Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three

by Danica St. Como

  Great, now I’ll have splinters, as well as rug burns. Her hair worked free of the barrette.

  Long, black strands draped across her back and shoulders, fell forward over her breasts.

  MacBride carefully pulled out, used hand wipes from a container hanging on the wall to clean each of them as well as possible. He found the plastic bag from her lunch in the trash basket, stashed all evidence of their encounter.

  Keko pulled up her panties and shorts. “Leave everything. I’ll toss it all.”

  MacBride attempted to hold her again, but she wouldn’t turn, wouldn’t raise her face. The heavy curtain of her hair hid her expression. She couldn’t look at him.

  “Sheriff, you’d better go before Chandler, or one of his agents, decides to check on my progress.”

  “Now I’m the sheriff again? Keko, I can’t leave you like this.”

  “Like what? I’m fine. We’ll … talk … later.”

  “Keko—”

  “MacBride, will you go? Please?”

  “You could call me Brian.”

  “You could go away.”

  “Okay, maybe just Mac?”

  “Go! Get out!”

  She heard him leave, then she heaved a huge sigh. She retrieved the barrette from the floor, smoothed her hair and clipped it back, leaned against the table to regain her bearings.

  What’s wrong with me? Am I brain dead or something? Women were totally lining up to check him out at the lounge in L.A. He shamelessly flirted with the Junior League woman at the airport kiosk. He’s gorgeous, he’s hung, he has skills, he’s a player. What are the chances that this will end happily ever after, like Lorelei and her lovers? No chance, idiot. No chance at all. I’ll finish up here, hop back to Boston with Kamaka. End of story.

  Chandler returned about ten minutes later. From the concerned expression on his face, she must have looked frightful.

  “Ms. Holokai, I understand you’re bunking in the lodge at Sanctuary. Sheriff MacBride must have received a call; he left in a cloud of dust before I could ask him to give you a lift. Anyway, one of my men can ferry you to the lodge if you’re not up to driving and finding your way back through the woods. Why not call it a day, grab some shut-eye? You’ve gotta be jet-lagged, and there’s nothing here that can’t wait until tomorrow. Our squints in D.C. are still working, and there are more of them than there are of you. You can’t do it all in one day.”

  “Agent Chandler, please call me Keko. Y’know what? I’m not even gonna pretend to argue. You’re right. I’m jet-lagged, working on a headache, and I can’t think straight. Something bothered me about the wiring assembly, but I can’t remember what.

  I’ll take a fresh look in the morning.” And my pussy is still pulsing and throbbing from MacBride’s attentions, and I can smell his sex in the air. It’s making me nuts, and I need to get away from here. She wondered if Chandler picked up on the pheromones that must be swirling around the room like crazed hummingbirds.

  “All right, Keko, call me Will. Leave this puzzle until tomorrow. Let’s go ‘round front to the courtyard, instead of weaving through the labyrinth of rooms and doors. I’ll grab one of my boys to play chauffeur.”

  * * * * *

  Keko walked into the Sanctuary lodge through the entryway that opened into the great room.

  In the light blue leather grouping, she huddled in an overstuffed wing chair, arms around her knees. She wasn’t quite ready to go to her room.

  “Overwhelming, isn’t it?”

  Lorelei must have come up from the training center. Her mass of crinkled blonde hair cascaded from its high ponytail. Sweat soaked her sports bra and the waistband of her gym shorts. A towel was wrapped around her neck. She looked lean and hard and fantastic.

  “Which part?” Keko felt like a helpless child again.

  “The whole package. The lodge. The camp. The isolation. The men.” Lorelei moved the calico cat, then parked on the edge of the sofa.

  She wiped droplets of perspiration from her face with the edge of the towel.

  “All the men, not just mine. Everyone is military, ex-military, or law enforcement. They live hard, they play hard—sometimes they die hard. None of them is exactly housebroken. We’re just back from visiting Lucian’s people, so the camp isn’t in full swing. If you think it’s tough now, wait until the clients show up.” She grinned.

  “Then it’s a real party. The clients don’t stay here in the lodge, but it’s still Testosterone Central at Sanctuary.”

  Keko shook her head. “How do you do it?”

