On those rare occasions when Mac desired company on his own, he packed an overnighter, his kit bag containing condoms, as well as lubricants and a variety of sex toys, then headed for the club. One never knew ahead of time what the ladies might request.
He couldn’t stop a grin at the memory.
Then, when all was quiet and peaceful and the world was good, along came Kailani Holokai Larsson to disrupt Mac’s orderly existence. And he liked order, a holdover from his SEAL days, which were not too far behind him. Order, control, knowing how to react in any given situation without conscious thought, had kept him alive. From their first glance across a crowded lecture hall, to the lounge, to his hotel suite, it had been Keko, and only Keko. As Linda Ronstadt had belted out, just one look, that’s all it took.
Indeed, when Keko showed up, his well-ordered life had flown right out the window.
* * * * *
Mac finally lost the battle with his conscience and cat-footed to Keko’s room. The strip of light had been extinguished. When he tried the knob, he was rewarded with an unlocked door. He heard her rustle in her bed.
“Lorelei? Is that you?”
” Shh. Not Lorelei. Just me.” He pitched his voice low. With the large windows and wide skylights common to all the gallery rooms, it wasn’t difficult to find her in the ambient illumination. He took her by the hand, gently pulled her out of bed.
She resisted. “So much for privacy in a house full of Marines and CIA. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
” Shh. Quiet, please. Come with me.”
“Why should—?”
“It’s urgent. C’mon.”
Soft moans sounded, barely audible from the great room, as Mac pulled Keko along. When they reached his room, he quietly closed the door behind them. The only noise was the metallic click as he engaged the lock.
“Now, do you want to tell me what’s so freakin’ important that it required abducting me from my bed? And what’s going on downstairs?”
He pulled her close. “My best guess would be that our hosts and hostess are becoming reacquainted after their travels, and they haven’t reached a bed yet. Now, regarding your abduction. It is of the utmost urgency that I feel you in my arms again. I can’t do my job because of you. Can’t keep my mind on work because of you.”
How could he tell her that the image of her face was forever etched in his mind?
The image of her face, her body, as they had appeared in the soft lamplight of his L.A.
hotel suite. As he spent more time with her, he also saw the resemblance. In the daylight, she mirrored John’s Nordic handsome facial features and bright green eyes.
She cocks her eyebrow just like John did, when he was annoyed. Must have gotten the jet-black hair from her mother. The combination of coal-black tresses and emerald green eyes, highlighted by golden skin, hypnotized him.
“All right, you’ve lost your fucking mind, sailor boy. Why should—?”
His mouth silenced hers. They finally came up for air. “Since L.A., all I think about is you. Holding you, touching you, fucking the daylights out of you until there are no orgasms left, until we melt like ice cream on hot bricks.”
“And the SEAL waxes poetic.”
The next kiss lasted longer. Tasted sweeter. Felt hotter.
“Can’t help it. I haven’t been able to think straight since you left my bed. I get an instant hard-on whenever you’re around. Hell, I get a hard-on every time I just imagine us together. You cast some sort of island spell on me, didn’t you?”
She tried to pull out of his arms. “It didn’t seem to be a problem at the airport when you were coming on to Miss NASCAR bouffant blonde with dock bumpers for boobs. Look, buddy, I’m going back to my room. I’m too tired to think about you right now.”
He ran his thumb along the smooth underside of her jaw. She whimpered at the pleasure of his touch, and his cock twitched at the soft sound. “Baby, don’t think. Just do.”
“MacBride, where do you think we’re headed with this? The woman you met at the conference wasn’t me. She doesn’t exist. She was an aberration. Consider her a temporary figment of your imagination. I don’t come on to men like that. I never drank so much at one time in my entire life, and sure as shit never will again. Sport sex and one-night stands aren’t my thing. She’s not who I am. I don’t do casual spur-of-the-moment flings.”
“I know.”
