Blackout

Chapter 11

Imaia Island

Max

Present

“I told you to wait in the car,” said Callan slowly, not worried at all, almost as if we were talking about the weather and I wasn’t held at gunpoint. I frowned and tried to test my captor’s restraint but he pulled tighter on my hair, making me hiss in pain. s**t, I was really getting tired of this. I took one moment to study the situation. 

We were all cramped inside a small circular room with wooden walls and a hardened mud floor. There were no windows, no way of escaping except for the front door..which was the only door in the house. Callan seemed to own the space. There was just something about his height and strong body that made the place feel even smaller. At his feet there was a small cot that looked old and stained. Over it was my patient, looking sick and pale. The fever had kicked in which meant his body was fighting an infection. I cursed under my breath trying to reach him but my assailant pushed me back, holding the gun harder against my head.

“Let me go asshole! That kid needs help!” I screamed at the stupid man holding me, one I hadn’t even seen his face but knew for a fact smelled like fried food and too much alcohol. The guy laughed, tapping my head with his gun as if we were playing a game of some sort.

“Nauh puta,” he said, breathing too close to my ear and making me feel nauseous. The man kissed my head, making me think about all the different shampoos I would be using to erase his scent from my hair once this was all over. He kissed my hair again, “Aquí nadie hace nada. Ese muchacho sabe mucho y no se va con vos.”

“¡Se va a morir si no lo ayudo!” I said in Spanish, again wrestling against the arm he had used to cover my middle. He is going to die if I don’t help him. And that was the truth. The boy looked way too pale and the discoloration in his lips hinted to possible dehydration, which wasn’t a good sign for his kidneys if his body was battling an infection. I squirmed again, trying to reason with my captor, “Do you want him to die?”

“Me da igual, puta,” said the man, making me feel so angry that I pushed back with my shoulders to try to escape him. It was then when I saw Callan move. Everything happened too fast and I only caught the sight of his strong shoulders when he crouched down, drawing a knife out of one of his pockets and aiming it straight to my captor’s leg. The scream at my back almost rendered me deaf but Callan was right there, immobilizing the man with two forceful moves and tying his hands with a hand towel he got from the floor. Once the threat was neutralized he took the weapon, took out the bullets and then called over the radio for his men.

“Report: one civilian hurt and bleeding. Over,” there was static and right away I heard the voice of Captain Connor over the feedback.

“Report: We are on our way. Over,” I had half a mind to ask how the hell Connor only needed that medicum amount of information to know exactly what he needed to do and where he was needed, but decided against it and moved fast to the boy. I checked his temperature first and exactly as I feared he was burning with a high fever. His vitals looked stable enough but I would need some blood exams to be completely sure his numbers were encouraging for a fast recovery. Callan and I ignored the screams of pain coming from the guy who had attacked me and instead moved together to transport the boy to Callan’s humvee.

“I can help,” I offered, trying to at least help Callan to move the boy’s legs but he only shook his head at me, lifting a hand to keep me away while he took the boy in his arms and carried him easily, almost as if the boy weighed nothing. I rolled my eyes at Callan, “come on, I can help you.”

“You have helped enough,” he said, his tone clipped.

“What does that even mean?” I asked angrily and Callan stopped on his way out the house, a nerve pulsing at his jaw and his eyes darker than before. He looked bigger than life right then, all hard angles, dressed in his uniform and carrying a boy that needed his help. Against any logic I felt my stomach tighten and my heart beat faster. This was not the moment nor the place, but I couldn’t help to feel irrevocably attracted to that imposing man. Badly. As I’d never ever wanted any other man before.

“It means what it means,” he said cuttingly, “We will talk later, Dr. Cruz.”

Dr. Cruz...the distinction was like cold water splashing me in the face. Right, this was not the right place to fight and I could tell that was exactly what we would end up doing if we talked right then. I moved after him fast, running to the car and preparing some room for the boy on the back seat. I was already starting him up with some rounds of antibiotics to fight his fever when the sound of big engines coming closer made me look over my patient and to the end of the street. Sure enough three gigantic hummers were making their way over to us. Callan made his way inside the house and returned with the man that was still bleeding and crying. It wasn’t a mortal wound so I could wait a little to treat him. Yeah, the bastard deserved it.

