Read Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three Online
Authors: Danica St. Como
Tags: #mystery, #Contemporary Romantic Suspense, #woman in man's world of business, #Law Enforcement, #romance, #Suspense, #adventure, #military, #action, #Danica St. Como, #erotic romance, #men in uniform, #M/F Romance, #Explosives, #male/female
“Oh my God, MacBride, you’re making me nuts!”
“I’m giving you what you asked for, sweetness. I’m giving you my cock.”
With that, he removed the dildo and replaced it with his condom-sheathed cock.
He guided the shaft with his hand until he lined up his cock head, then plunged into her until he hit bottom. Her earthy groans followed, which spurred him on. He reached around and under, tweaked her clit, rubbed and rolled the flesh.
She moaned. “Don’t stop baby, I’m so there!”
“Not yet, darlin’ girl, not quite yet.”
She arched her back like a cat, then pressed back against him. “Yes,
now
!”
He slowed the tempo of his thrusts, pulled nearly out, before pushing deeply once again.
She felt the coolness of the lube dripping between the cheeks of her ass. Without changing his rhythm, he worked a finger into the tight ring of puckered flesh. That broke her concentration, but she didn’t pull away. Heartened, he pressed deeper. She met the pressure and pushed back, caught up by the strange new feeling.
MacBride removed his finger, and she felt a broader object press against the sensitive opening. He pulled his cock halfway out of her pussy, worked a blunt shaft into the virgin flesh of her ass—she realized it was the dildo, a slender, but fully man-sized, phallus. She tried to relax as her body responded. Her pussy was screaming for the attention of his own hot cock, and he must have felt her. With a smooth move, he pierced her deeply with the life-like dildo, then buried his own shaft into the depths of her pussy.
Keko screamed as her orgasm blew her away to an alternate universe, one in which all sensations, all meaning, were centered in the maelstrom happening in her inner core. Her muscles contracted like springs recoiled, her stretched flesh burned with the fullness of the dual penetration
. Oh dear God, don’t let this end!
Mac leaned forward, and buried himself in her hot, oh-so-tight channel. He used the flat of his hand to press the dildo deep as his cock pressed deeper. Their cries echoed as she came again, drawing him into absolute nirvana with her. He remained deeply entrenched, as she continued to writhe against his encompassing arms, her pussy throbbing and pulsing and clutching.
Finally, after the last throb and pulse and clutch was wrung from her body, breathing absorbed all Keko’s remaining energy, as the air roared in and out of her lungs.
MacBride carefully pulled out, then gently withdrew the dildo from her tingling, burning flesh. He laid her down on the mattress, briefly left the room. He returned with a warm wet face cloth and a towel, then gently cleaned her nether regions, patted her dry.
Keko was too limp, too spent, to move a muscle as MacBride spread a blanket over her body. She thought he left the room, but that impression was more a feeling than a certainty.
In a doze, she heard a gurgling sound from the direction of the kitchen. She had no energy to speak of, and felt too comfortable to turn an ear in that direction to identify the noise. Sure that MacBride would handle whatever it was, she sighed and burrowed down.
He returned shortly with a cup of delicious-smelling, hazelnut cream coffee. She groaned in complaint as he piled pillows behind her so she could sit up, then covered her again with the blanket. Somewhere between making love and making coffee, he’d pulled on a pair of cotton draw-string pants.
She stared at the mug of steaming coffee, a fat dollop of whipped cream floating on the surface, as if appearing by some sort of magic. She called up enough energy to lift an eyebrow at him.
He held the mug under her nose, let her breathe in the scent. “I cheated. Keurig coffee machine. K-cups.
Voila
, fresh coffee every time. Don’t you dare tell the guys I drink flavored coffees. I’d never hear the end of it.”
She managed a half-assed grin. “The stuff of which blackmail is made.”
Mug in hand, she took a sip. The sigh was unintentional, but he looked relieved at her unplanned reaction.
He sat next to her.
“Are you all right?” He lifted her long hair, placed the black waterfall behind her shoulders, smoothed it with the back of his hand.
Her eyed closed in response to the extremely sensual manner of his touch.
“I’m not quite sure at the moment. I think so.” She avoided meeting his gaze, not knowing how else to respond.
