Nerds Are Freaks Too

Nerds are Freaks Too

Koko Brown

Roxanne is stunned when her best friend, Leo, admits his
feelings for her—she’s
so
not going there. Lovers may come and go, but
true friends are hard to find. Instead, she enlists his help to sign her up for
an online fetish dating site. She immediately meets a man who can help her
explore her kinky side, starting with a chat session that leads to the best
orgasm of her life. While her body’s satisfied, her mind can’t forget Leo’s
confession…

Leo, meanwhile, isn’t giving up so easily. He knows Roxanne
like the back of his hand, knows what she needs, and he’s more than equipped to
give it to her. Subtle touches, a sexy spanking, the most erotic dessert-eating
session ever… Leo is successfully proving that computer nerds can be sexual
freaks too—until Roxanne discovers his secret. One that could kill not only a
potential relationship, but their longtime friendship as well.

Chapter One

“What qualities are you looking for in your Mr. Right?”

Roxanne glanced up at the bakery’s carnation-pink ceiling
and pretended to mull over the question. “I think he should be young, hung and
full of cum.”

Apparently not amused, her best friend Leonidas slammed his
laptop shut. “I’m out of here.” He began to stand but Roxanne grabbed his hand.

“I’m only teasing, Leo. Please don’t leave.” Roxanne glanced
at the booth next to theirs. A group of Catholic schoolgirls sat across from
them. They munched on chocolate cupcakes and giggled over the current issue of
some bubble gum magazine, but Roxanne leaned forward just in case.

“I’m nervous about this whole online dating thing. If you
don’t help me, I’ll end up with some bald, sixty-year-old guy with a postage
stamp fetish.”

A smirk lifted one corner of Leo’s mouth as he pushed his
black Buddy Holly-esque glasses up the bridge of his nose. The thick glass
magnified the size of his beautiful blue eyes. For the thousandth time, Roxanne
wished he’d ditch them. His baby blues rivaled Jake Gyllenhaal’s.

“If you’re so skittish about online dating, why sign up?
You’ve never had an issue meeting men.”

True. With her Coke-bottle size-twelve curves, gregarious
personality and confidence equivalent to a she-lion’s, Roxanne never had
trouble meeting men. Just not the
right
man. Silently cursing how well
he knew her, Roxanne pulled on her earlobe.

“Roxie…” Leo coaxed.

She wanted to squirm. Talking to a guy with a
Mensa-certified I.Q. of one hundred and fifty-one about needing more variety in
your sex life seemed so trivial. “You don’t want to hear the boring details.”

“Try me,” he replied, relaxing back into the booth.

Roxanne caught his gaze and held it. “No judgments?”

“Have I ever judged you?”

Actually, no. Despite all the tomfoolery she’d committed
over the years, Leo had always been tolerant.

“I’m hornier than a private during Marine Week.” She sighed
dramatically. “I haven’t had sex in—”

“Eight months, three days and…” Leo glanced down at his
watch. Roxanne had given him the titanium timepiece for landing his first
client several years ago. “Sixteen minutes and forty-five seconds.”

Roxanne wrinkled her nose to keep from laughing. “You’re
exaggerating the minutes and seconds.” Leaning forward, she pulled the sugar
shaker toward her and fingered the rim. “I guess I’ve over shared one too many
times.”

Leo inched his index finger toward his thumb. “I’m this
close to handing out ‘Get Roxanne Laid’ campaign buttons.” His perfectly timed
humor made Roxanne chuckle. “Jokes and horniness aside,” he continued, “I
believe the ‘why’ is more important than the ‘how long’.”

Damn he’s good!
Roxanne sat back, wavering between
confession and mule-headed secrecy. She drummed her polished nails against the
chrome tabletop, trying to buy herself some time. But Leo’s
I-can-outlast-you-any-day look obliterated her game plan. “My sex life is
missing something.”

“Missing what?”

Roxanne glanced at the teen-pop crowd again. “Actually, my
sex life is abysmal,” she muttered.

Leo’s eyebrows jutted above the frames of his black
spectacles. “How abysmal?”

“Black-hole,
Deep Impact
abysmal.”

Leo rubbed his hand over his mouth and regarded her with
what looked like disbelief. “
Deep Impact
?” Roxanne nodded. “Well, I
wasn’t expecting that. Not from the poster girl for young, black and fabulously
single in the Windy City. Up until several months ago, you ran through men
faster than the NFL draft.”

Roxanne winced. She hadn’t been
that
free with the milk,
had she? “You make me sound like a two-piece-chicken-and-biscuit whore.”

