants and pulled them off. I was not sitting in the van in a pair of socks and boxers. I felt like a fool still wearing my socks, so I took them off as well. I was now sitting there in just my boxers, and my cock was as hard as a piece of granite.
“That feels slightly better,” she said, and I felt her naked, silky thigh pressed against my hairy one. Had she taken her panties off? Was she even wearing panties?
“I’m glad you’re a bit more comfortable.” I cleared my throat. “So you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Which question?” she asked softly as her finger ran up and down my thigh.
“What do you want to do before you die?”
“Make love one more time,” she said huskily, her voice breathy. Her fingers left my thigh, and I heard a slight scratching noise. “What do you think of that?” she asked and then dropped her bra into my lap. I shifted as my cock strained against the tight material. “Don’t get me wrong, I still hate you, but if I’m—”
“Shh.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned over and pulled her to me, my lips crashing into hers as her breasts crushed into my chest. She moaned against my lips as my fingers slid down her arms and past her breasts to her waist. She inhaled as my fingers searched farther downward. I had to know if she had any panties on. I was slightly disappointed to feel the soft cotton material between her legs, but as a finger slipped inside the material and rubbed her, I growled in excitement. She was wetter than the Hoover Dam. She was horny and ready to go just like me. The impromptu little lap dance had turned her on as much as me, and I loved it.
“So are you saying you want me to—”
“Fuck me, Antonio,” she whispered into my ear before biting down into my neck. “Fuck me, and make me yours again.” The words drove me crazier than I thought possible, and I yanked her panties off in one quick tug. The cotton was no match for my strength. She gasped as I pushed her down on her back, and I kissed my way down her body toward her eager pussy. My fingers played with her nipples as I made my way down. I was hungry and thirsty, and there was nothing I wanted more than to feast on Callie’s body. She was whimpering loudly as I parted her legs, and I felt her fingers on my shoulder as my tongue dipped into her sweetness.
“Oh yes, Antonio, please, please, take me!” she cried out, and all of my previous confidence flooded back to me. I was Antonio “the wolf” Marchesi. I was the man every woman wanted. And just as I’d predicted, little lamb Callie was back in my grasp. And I was going to enjoy every last second of making her mine. I was going to make her forget her name.
21
Callie
My fingernails dug into Antonio’s skin as I writhed on my back. The van floor was gritty and uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. Antonio’s tongue and fingers were more than making up for any other discomfort I felt. I knew I should feel guilty for giving myself to him, but I didn’t. I cried out as he sucked on my clit. My thighs were trembling like jelly as they clung to his face. I was a bad, bad girl, and I loved it. I was going to let Antonio make sweet love to me. I was going to allow him to “protect me” as best as he could. And I’d play scared, nervous, and unsure of myself… like the naive little lamb, he thought I was.
But I wasn’t stupid. It hadn’t taken me long to process that this kidnapping wasn’t as real as I was meant to think it was. And that was all thanks to Antonio himself. He’d been wise to have himself tied up and thrown into the back of the van with me. And at first, I truly believed that we’d both been kidnapped separately against our will. But then he’d been teasing, flirtatious, laughing, and it suddenly struck me that if Antonio “the wolf” Marchesi had indeed been kidnapped, he would have been furious. It would have taken a dozen burly men to capture him, and he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, so that he would have been bruised and beaten and bleeding heavily. He would have been banging down every wall. Cursing up a storm. Acting deadly. And he’d been none of that. In his attempt to try and be sweet to me and allay my fears, he’d overacted and forgotten to act like himself. This whole kidnapping was a ploy, a fake. I was convinced of it. I’d been about to say something to him, to tell him to go to hell, when I realized that I could play this my way. I’d pretend I believed he was in danger as well. I’d pretend to be the delicate, shy woman who was the biggest idiot on the earth. And he was arrogant and cocky enough to believe it.