“How could you know? How could you possibly know? We spent one night together, as incredible as it was. And me—no better than a female lounge lizard, only I didn’t ask for money.”
“I know because you are the most honest and reactive woman who’s ever been in my bed. No game playing. You were warm and funny and incredibly high-energy sexy, and you played my body like a virtuosa. I couldn’t get enough of you. I still can’t.”
“Fella, I hate to state the obvious, but you were thinking with your dick. And then I was thinking with your dick.” Leaning her forehead against his chest, she sighed.
“The problem is, it’s a wonderful dick.”
He ran his hands from her shoulders to her waist. “Look, Keko, I don’t know what brought us together across an entire continent, but it must mean something.
Kismet. Destiny.”
“MacBride, I heard those words once already, from someone who seems like a normal adult. I doubt if it’s meant to work its magic twice. What it means for us is that we were sex-starved lunatics in the right place at the right time, with the stars and planets in perfect alignment. When we were in each other’s arms, the sky trembled, the earth moved. Now it’s back to business as usual, playing with things that explode.”
“Play with me, and I’ll certainly explode. Are you still a sex-starved lunatic?”
Before Keko could respond, he shucked out of his T-shirt, jeans, and briefs. He lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his naked hips, her arms draped over his shoulders.
“You like this position, as I recall.” His cock stood at attention as its head prodded her panty-clad pussy. “I know I do.”
He stood her on the floor, stripped off her undies and satiny baby-doll top.
Reaching into his kit bag, he had a condom out, then was sheathed before she could react. Settling on the edge of the bed, he lifted her again, brought her to his lap. “Are you ready for me?”
With his hard cock knocking at the door of her pussy, Keko took a better position, with her knees braced on the mattress, then mounted up. As she slid her snug sex down his shaft, he thought he would pass out from sheer ecstasy before she managed to engulf only half of him. “You are so incredible.”
Keko twisted her hips to seat him deeply inside her body, twisted again, then nibbled at his nipples with her teeth and lips after she laved the hard nubs with the flat of her warm tongue.
“Oh fuck! Baby, stay still. Stay very still. If you move like that again while you’re playing with my nipples, I’m gonna explode in about 2.3 nanoseconds, like Fourth of July fireworks.”
Not only did she move, but she rode him hard, like he was an eight-second bull that couldn’t unseat her.
As he thrust up, she twisted down harder, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her breasts against his chest. She mashed her mouth against his; he felt her breath hitch the same instant that her pussy went wild. His hands on her ass cheeks pulled her even more tightly against him.
She threw back her head and called out his name.
“MacBride!”
Chapter Six
Monday
Keko power-walked for about two hundred yards down the par course trail, then eased off a bit.
What does he expect from me? Pronouncements of love and devotion? More kismet?
More destiny? Keko was fairly sure the concepts that worked so splendidly within Sanctuary for Lorelei and her lovers didn’t usually work as well in the real world. I have a solid business. I’m into my job. With Dad gone, our people depend on me to keep their lives going smoothly. I have K
amaka, and we make a great team. She was smart enough to know their liaison wasn’t a permanent solution—Kamaka deserved his own life, not to spend his time babysitting her. Until then, the symbiotic relationship worked for both of them.
More a treadmill gal than a runner, Keko strolled along the two-mile path with an unintended walking buddy. Apparently, the cat had decided Keko needed company.
A dog would run ahead, make giant circles, and sniff out everything of importance until he was exhausted. The cat simply followed at Keko’s heels, meowing pathetically, tail held high, with its tip twitching.
“Look, critter, you can go back to the lodge if you’re that miserable. Go chase mice or something. No one is forcing you on this march.”
The cat responded with another dismal meow.
Keko had grabbed a couple of protein bars, headed out the back door before anyone else woke. When she’d padded through the great room, a woman’s sweater and long skirt were hanging off the back of the sofa. She wanted to be out of the lodge before anyone else was up and moving—she wasn’t sure she could pull off ignoring what would surely be Lorelei’s satisfied look at breakfast, after hearing the sounds of pleasure throughout the night from her hosts and hostess.