Connor and the other guys jumped into action the moment they reached us. Jordan took my attacker and guided him to the back of a car right away while the others moved inside the house, armed to their teeth. Callan and Connor interchanged some words that ended with Connor nodding and giving a military salute and then Callan was jogging back to our car. I swallowed nervously while I watched him run. He didn’t need to be without a shirt for me to know that he was more muscular than any of the soldiers that I’d seen running this morning. And there was this thing he did, running his fingers through his short hair… s**t, why was that so hot? It made me want to touch his hair and check if it was as soft as it looked.

“Are you coming?” he asked me when he reached the car and I felt myself blush. I looked down and then back at him, feeling strangely naked and obvious. 

“What?”

“To check on the wounded bastard,” he said, his eyes helding no emotion but his hands fisting angrily at both sides of his body, “If you don’t want to…”

“No, no, I need to check on him,” It was my duty to do so. Regardless of the fact he had threatened and held me at gunpoint. A patient was always a patient. I nodded, grabbing my medical bag and going after him. The guys nodded when I passed them in order to reach my new patient. I realized I hadn’t paid him much attention before but now I did. The man had a good build, almost as if he exercised some days of the week, but not even close to the level of Callan and his men. He had brown skin and slanted eyes, with very defined features that hinted at some sort of Asian descendancy.

The moment I put on new gloves and tried to touch him he kicked with his other leg, as if to hurt me out of spite. Callan was on him so fast that I didn’t even see him moving. With one move Callan stopped his leg before it could connect with me and then punched him hard on the face. It was only one hit but the man’s eyes rolled back and he lost his consciousness at once. I looked up to Callan and he looked down at me, his shoulders tense and his eyes now darker.

“What? Do you need him to be awake or something?” I smirked but knew better than to say anything right then. Instead I focused on working. I couldn’t take the blade out of the wound on a dusty road in the middle of a village, that would condemn him to death. The weapon would need to be removed surgically and had some blood transfusions ready for him. He was going to bleed a lot, and he deserved it. I did my best to numb the area and neutralize his leg in a makeshift cast. That would have to do until we reached the medical unit.

“He is ready!” I yelled, tapping the car once and waving a hand at Jordan, who would be driving the assailant back to the camp.

Callan took my hand then, guiding me back to his car and all the way inside of the passenger seat. He stopped me from moving by placing one hand on my shoulder and then touched my head, his long fingers palping for some bump or wound. His touch was gentle, not what I would have expected from a Major of the army. I smiled a bit, liking that he had remembered to check on me even if nothing had happened. His gray eyes lowered, staring at my smile with a grave expression marking his face.

“Do you think this is funny?” I shook my head at once.

“No. I’m fine Callan,” I said and he slipped his fingers through my hair, still touching and looking for possible wounds. I rolled my eyes at him, “Callan, I’m fine.”

“That’s for me to decide,” I knew he was angry. Jesus it was impossible not to know and I needed to fix the situation. After all, he had saved my life. Again.

“I know you are…” he closed the door of the car, stopping me from saying anything. I was angry at him by the time he sat by my side and started the car. How dared him  leave me speaking alone? The nerve of the man! We drove in silence, both of us ignoring the other’s presence the best we could. By the time we reached the medical unit it was already late afternoon. Luckily for me Nathan and Rosie were still working their shift and jumped into action the moment I arrived with a new patient to take care of.

It took two hours to remove the knife and neutralize the wound. Three blood transfusions and thirteen stitches later and the man was stable. Not that any of the doctors felt very sympathetic about his state after hearing what he had done to me. We could treat him, but liking him was another different thing. The boy was sleeping when I went to his room to check on him. Sleeping was good and his coloring looked promising enough. We would need to check on him every two hours and make sure he didn’t escape this time around. 