  Lorelei shrugged. “Honestly? I like it. More to the point, I need it. Training hard, strategizing, investigations, assignments—they charge me up.”

  She draped the towel over her shoulder. “Frankly, it took coming to terms with Adam and Lucian for me to admit that I’m an adrenaline junkie. I crave the action, crave walking along the sharp edge of the knife. Why should the men have all the fun?”

  She left, then returned with two tall glasses of iced tea and a plate of macaroons.

  “Lucian makes the tea, fresh. Nothing like a good ol’ Southern boy to brew up real sweet tea like his mama taught him. The caffeine and sugar will either knock you on your butt, or keep you wired for three days.”

  She took a long drink, then winked. “Yup, that’ll keep ya goin’. Mostly sugar-free lemonade for me these days, because of the baby. This will be my special treat.”

  Settled back against the cushion, Lorelei turned a hard look toward Keko.

  “You’re a demolitions expert, your father’s daughter. It’s totally a man’s world. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your mother through all this?”

  Keko stretched out her cramped legs, and the cat abandoned Lorelei to settle on Keko’s lap. “Story is that my folks met in California where my dad was stationed. By all accounts, they hit it off like the rocket’s red glare. But as soon as Mother realized that the SEALs—and not she—were his life, she pulled up stakes and flew back to Honolulu.

  Pregnant with me.”

  “Then what?”

  “Hawaiian families are totally cool and loyal to a fault. Family is family, everyone helps everyone. A total support system. In Mother’s case, she traded in her own family—me—for a place in the art world. She’s an incredible painter and sculptor of primitive art, hugely talented. When I was a baby, she foisted me on grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. Anyone who would keep me for a while so she was free to work. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t abused or anything. Very loving people cared for me.”

  Keko had to look away for a moment before she could continue. “But I wanted my father. He visited as often as he could; he was my hero. They told me that when I was about five, I raised such holy hell after Dad left—wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, screamed bloody murder for days—the family gave up, Grandmother intervened and had my father called home. Apparently, Mother handed him sole custody. From what I overheard when no one knew little ears were listening, she never shed a tear.”

  Lorelei gave Keko a measured look. “Sounds like a cold-hearted bitch.”

  “Wow, tell me how you really feel.” Keko managed a small half smile, then shrugged. “I guess. Still is. In her company, I always feel like I’m five again. An annoying inconvenience. I don’t know why she periodically feels my presence is necessary—that’s where we went after the L.A. conference concluded. She never acknowledges me as her flesh and blood, so it can’t be for the mother-of-the-year vote.

  She likes Kamaka better.”

  Her expression sobered. “I may have grown up with rough, tough, powder monkeys for playmates, but I couldn’t have been more cared for and protected. Dad did his best to have women around for the female influence. Mrs. Wiggins was my nanny until I turned thirteen and became, even by my own admission, totally obnoxious.”

  She grabbed another macaroon, turned it over in her fingers as if she was sorting out what to do with it. She took a bite, washed it down with iced tea.

  �
�Twin sisters, neighbors of ours, were kidnapped right from our high-security private school yard. The bad guys tried to force their dad, a compadre of my father, into doing something highly illegal. Marine Force Recon found the girls. They were alive, but barely. Seems the kidnappers did not intend to honor their end of the bargain once they got what they wanted. Marines, 1. Bad guys, 0. Dad had me homeschooled after that. I knew what happened to Annabelle and Annalee—and stopped bitching.”

  “So, no social life? No dating? No going out with the girly girls to the mall?”

  “You’re kidding, right? Boys braved the house only once, and then they ran in the opposite direction as fast as their feet could carry them. Girls my own age thought I was totally weird. Creepy Keeky, that’s what they called me. Creepy for short.”

  Keko got her voice under control, embarrassed that she was still affected by the memories. “No friends like Brittney, Ashley, Samantha, Allison. My pals were Eight-fingered Jack, Powder Burn, TNT, Scarface, Freak, Sweetcheeks—don’t ask about that one—Fireball, Screw Up, Ash Kisser, Flame Out. Dad had three full crews, so I’ll spare you the rest. Then he imported Kamaka, who earned the moniker, Tiny Tim, for obvious reasons. At least Kamaka was closer to my age, and Hawaiian.” She cocked her shoulder. “I’m hapa haole. Half-blood.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, you seem to have a great fashion sense—how did that happen?”