Wow, I am so definitely a ho! And a kinky ho at that! Who
knew? My hoo-hah knew. How can this man read me so well that he knows what I want, what I
need, even before I do? Ooh, baby, this is totally new ground for me, but I like it!
He stroked her arm. “Y’know, you don’t need to leave.”
She raised herself up, slithered along the bed, sat at the edge of the mattress next to him. “I have a job to do. So do you.”
“I know. I wasn’t proposing we shirk our duties. But you could come home, here, to me, instead of haring off to Sanctuary every night.”
“What, and be waiting in the foyer with your pipe, slippers, and a hot meal on the table? Maybe quit working, be a stay-at-home girlfriend? A Harriet Nelson wannabe?”
Mac reared back a bit. “Hey, I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort.”
Intellectually, she knew he hadn’t suggested it, but her reaction was still immediate. And uncharitable.
“That’s good to know. Other than not fixing a hot meal—lack of opposable thumbs—a Labrador retriever would work just as well for you.”
“Keko, I didn’t ask you to become a
hausfrau
. Didn’t even imply it.”
“Sorry. Sometimes words just fly out of my mouth, instead of me keeping them to myself. It’s a really bad habit.”
But I need to set down ground rules, fella, before you think
you can domesticate me
.
He moved to stand in front of her, gently took her face in his hands. “Baby, there’s no reason you can’t say what’s on your mind. No need to censure your words around me.”
“Yeah, well, you may come to regret that statement.”
“I doubt it.” He rubbed his thumb along the line of her jaw, which provoked more throbs from her achy sex.
“I was serious about you bunking here. In the guest room, if that would make you more comfortable. Maybe give us some alone time, get to know one another.”
Keko slipped off the high mattress, found her clothes, dressed. “It would be rude to just bail out of Sanctuary. Lorelei seems to like my company, imagine that. And then there’s Kamaka.”
“Baby, I’m sure Lorelei and Kamaka can manage fine on their own.” He picked up his clothes, dressed. “At least think about it, okay?”
Ahh, a way out
. “Of course. I just need time to think about it.” She slipped into her shoes. “We’d better get to Smitty’s, before someone sends out the Mounties.”
MacBride’s expression became boy-like as he sent a quirky grin her way. “A bit too far south for Mounties, but I suppose you’re right.”
He pulled her into his arms, kissed the top of her head. “Promise me you’ll think about staying?”
She laid her cheek against his warm skin. He hadn’t buttoned his uniform shirt, and his tawny chest hair tickled her face.
Mmm, sweet wintergreen
. “I said I would.”
“Promise?”
At his persistence, she pushed back. “Look, I already told you that I would.
Besides, no one knows how long the Fibbies are going to be here. Chandler said he and his crew will probably be ordered to pack it in, wrap it up, head on out, by tomorrow.
Makes sense. They took samples of everything they needed. Kamaka and I haven’t really added anything of substance to their knowledge base. Yet.”
“You could stay longer.”
“Look, you have a high-profile position in town. I have a business to run. Larsson Demo already has projects on hold until I land back home. Don’t forget, Kamaka and I have been away from the shop for going on two weeks. I left Eight-fingered Jack in charge—who knows what I’ll find when we get there.”
“You’re the boss, you can delegate. Can’t Kamaka—”
She backed away, her hands pressed against his chest. “MacBride, enough! I have work to do. Either take me to Smitty’s, or I’ll call Chandler for a ride.”
As he locked up behind them, Keko shook her head.
Why the hell does he insist on wrecking a good thing?
* * * * *
Mac was frustrated.
She can’t hide all the damn time
.
Since arriving at Smitty’s place, Keko had avoided him. She’d holed up in the living room of the cabin with Special Agent Chandler, scrolled through screens on his laptop with the current results from the lab in Quantico. The FBI team appeared to be ready to bail. That left Kamaka for company in the workshop, until the Fibbies packed up the last of the evidence, which included all the bomb components and specialized equipment that Smitty had neatly organized in a bank of secure cabinets.
Mac parked on a folding chair. “Kamaka, any more thoughts on the discoloration of the C-4? I’ve never seen it before, but these days I’m not always up on the latest.
That’s why I attended the conference, to tune up. We don’t even have locals who dynamite fish ponds, if you can believe that.”