Leo chuckled. They’d come up with the term in college to
define all the co-eds who’d put out for the cheap two-dollar meal from Ray’s
Bar-B-Que, a popular late-night hangout.

“You know I’ve always followed the motto, what’s good for
the goose is good for the gander.” His voice dropped an octave. “So, let me get
this straight. You stopped having sex because whoever was doing it
to
you wasn’t doing it
for
you?”

Roxanne smirked. Leo had such a way of putting things. “All
of them gave it their best. I think they were just too…” Roxanne paused,
hunting for the right word to describe her whitewashed sex life.

“Vanilla?”

Roxanne rapped her knuckles against the table and Leo’s
eyebrows rose another inch. Any higher and they’d blend into his hairline.
“Jessina says I need a take-charge kind of guy. A macho man who’ll
push me to the edge, make me beg for
it
.”

During her sexual confessional, Leo’s expression grew
increasingly pensive. As the seconds of complete silence stretched between
them, Roxanne’s insides twisted. For someone who considered herself a sexual
being, her lack of a decent sex life made her feel a little inadequate.

“If you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for,
you’re wasting your time on a traditional dating website.” He slipped out of
the booth and moved to her side, sliding in next to her. “You need to go
directly to the source,” he continued, swiveling his laptop around to face
them.

With a few quick strokes and a click of the mouse, he pulled
up a website with a black background and deep red fonts. The site had the
prerequisite smiling couple as its blissful mascot. Instead of the innocent
hugging pose, the man wore a half-mask and lay handcuffed to a platform bed while
his female companion stood over him with a braided flogger.

“WhipADate.com?” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away
from the computer screen. “Why have I never heard about this?”

“You’re vanilla, remember?” Leo maneuvered the cursor over
the member profile link and clicked enter.

“Oh my,” Roxanne breathed as a portal unlike any she’d ever
seen unfolded on the screen.

“What are those? Sexual fantasies?” she asked, pointing to a
sidebar with scrolling text.

“Member testimonials of fantasies fulfilled.”

Roxanne sat forward. Her eyes devoured a catalogue of member
photos featuring full-frontal nudity, skin pinched with wooden clothespins,
limbs entwined in rope and chains, and mouths stretched with rubber balls.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she murmured aloud and then
shook her head. It was one thing to
talk
shit, quite another to walk the
walk, it seemed.

“Everything on this site is real and hardcore. And
you’d
better be as well, or at least serious about your intentions, because the
membership has a tendency to out those who are simply window shopping. If they
do, you’re dead in the water and you’ll be using your vibrator for another
eight months.”

Roxanne stiffened. She and Leo discussed pretty much
everything, but never the most intimate details of their sex lives.

“You’ve never used a sex toy, have you?”

Groaning loudly, Roxanne sat back. “It’s confirmed, Houston.
I’m vanilla.”

Leo drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “Are you sure
you’re ready for this? Do you think you’ll be able to let someone else bend you
to their every whim?”

She might not have a submissive bone in her body, but for
some reason the idea of being compliant to someone else’s every wish and
command pulled at something deep inside her.

“You know, there’s a more sensible alternative.”

“There is?” Roxanne hated that she sounded so eager.

Leo nodded. “You could start out slow with someone you know.
I think―”

“Only one problem,” she interjected. “I’ve never
backtracked, and I’m not dating anyone currently.”

Leo turned toward her and propped his arm on the back of the
booth. When his thigh brushed against hers, Roxanne didn’t think anything of
it. While in college, they’d often slept in the same bed. However, when Leo
didn’t say anything…just sat there staring at her…she started to fidget.

“I don’t want you to do this with anyone else, Roxie.
I
want to introduce you.”

Roxanne slapped his thigh. “Ha ha, good one!”

Thinking nothing else of his proposal, she picked up her half-eaten
red velvet cupcake and took a bite. Too bad the dessert didn’t come with a
dick. The mix of chocolate and cream cheese almost made her moan as she
devoured the rest of the cake. When she fell back down to earth, Roxanne
finally noticed she was the only one laughing.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” She couldn’t keep the
incredulous tone out of her voice.

“Very,” he replied, powering off his laptop.

The crumbs in Roxanne’s mouth suddenly turned to dust. She
picked up the Mason jar next to her plate and gulped down her milk, wishing it
was something stiffer.

Never in a thousand years would she have guessed Leo wanted
more than friendship! If his tight-lipped answer was any indication, a new
millennium had obviously dawned. Roxanne eyed him over her glass. Not as a good
friend, but as a woman eyeing a potential lover.