She also didn’t want to deal with her new friends’ awareness of what transpired between her and MacBride throughout the night. Could she meet Lucian’s and Adam’s knowing glances at the kitchen table, after they most likely heard her howl like a she-wolf while she’d been impaled on MacBride’s cock, writhing in unbelievable rapture?
She’d lost count of how many orgasms MacBride had teased from her, had drawn from her very soul, but she knew he used up four condoms. At least four.
The couple had finally collapsed in each other’s arms from sheer exhaustion.
Wrapped in his embrace, she couldn’t remember being lost in such a feeling of complete satisfaction, well-being, of belonging, at any other time in her adult life. It was a new sensation, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.
The guy totally rings my chimes. So, what’s the problem?
Keko had awakened in a panic when she realized the sun had broken through the gray light—and she was still in MacBride’s bed.
MacBride looked so comfortable she hadn’t wanted to disturb him. Never having awakened in the morning with a man in her bed—or still been in a man’s bed after the break of dawn—she was unfamiliar with the protocols. How do I avoid any early morning drama?
With the lightest touch, she smoothed back the wave of heavy, toffee hair from over his closed eyes. Reacting without thinking, she brushed his forehead with her lips.
He makes it so damned tempting to crawl back into bed with him. A quick shake of her head didn’t clear the cobwebs, so she grabbed her scattered garments, then slipped back to her room.
After a quick rinse, she pulled on running shorts and sports bra, grabbed a hoodie, tippy-toed downstairs. She took a long gulp of orange juice, pulled on her sneakers, stuck two protein bars in her bra, then snuck out the back door. The cat snaked between her feet, nearly tripping her at every other step.
She walked past Kamaka’s rustic lair without incident. In stand-down mode, once he zonked out, he usually slept like the dead.
It had been a long time since Keko’d enjoyed the outdoors for its own sake. A light breeze swirled under and through the tree canopy, the leaf colors having only recently begun to turn. The morning brought a refreshing chill to the air. The light wind carried so many scents—from fresh and clean to heavy and earthy, sometimes almost exotic. Neither her sneakers nor the cat’s soft paws interrupted the sounds of nature all around them. Bird song, crow caws, squirrel chatter, all continued unabated. Keko felt comfortable in her skin, blended with the surroundings .
No wonder Lorelei doesn’t want to return to D.C., and Adam and Lucian are so content here. Sanctuary, indeed. Such a perfect place to raise their children. The ideal playground for children also proved to be the ideal location for men to train for the brutal realities of combat in its infinite forms. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She wondered, for the briefest moment, at the cosmic injustice of bringing even the smallest touch of mankind’s violence to such a haven of peace and tranquility.
Such thoughts had niggled at her since her father’s sudden, cruel death. Yes, he built explosive devices, for a myriad of reasons. Yet, how many people had he ultimately saved by deconstructing similar devices? How many lives had he spared?
How many families around the world had been left whole, untouched by senseless tragedy on their own turf, because of her dad? He had the ability, then taught her the skills needed to disassemble bombs meant for nothing other than death and destruction, whose sole purpose was to commit more and more acts of terror.
Without any sense of false modesty, Keko knew she was proficient at her craft.
Side by side with the big boys, she worked on, worked with, built, and dismantled explosive devices. She’d been called out to crime scenes. To scenes of terrorist bomb threats, both real and imagined. She could handle firearms and ordnance with the best, was proficient in the arts of self-defense.
If truth be told, her favorite assignments were building de-constructions.
Bringing down huge structures in the space of a building’s own footprint, or laying down a structure exactly where it needed to go, never ceased to thrill and amaze her.
And she’d proven brilliant at calculating the numbers and placements of the explosive charges. Even the veteran powder monkeys were impressed, and learned to trust her judgment.
