The master bedroom could have fit two king-sized beds with ease. To Keko’s surprise, soft shades of plum, orchid, and fuscia dominated the room. Area rugs in patterns of darker plum and black covered sections of the wide plank floor. The furniture was plain, Shaker style, in black.
“Oh, wow. This is awesome. Lucian’s sister did—”
Keko turned toward MacBride to finish her comment, only to fall into his arms.
Oh crap, I knew better than to get out of the truck.
“MacBride, I don’t think this is … .”
“See, there you go again. Thinking. You think entirely too much.” He leaned down to kiss her, captured her mouth with his own. Like smooth chocolate, she melted against him. “That’s it, let your body think for you.”
“I have work waiting. So do you. Important work.”
“And we both have good people on the job. The work will wait a bit longer.”
A soft groan escaped her throat as his hand slid down to her crotch. Damn it to hell, how does he do this to me? Her legs spread wider and her hand pushed his fingers tighter against the clothing that covered her sex.
“MacBride, don’t stop.” She pressed forward against his hand. Please don’t stop! I need you.
He did stop, though, long enough to peel the clothes off her body, then lift her onto his high bed. He stripped quickly, his clothing landed in a pile next to hers. He joined her on the wide mattress.
When their skin touched, she opened her thighs for him, but he lay beside her instead. She arched against him. “Come to me.”
” Shh. Let me take care of you.”
He aligned his body next to hers. His right hand began to play her like a precious viola, his fingers stroking, touching, caressing her torso until she lifted her hips to urge him to go further, faster.
“Easy, baby, let me take my time. No need to rush.”
Her eyes closed, her neck arched back. She moaned.
He slid his hand between her thighs, into her warmth, her wetness. Rather than penetrate her, he trapped her labia between his fingertips and palm. He rolled her flesh, then gently tugged at the lips of her pussy, first together, then separately.
“MacBride, you’re driving me crazy. Do something!” She writhed, tried to entice him to mount her.
“Slow down, baby. All in good time.”
He moved away, stretched far enough to reach the drawer of the nightstand.
When he returned to her, his fingers were slick with lubricant. She groaned and spread for him, anticipating—but he held back. Using slow circular motions, his fingertips spread the lubricant from the top of her mons to the tight rosette of her ass. Without entering her, his fingers danced over her hypersensitive skin, sliding between the crevices of her labia and buttocks.
Frustrated, she grabbed his hand, tried to direct him back to her pussy.
“Not yet, baby. You’re not ready.”
“For fuck sake, I am so ready!”
“Not yet.”
When she whimpered, he finally plunged his fingers into her, alternating the number of digits as he slid in and out with maddening slowness.
She clutched his arm, tried to force him to fuck her faster.
“Is that what you want, baby? Harder and deeper? Tell me.”
“Oh yeah, yes, please, yess!”
He covered her sex with his palm, massaged her in firm circles, then penetrated her with two stiff fingers as deeply as her body would allow.
Keko howled and writhed, grabbed his hand, pumped her hips. “Oh God, yes, do that, bring it, bring it, kee rist in heaven I need to come!”
He pumped into her, alternating with two and three fingers, gently twisting his hand as he pleasured her. His mouth sought and found her breasts, her nipples. He suckled her softly, then with more vigor.
“MacBride, damn it, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna … .”
“Not yet, baby, we’re not done yet.” He pulled his fingers away, to her cry of frustration, then, without warning, turned her over onto her stomach.
“What are you …?”
He reached between her thighs from the back, worked his fingers into her pussy again. She immediately pumped her hips against the mattress, against his hand. So close, so close … .
He moved away and returned with the bottle of lube, dripping the wonderful slippery stuff down the crevice of her buttocks, down to her pussy. Working his fingers deeply, he then pulled them out so he could massage her with his closed knuckles.
“Fuck, damn it, MacBride, I need you. You’re making me crazy! I need your cock now, baby, now!”
“Oh yeah, you’ll have a cock.” He pulled her hips up so she was on elbows and knees. “You’ll have it, baby.”
She felt him move around again, then he massaged more lube on her warm sex.
He spread her labia with one hand; she felt a hard blunt object against the opening of her pussy. She didn’t know what it was, just knew that it wasn’t his cock. She became quite still as she tried to get a grip on what he was doing.
Before she could give voice, the crown of the dildo slid into her, followed by the shaft. He slowly pushed the entire length into her, then held it still until her flesh adapted. The different sensation coerced her, and she was so close to the edge. She began rocking her pelvis, carefully, signaling him to thrust the dildo in and out.
MacBride knelt behind her as if he would take her doggy style, but continued to fuck her with the firm, flesh-like toy. He reached under and fondled her breasts and nipples, which made her wriggle and writhe beneath him.
Her voice deepened from whimper to breathy. “I want you, MacBride, give me your cock. You promised.”
“I will, darlin’, I will.”
He shifted again, reached under her hip, pumped the dildo into her with his left fist. He pressed his thighs tightly against her. It took her a moment to realize that he’d gone from smearing the slippery lube along the crevice of her buttocks to pressing a fingertip against the rosette of her ass. He didn’t wait for discussion or permission—
already impaled with the dildo, her body slammed her brain into overload as his finger pushed fully through the tight ring of flesh.
“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 p
enetration . 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?”
Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three Page 9