Easy on the eyes, Leo had a curly mop of jet-black curls
that offset his electric blue eyes and the rich, olive-toned skin he’d
inherited from his Greek parents. Those very same genes also contributed to a
pair of full lips, high cheekbones and a lean, six-foot-plus frame that didn’t
need much in the form of exercise, even though he worked out on a regular
basis.

Looks aside, Leo was also very intelligent and the owner of
one of Chicago’s most successful internet companies. He’d earned his first
million five years ago at the ripe old age of twenty-four.

Despite the solid foundation, Roxanne knew she couldn’t go
there. Becoming lovers would only complicate things. Boyfriends came and went,
true friends did not.

Wedged between a rock and a hard place, she decided to
grease her way out of a difficult situation with reverse psychology. “You and I
both know I’m not your type.”

“Not my type?” Leo rolled his eyes. “You’re one of the most
desirable women I’ve ever met.” Leo’s light gaze slid over her in a lingering
perusal. Hot, predatory and disturbingly wicked, the gaze lingered far too long
on her cleavage.

Unsettled and feeling a growing itch between her thighs,
Roxanne snapped, “Who are you kidding? Every woman you’ve dated sprouted from
the same Grow Me a Barbie Petri dish. All of them were size zero, blonde and
blue-eyed, just like your ex-fiancée.”

Roxanne winced as a shadow fell over Leo’s expression before
he quickly blanketed it.
Damn!
Leo’s confession had so unsettled her,
she’d run roughshod into forbidden territory.

Two years ago, Victoria Carlson, Leo’s former fiancée, had
called off their wedding a month before the nuptials on the ridiculous
assumption that Leo was in love with someone else. The idea was preposterous.
Leo had always been a one-woman man.

Roxanne reached out to diminish the damage. When her fingers
brushed along his forearm, a jolt of electricity bolted up her own. Startled,
she drew back. What was wrong with her?

“You’re looking for excuses.” Leo cocked his head and
mustered up a tight smile. “I would have never taken you for a coward.”

Roxanne’s mouth fell open. “Take it back!”

“
Coward
.”

“I think
cautious
is a better word for it.”

Leo tucked his thumbs under his armpits and flapped his
arms. “Bock, bock,” he clucked.

A patch of giggles erupted across from them.
Time to go.
Ignoring the whispers and giggles of the parochial set, Roxanne grabbed her
clutch bag and pushed Leo from the booth, sliding out behind him. “Let’s take
this outside,” she said, nodding at their underage audience. She threw a twenty
on the table while Leo gathered his things.

Roxanne stepped outside and pulled on her leather gloves.
Chicago’s temperature must have plummeted twenty degrees while they’d been
inside Let Them Eat Cake.

Leo followed, bursting into a speech as soon as he cleared
the threshold. “Why won’t you admit it? The real reason you won’t consider me
is because
you’re
not attracted to
me
. Roxanne Simmons always
falls for tall, dark and debonair. Not tall, white and geeky. You like guys who
wear cashmere, tailored suits from London and suede horse-bit loafers. Not
computer geeks who live in wrinkled khakis, button-down shirts, Chuck Taylors
and glasses.”

Broadsided by his superficial opinion of her, Roxanne stood
rooted to the spot—because she realized she couldn’t
entirely
disagree.
But saying she found him unattractive wasn’t exactly the truth. Leo might not
be
GQ’s
man of the year, but there was something about him that appealed
to her in a way other men never would.

Still, his opinion stung. She refused his hand when he found
an opening in traffic, instead picking her own way through Chicago’s midday
rush. She needed the brief respite to dampen her hurt and anger.

Once on the other side of the street, Leo clicked his key
fob, opening the doors to his silver Maserati GranCabrio. Roxanne crossed in
front of the shiny four-seater, which Leo called his First Born, and scaled the
curb. Miffed by the whole situation, she didn’t get in the car but instead
started to pace beside it briskly.

“Leo…I’m hurt by what you said back there. I don’t find you
unappealing. Far from it.” Roxanne stopped abruptly and faced him. “But you’re
my best friend. I love you and I don’t want to lose what we have by downgrading
you to a booty call. Think about it. If it doesn’t work between us, can you go
back to what we have now?”

For several drawn-out seconds, he didn’t say anything. In
the late-afternoon sunlight, his exotic features were more pronounced and his
gaze twinkled like diamonds behind the black frames of his glasses.