Kamaka was checking samples under a surprisingly good quality microscope he found stashed beneath a dust hood in a cabinet. ”
Nah
, dude. I’m still working on the wire coverings. All the wires are the same gauge, have the same thickness of plastic coating—except the white wires. The covering on the white wires looks like it came through an imperfect extrusion process, resulting in either too much or too little plastic along the length of the wire. In some places, it’s actually bare, which could result in a short along one of the circuits.
“Someone never heard of quality control, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t wire up a reading lamp with this stuff. Chandler said Miss Keko had been exhausted, said she couldn’t remember what bothered her about the wires. I’m betting this is it.”
Yeah, and I’m betting that our little sexual interlude over the workbench before she bailed
out for the lodge probably didn’t help the functioning of her brain, either
.
“There’s an odd smell to the C-4 that I can’t identify, nor can Miss Keko. Neither the color nor the odor is traditional detection or identification taggants. I’m hoping our friends in Quantico come up with a trace on its origin. Those dudes have
über
cool lab toys.”
Mac straightened up. “Not for nothing, but I gotta ask. What’s with the
Miss
Keko and
Miss
Lorelei? I can’t believe those two tolerate the girly-girl titles without flaying the skin off your bones for being either a chauvinistic prig, or an ass-kisser of the first magnitude.”
Kamaka chuckled. “It’s meant as a sign of polite respect, as I was taught by my mother and grandmothers. Too much trouble to translate it from Hawaiian each time.”
He stood, straightened out his back. “Plus, it’s fun to annoy people who might be hangin’ around. They aren’t sure if one is being deferential or being a totally sarcastic son of a bitch.”
“You devious bastard.”
“Exactly. That’s why Miss Keko
loves
me.”
Without fanfare, Keko stuck her head around the corner of the workshop door and surprised both men. She shot a look at MacBride, her expression tight, obviously not in the mood for any bullshit. “We need to talk. When and where?”
MacBride jumped into the deep end without hesitation. “I’m on third shift tonight, midnight to eight. My place, tomorrow, noon, lunch?”
“Fine.” She turned to Kamaka. “I’m leaving here in a few minutes. Need a ride?”
“Yes, ma’am, boss lady. Just give me about five minutes to finish this.”
“Fine. Meet you in front.” Without another word to Mac, not even a glance, she left.
Kamaka didn’t take his eyes off what he was doing at the microscope.
“Sheriff Mac, I really don’t like to climb into anyone else’s business. However, I think you should be aware that I’ve known Miss Keko up close and personal for a few years now, and I’ve never—repeat,
never
—observed her in her current stage of flip-out.”
“Her current stage of flip-out? Is there a translation that goes along with that?”
“Chief, she’s been a totally flipped-out chick since you hooked up in L.A. Never saw anything like it. She usually won’t give guys the time of day, or she gets like totally in their faces when we’re on a job and she thinks they’re not taking her seriously. Like she did with you in the hotel lounge about the Navy’s polymer stuff. But after you, all bets were off, man. Her mind was blown. She totally left the reservation, dude.”
“Okay, so you know about that.”
Kamaka finally turned to him. “Know about it? Damn, I dressed her, she was such a nervous wreck. I gave thanks to all the island gods that you didn’t meet each other until the last day of the conference. Otherwise, the paramedics would have needed to administer intravenous fluids by day two.”
Mac actually felt his face heat up, which hadn’t happened since he’d been about six and his aunt pinched his cheeks for the first time. “I see.”
“Dude, get with it. Keko and I, well, we’re best friends. Like best girlfriends. We share everything.”
“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Kamaka lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t get stuck on stupid. She’s had a rough time since her dad died, so you might consider cutting her some slack.”
“So, as her best,
uh
, girlfriend, what would you suggest? I’m doing my damnedest to get through to her, but it’s like pounding my fists against a stone wall.”
“Miss Keko has issues, man, long-term issues. And she doesn’t date much—when she does, it’s over before it begins. She’s her own worst enemy. Don’t push her, or she’ll leap to the defensive. I’m trying to convince her to take a few extra days at the lodge after the Fibbies leave, told her that she needs some time off. After John died, she took only one day off, for his funeral. And Miss Lorelei is really no-shit enjoying the boss lady’s company, so she’s also laying on the guilt to see if that works.”