By the time I was done it was late and I’d completely forgotten to go to eat dinner. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything. Surely at breakfast. Yes. I’d had breakfast but I couldn’t quite remember…I looked ahead and stilled when I saw Callan waiting by the end of the hall. His gray eyes were focused on me, almost challenging me to go and walk in any other direction. I had every intention to ignore him and walk away but the arbitrary arch of his eyebrow irritated me. Why did I need to be the one to walk away? He was the one that clearly had a problem. He was moody and brooding. I tried to talk to him back in the village and he had thrown the car door in my face. He could kiss my ass for all I cared.

I squared my shoulders and walked faster, my intentions to pass him were very clear by the way I looked away, not trying to slow down. Callan moved only two steps. That was all he needed. One and he had me by my arm. Two and the door of the medical equipment was open and he was closing it at my back. I tried to move away but Callan was faster again. He pushed my white robe down, using the long sleeves to immobilize my arms at my back. When I tried to kick him he placed his hand over my knee, moving way too close to my personal space. I was panting when he moved his head down, staring me in the eyes.

“When I tell you to stay in the car, you stay in the car. What you did was beyond stupid and it could have costed your patient’s life. You don’t disobey my orders, not ever. Do you understand?” he asked me angrily, his green-gray eyes moving back and forward while he drilled the point home, tightening his hold and forcing me to crane my neck up and look at him, “this time I want an affirmative, Dr. Cruz.”

I was panting. And hot. And we were way too close. All of my body could feel all of his. I was wearing only my underwear under my scrubs and it felt too tight on my skin. Even my breasts felt hard against the cups of my bra. I was getting wet between my legs, which was a first. Everything about Callan Jameson was a first.  This was beyond ridiculous. I should be trying to escape or kick him in the balls. Yes, I would be doing just that any moment now. Any moment now...Callan moved closer, letting me get well acquainted with the muscular wall of his chest and the large bulge of his erection. I tried to close my legs and get some friction but he stopped me, his hand moving up, stilling my hips in a firm grip.

His touch was reassuring, letting me know that he was right there with me, feeling all the maddening sensations I was feeling. His erection pulsed and we both moved our hips, seeking any friction. Only the sound of my desperate breathing reminded me that this was wrong. Breathing like that could never be right. Right? Our bodies moved in synchrony, as if we had danced a million songs together. This chemistry between us was insane, I’d never felt anything like it. I moved again, arching my back and he circled his hips, letting me feel the erection marking his uniform.

“An affirmative, Dr. Cruz,” he said hoarsely, in a voice that sounded a couple of decibels deeper than before. s**t, that voice of his would be my undoing. It will be, absolutely, because even I knew he wasn’t quite asking for an affirmative about the entire attack fiasco. He was asking me for permission to take from me and maybe I was crazy, maybe I wasn’t thinking straight but it made sense to let him do whatever he wanted to me right then. I nodded, licking my lips a little, tasting the hot air between us with my tongue.

“Yes...yes, Major Jameson…” I didn’t need to say anything else. He took control over my body with the same ease with which he threw knives and drove military humvees. His large hand opened over my ass and held on tightly, as if he couldn’t have enough of it. The possessive touch forced me to arch my back wider and pushed my breasts against his chest.  Callan followed my mouth hungrily, his greenish eyes closing right before he kissed me, extracting a moan out of my very soul. His tongue curled sensually inside of my lips and then he was licking my own tongue, until I opened my mouth wider and let him explore the depth of a kiss that owned me completely. Damn him, but he was a good kisser. Callan knew exactly how to stroke me, how to caress my lips, paying special attention to my lower one, as if he wanted to live eternally in it and kissed it to the end of the times.

I whimpered, too damned aroused, too lost to know where I was or why this was bad. I shouldn’t be doing this with Callan in the equipment room, I really shouldn’t, but then he lowered his big hand and cupped my p***y, hard, possessively, while nibbling at my lower lip. I moaned inside of his mouth and then he was back , kissing me hungrily, like a starved man. His fingers started playing with the knot that tied my pants together. I couldn’t understand how he could be kissing me so desperately and still be so gentle with his hand. It took me a whole minute of kissing him hungrily to remember that I was a virgin and he was being careful, going slow in case it became too much for me.