  A heavy sigh resulted. “Don’t laugh. When tomboy garb no longer suited, when a clean pair of jeans or coveralls, new work boots, and a Rock On T-shirt no longer worked for evening wear, my dad was absolutely clueless. The guys in my crew bought me some girly magazines. Not girly as in porn, girly as in fashion.”

  Lorelei laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t end up looking like a street-walker or an exotic dancer, with the guys giving advice.”

  ” Nah. Read Cosmo, Elle, Vogue, Glamour, the whole lot. I studied clothing lines, practiced doing make-up in the privacy of my room, stuff like that, until I passed. Oh, and I do keep Victoria’s Secret, secret.”

  “And the crew didn’t hit on you?”

  Keko felt her face grow warm. “And cross my father? Not likely. Actually, the guys, especially the older guys, were very protective. They said that when I wasn’t working, I should look classy, not trashy. So, that became my motto. Class, not trash.”

  “Sounds like boatloads of fun. So, what’s with you and Mac?”

  Keko choked on a macaroon. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Look, I don’t know Mac that well, but I know him well enough. He’s a good guy. Smart, dedicated. Single, to my knowledge never married, a straight shooter. The air fair strums with tension when you two are in the same room. Or maybe that’s brimstone.” Lorelei grinned. “He’s been a freakin’ basket case since he arrived home from the conference. Is that your doing?”

  I’m so not in the mood for this. I can’t even sort it out for myself. “Lorelei, not to be rude or anything, but I’m really whupped on my ass. I need a warm shower and a big soft bed. Could we maybe continue this discussion another time?” If we ever discuss it at all.

  Keko couldn’t decide if Lorelei’s expression mirrored confusion or righteous conviction.

  “Sure. What about supper?”

  “Not hungry, thanks. If you would let Kamaka know I’ll chat with him in the morning? Oh, I left Lucian’s SUV at Smitty’s place. One of Chandler’s men gave me a ride. Will told me to call him in the morning for a lift.”

  ” Uh huh. No problem. G’night.”

  ” Aloha po.”

  Chapter Five

  Sunday evening

  “Keko isn’t coming down for supper?” Mac nearly spilled his drink at the kitchen table, then tried to regroup, tried to appear normal. “She went to bed already? Is something wrong? Is she okay?”

  “Calm down, Galahad. She’s fine. Apparently, your explosives expert was exhausted, about fell asleep at the workbench with her face in the components.

  Chandler had one of his boys bring her home.” Lorelei passed the salad bowl to Kamaka.

  Lucian perked up.

  “What did she do with my truck? Plow it into a tree or boulder or something?”

  Then he grinned at Lorelei. “Oh, no, wait—that’s your technique for parking a motor vehicle.”

  Adam snorted.

  Lorelei shot her lover a seriously squinty-eyed glare. “Duquesne, watch it. I know where you sleep. I even know how you sleep. As I was saying, Chandler thought she was too tired to drive, so the Fibbies are guarding your precious truck. She’ll need a lift to the site tomorrow.”

  Kamaka helped himself to another thick pork chop filled with pineapple and apple bread stuffing. “That’s no lie. Miss Keko hasn’t gotten much sleep lately, just a couple of power-naps in the air while we crisscrossed the country. As a matter of fact, she hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since, well, let me think … since the conference. For some reason, the seminars really wiped her out.”

  Mac saw Adam perk up at the news. Aww, crap.

  “Conference?”

  Kamaka nodded. “Oh, yeah. Demolitions and explosives symposium. Out in L.A.

  We continued on to Honolulu, bopped out to Maui, returned to Boston by way of air terminals I can’t even pronounce, then hopped the red-eye from Logan to here.”

  Mac didn’t miss the sly smirk the Hawaiian sent his way. Did Keko tell her big buddy about our liaison? Does she tell him everything?

  Lorelei poured another lemonade. “Mac, isn’t that where you were, the explosives conference in L.A.?”

  ” Uh, yeah.” He stuffed a cheesy Brussels sprout in his mouth.

  “Are you staying out here tonight? Your room is made up.”

  If Mac didn’t know better, he’d swear Lorelei shot him the same smug look as Kamaka. What the hell is that all about?