Keko had never been on a battlefield, never ducked live ammo during a firefight on foreign soil, but she’d been well trained, knew the drills. Knew how to take care of herself.
Fully aware that he could not dissuade his headstrong daughter from following in his footsteps, John Larsson did the best he could—he taught her how to stay alive.
Lorelei’s words stayed with her. Did Lorelei have it right? Am I an adrenaline junkie, too? Is that my problem? Do I need the constant challenge of fear and excitement to keep me centered? Do I need to be jacked up to feel alive? Is that why I can’t survive a serious relationship? What mortal man could compete with a locker full of explosives? Regardless of the situation, I know my crew will never let me down: no man left behind. No woman, in my case.
Abandonment is not an option. Most people can’t say the same about romantic entanglements.
In Keko’s experience, many military lifers, law enforcement officers, firefighters, search and rescue personnel, professionals who lived on the edge, became addicted to the intensity of their professions. They needed that spark of danger, the threat of peril, to keep the juices flowing, to keep them feeling vital, necessary, alive. She was sure that extended obsession, at such high levels, accounted for the number of infidelities, divorces, broken homes. For such men—and women—partners and teams became, out of necessity, closer than family, closer than spouses. Keko had begun to keep notes, just out of curiosity. Of the Larsson crews, the only married guys were newcomers. In the first twelve months, newbies either left the job as being too physically and emotionally demanding, or their wives left them for mates who led more normal lives.
Why can’t MacBride leave the relationship as it is? Isn’t incredible sex between us enough? She considered that. Did MacBride fill the physical gap for her, so she didn’t lose total contact with her humanity?
Then again, mix former military and current law enforcement with two demolitions experts—that recipe could’ve proven volatile. Keko saw trouble on the horizon, there was no doubt. Where could this possibly lead?
Well down the length of the par course trail, she stopped, stretched, perched on a wooden railing to the side of the path. The cat sniffed the granola when it was offered, and plainly indicated such fare wasn’t worth consuming. Keko ate the protein bars, then tucked the wrappers in the pocket of her jacket for later disposal.
“Cat, normally I would agree with you, but it’s better than pick
ing nuts and berries in the woods, or checking out carcasses for signs of freshness. Call me silly, but I prefer granola to mice.” Keko gave the creature a look, shook her head. “Great, now I’m talking to a cat.”
“You could talk to me, but the cat is probably more interestin’.”
The cat spit, yowled, and ran. Keko yipped, jumped off the railing, fell into a crouch as she spun toward the masculine voice. Her hand flew to her hip, came up empty. Oh, that’s just great. I left the lodge without a sidearm. Damn it.
A lean, muscled man stepped silently from behind a huge pine, an older man, his long, greying braids held back by a red bandana. His blue plaid shirt was as faded as his worn jeans, and his scuffed boots had seen better days. The sun had weathered his nut-brown face, with crow’s feet and deeply etched lines. Still, she thought he must have been a handsome man in his younger days. His black eyes were clear and bright, his features square and chiseled, with high cheekbones.
“Who the hell are you? FBI? Undercover? Sonofabitch! Wear a bell around your neck or something. Saints in a freakin’ sidecar. You coulda sent me into freakin’ cardiac arrest.” Her hands flew to her chest, as if the gesture would calm her racing heart.
“Nah, not one of those guys. They’re too noisy, like buffalo in the bush. You woulda heard ‘em.”
He took a moment to look her over. Casual. Not threatening. At least, she didn’t think he appeared threatening.
“Bobby Black Crow, former Army scout.” He kept his distance, didn’t move close enough to offer his hand.
“Yeah, well, Bobby Black Crow, former Army scout, you scared the goddamned shit outa me.” Her hand still over her heart, she hoped her pulse would eventually slow down.
“Yep, that seems to happen. Especially with you women.”
” Us women? Did you pull this stunt on Lorelei?”
Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three Page 7