“Callan please…” I moaned and he grunted some sort of answer that didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t sure what I was asking from him. I needed him, that was all I understood. s**t, we were both losing our minds. His hand finally reached inside and the moment it was free he cupped me again, this time making me gasp and shake like a leaf in the wind. Jesus, it felt so good. His hand, pressing down on my c**t and the heat of his fingers. I started panting, feeling close. I was so damn close to coming. I trembled, resting my forehead against his chest and moaning harder. 

“Damn you woman…” he cursed me, feeling my hot flesh right against his fingers. I was wet. No, scratch that. I was dripping and he could feel it. Slowly he used his thumb to trace the hooded button that could make me come. I shook harder and he kissed my head, murmuring encouraging words, “Shh firecracker. I will take care of you. I will make it better...Shh, don’t pull back baby, you need this. Just like that, open baby, shh shh...I got you, just like that…”

It was embarrassingly easy and perfect and it only took two flicks of his thumb for me to come apart in his arms. I came so hard that my tremors shook the shelves on the walls. I’d never had an orgasm like that. Sure, I’d m*********d before but it had never been like that. The sensations were only strengthened by Callan in a way that I would never be able to replicate on my own...or with anybody else, for that matter. It was his smell, goddammit, and the way his arms held me as if I weighed nothing. And the feel of his calloused fingers, opening my folds and exploring me desperately and gently at the same time. And the way he knew exactly how much I needed, how hard, how soft. My p***y was clenching hungrily for him and Callan could feel it. The tip of one his fingers covered my entrance, almost as if he had every intention to push in and feel my bare canal, spasming for his c**k.

I wanted him badly, but when our eyes met, his face darkened and he looked pained in a way I’d never seen before. I’d seen many men in pain during my career, but the strain in his eyes and the tightened line of his lips suggested he was hurting probably as badly as I wanted him inside of me. I looked down at his erection, which was pulsing and throbbing, completely out of control inside of his pants.

“Do you...I don’t…” he shook his head, taking a step back and running a hand down his short hair. Callan’s shoulders were so tense that I could visualize all the compressed vertebrae around his spinal cord. His body, that amazing body that had been pressed against me was pulled tight and I was at fault. He had prioritized my pleasure by controlling his own needs, but I could see how much he wanted me in his eyes. His eyelids were at half mast and his jaw was clenched tight. I swallowed nervously, “I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” he said huskily, shaking his head one time, then another time for good measure before stepping aside and opening the door at my back. He didn’t even look at me on his way out, but something told me it wasn’t because he didn’t want to, more as if he didn’t trust himself right then. By my peripherals I saw his hands trembling when he widened the arch of the door and started walking out. With a nod he parted ways, not even stopping to look at me one last time before closing the door and leaving me completely alone.

Shit.

“What have I done?” I asked to the empty room and then groaned in exasperation. This was bad. This was bad, bad, bad. I had promised to wait until marriage to have s*x but I’d never knew one could feel such an attraction like the one I felt for Callan. If he had insisted on getting more from me I wasn’t sure I would have stopped him. I wanted him right now, bringing me pleasure and ordering me around in that gruffy voice he had. This needed to stop. I couldn’t have him driving me crazy like this again. I’d made a promise goddammit! I banged the back of my head against the door and then closed my eyes, repeating the same mantra that had helped me through medic school.

Inhale the positive, exhale the negative. I breathed three times before I gathered enough strength to put this entire charade on the back burner. Then I sighed and walked out of the room. I blushed all the way back to the dorms. Not because I thought that anyone could possibly imagine what had transpired between me and Callan, but because for the first time in my life my panties were wet and even walking I could still feel the mouthwatering pressure of Callan’s fingers against my s*x.

That night when I finally fell asleep I dreamed about green-gray eyes and a muscular body that pressed me against a door. I dreamed about Callan, smiling down at me when I asked him to f*****g take me already and stop playing games with me.