  He hadn’t planned on staying over, but why not? “Sure, I’ll stay. Tomorrow is my day off, anyway. Joe Collins has the ball. I’ll let him know I’ll be out here if he needs me.

  I’ll give Chandler a call, too.”

  Usually enjoyable, the after-dinner coffee and chitchat in the great room seemed to drag on forever. Mac watched the minute hand crawl sluggishly around the large-faced, antique, train station clock on the far wall. A small fire, not one of Adam’s usual pyrotechnic affairs, blazed cheerfully in the hearth.

  Kamaka had long since departed for his cabin, more than pleased when Lucian broke into his personal stash of snack food. And shared.

  Lorelei looked classy and comfortable in a soft blue sweater worn over a long flowing blue and cream skirt. The waist-to-hem buttons were undone to mid-thigh.

  Sitting on the sofa with her legs stretched out on the cushions, she appeared serene as she stroked the little calico cat on her lap—the cat that had moved into Sanctuary while the three lovers were away.

  Adam and Lucian looked edgy. Sensual anticipation rippled in the air, like sun’s rays bouncing off hot pavement, and Mac guessed the trio would end up in Adam’s bed tonight. After all, they’d spent weeks at the Duquesne farm in North Carolina, where the men needed to be on their best behavior—or Lucian’s mama would have thumped them until they remembered their manners.

  Mac’s room sat next to the com center, the farthest unused bedroom from Adam’s. While the trio didn’t overtly partake of sexual excesses in front of their guests, it was impossible not to hear the sounds of wild passion coming from behind closed doors.

  Keko’s room is only two from Adam’s. Not far enough. Mac stood, yawned, and stretched. “Everyone, dinner was fantastic as usual. Thanks again. I’m beat, I’m heading up.”

  Lorelei moved the cat, shifted onto one hip, crossed her legs. Her actions were seductive, whether she meant them to be or not. “G’night, Mac. Or, as Kamaka taught me, aloha po. See you in the morning. When you go up, would you be a dear and hit the light switch on the wall next to Adam’s room? We’re not ready for bed yet. I’d like to enjoy the fire.”

  When h
e reached the gallery level, Mac glanced down at his hosts before he turned off the soft lamp light in the great room. Lucian had already settled next to Lorelei. His hand slid up her naked thigh where the gauzy skirt fabric had fallen away.

  Adam slouched in his chair like a big jungle cat and stretched his thighs wide, which emphasized the bulge behind the zipper of his cargo pants.

  By the look on her face, Lorelei noticed, because she licked her lips.

  Oh yeah, fun and games about to commence on this fine night. Mac clicked off the remote switch for all the lamps in the great room.

  As he passed by Keko’s room, a strip of light from under her door indicated she was still up. He knew that Lorelei’s room separated Keko’s from his room, with no connecting doors between.

  In his own room, stretched out on his bed, he remembered when his life at Sanctuary really began. Even though he’d begun attending classes and training sessions at the camp shortly after he arrived in town, it hadn’t been until the following year that Adam and Lucian felt comfortable enough with Mac to initiate him into their ménage a quatre lifestyle. Not as their third with two or more women, but by vouching for him, by introducing him to adult men and women who enjoyed playing, as singles, couples, or in small groups, at a classy, private club.

  He agreed with his friends’ life-long decision never to play too close to home. So, when he sought female companionship, a quick phone call to Lucian, who acted as cruise director, set up an evening’s entertainment about two hours away from the quiet hamlet of Catamount Lake, away from Sanctuary. After a couple of years enjoying the life, the men had fallen into a comfortable routine that worked remarkably well for the three bachelors.

  After the abrupt arrival of Lorelei into the fold just a few short months ago, neither Adam nor Lucian strayed from her side, effectively ending their ménage liaisons away from home.

  It had been a shocker to Mac when Adam and Lucian showed up at their private club, Outlandish, with Lorelei. He felt amazed when he realized Lorelei was so comfortable with her two men, that she even accompanied them to the sex club for an occasional dinner, their meals always prepared by a top-notch chef. The guys didn’t wander through the club as they had in their previous lives, and no one dared approach Lorelei with her Marines in such close proximity. And Mac knew that she always dressed like a totally sexy, sensual siren.