“Oh fuck.” I felt close to orgasm as his tongue licked my slit clean and kissed back up my body. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sleeping with him again. My body was loving it. If there was one thing Antonio was good at, it was giving pleasure. A part of me felt like I was taking control of the situation and getting everything I wanted, though ultimately, I knew it was more complicated than that. Making love to him wasn’t punishment to him in any way, and while I’d convinced myself it was a part of my act of needing him, I knew it was more than that. I enjoyed it. In fact, I craved it. His body was a pleasure machine. And my body never wanted to be away from it. Antonio was my kryptonite.
The issue with trying to double-cross Antonio was that I was still a college senior. I didn’t know that much about the world. Everything I knew about men came from movies and books, and I hadn’t even realized my own father was lying to me. When I was young, I read the bookHarriet the Spy, and I’d always thought I’d like to be some sort of sleuth, but it wasn’t like I had those skills. I wasn’t one of those people that watched murder mysteries or cold cases and tried to solve them. I did enjoy Agatha Christie movies and books, and sometimes I even figured out who the murderer was before the end of the book, but that was just because she was a good writer and I had good deduction skills.
I knew I was playing with fire. I knew it was highly likely that I was going to get burned. But Antonio had already burned me, and I figured I didn’t have much to lose. Maybe my self-respect. But that was pretty much gone. If I was honest with myself, and all the ways that I didn’t want to be honest with myself, I was still attracted to Antonio and wanted to be with him. I knew that we were never going to be in a real relationship. We were never going to fall in love and have the sort of fairy-tale story that legends were made of.
However, maybe we could have our own porn star story. The thought made me cringe inside, but I knew that I craved him, and I wanted him, and if I was going to do this, then I was going to go all the way. I was going to get some enjoyment out of it as well. And Antonio certainly knew what to do with his fingers, tongue, and dick. “Oh my gosh,” I cried out as I felt his fingers rubbing against my clit. He growled and blew into my ear, and I felt like my body would explode. It was crazy that he could make me feel this way. He made me feel like I was someone else. He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel like a movie star from the 1940s, all glitz and glam and ethereal. And I hated it in a way. Because I knew it wasn’t real. Because I knew everything that came out of his mouth was a lie. He was still trying to manipulate me. He was still trying to make me fall for him. He was still trying to hurt me so he could hurt my father, and I had to make sure that I watched my emotions.
“Oh fuck,” I cried out as I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance. He rubbed it back and forth gently against my clit. He moved his mouth to my ear and blew into it softly and then with more gusto. I thought he was about to whisper, but he didn’t say anything. His fingers moved down to my nipples, and he pinched them lightly at first and then with more vigor.
He was grunting as he moved on top of me. His flesh was warm and hard, and there was a smell of gasoline in the air. I didn’t know why, but it turned me on even more. There was dirt on his back, and I brushed it off.
“Who do you want inside of you?” he growled into my ear as the tip of his cock teased me. I didn’t want to satisfy his ego, so I said nothing. Instead, I shifted my body so that I could move my legs up around his waist. He grunted as the tip of his dick slowly entered me. “Who do you want inside of you?” He grabbed my wrists and held them up above my head, and then I felt his hand on my throat, squeezing. I froze, suddenly wondering if he was going to strangle me. I knew some people got off on kinky sex, but I’d seen enough episodes ofLaw and Order: SVUto know that asphyxiation during sex didn’t always end well. I need not have panicked though, as his grip lessened slightly. “Little lamb…”
“Josh,” I mumbled and moaned as he withdrew from me suddenly. His tongue was in my ear and then slid down my face toward my lips. His nose was pressed against mine, and I could feel his breath against my skin. His fingers reached down and played between my legs again.
“You’ll pay for that, Callie.” He grunted as he rubbed my clit faster and faster. I could feel my orgasm building up. I was so close. I dug my nails into his back deeply. Then his mouth dipped down suddenly, and he bit my nipple. I cried out. I was so close. And then he stopped everything and just held me. I moaned and writhed against him. “Who do you want—”
“You!” I screamed, not caring about anything other than my orgasm at that moment.
“And what’s my name?”
