The Virgin Bet (3 page)

****

Brent blinked, opened his mouth to respond, but found he’d lost his voice.

“I know what you’re thinking, ‘No way, not this hottie and a half’ but it’s the truth,” she said in a self-depreciating way. Her freckles stood out against her flushed face, and her red curls highlighted the dark pink tone. “It’s a sad testament to my lame life.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor. It seemed impossible that in this day and time a woman would stay a virgin for so long. Society expected an awkward deflowering by age seventeen at the latest, but the fact she seemed ashamed because she’d held out for so long annoyed him.

“No,” he said bluntly. “I won’t allow that.”

Her head jerked up. “What? That I’m a virgin?”

He grasped her chin, and leaned in close, keeping her gaze on his. “No, I won’t allow that shame. You are not allowed to feel ashamed of who you are.”

Her eyebrows knit, and she pulled away from him. “Don’t tell me what to do, Brent. You’re not the big mean boss man here.” She folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. “You don’t have any say in how I feel.”

Her challenge was more than he could bear, if any woman needed a good spanking, Tippy was it. He reached for her, grabbing her upper arm, and brought his free hand down in a hard swat to her ripe little bottom. She squeaked in shock, and when he stepped back, her mouth gaped open. “W-what was that?” she finally managed after several sputters.

“Actually I think you need a good paddling, to be honest,” Brent said. “I won’t have you putting yourself down in my presence. Or any other time.”

“You actually think you can spank a grown woman, and get away with it?” She sounded angry—which was much better than her sounding ashamed. “I’ll…I’ll….” She trailed off, then stomped her foot.

He grinned. “You’ll what?”

“I simply won’t allow it! I’ve never been spanked in all of my life!” She gave a short nod as if that settled that.

“Won’t allow it?” He moved toward her. She yelped, trying to escape, but he had her, snaking his arm around her waist. She kicked and thrashed as he carried her to the couch, then screamed and spat like a trapped cat as he wrestled her over his lap, bottom up. “This is for your own good, Temperance.”

He brought his palm down in a hard swat to her ass. She squealed, and tried to roll away, but he pinned her down with his free arm. His hand came down again, harder.

“No!” she yelled between swats. “Let! Me! Go!”

Then she reverted to screaming obscenities, cursing, and calling him every name in the book, and then some creative ones he’d never heard, even in his years of being a cop. His palm popped against the material of her yoga pants, and he wanted to yank them down to get to the soft flesh of her behind. But he knew it’d be too much a temptation to take more than just a spanking, and she needed to learn a lesson.

His arm tired, but he kept it up, until Tippy blew out a hard breath, and shut up. Brent paused, resting his hand on her ass.

“Are you going to be good?” he asked.

She mumbled something under her breath, before saying, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I’ll be good,” she stated.

“Yes I’ll be good what?”

She snorted. “YesI’llbegoodSergeantKingston.”

“And you’re not embarrassed by who you are?”

“I’m not embarrassed to be a twenty-eight-year-old virgin.”

Not entirely convincing, but he’d take it. For now. He pulled her upright, and settled her on the couch next to him. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” he asked.

Her vivid red complexion said otherwise. “Yes,” she said. “Yes it was.”

What had just happened? As soon as the door shut behind Brent, she grabbed her sore behind with both hands. She’d been spanked. Like a child. She’d been spanked like a child. Tippy rolled it around in her head as she stepped to the window, watching Brent’s police cruiser leave her driveway, and disappear down the street.

She
could
file assault charges against him. But what would she say,
your esteemed Sergeant Kingston threw me down over his lap, and spanked my butt?
It sounded laughable in her own mind, so she could only imagine what the cops at his precinct would think. Probably that Tippy was a scorned lover out to make trouble for a cop.

And for whatever reason she wasn’t as mad as she should be at him. He’d spanked her for putting herself down—not that that made it okay—but she was notoriously her own worst enemy. A perfectionist to the bone, she had a critical view of things she couldn’t swing her way. Namely, getting her hair to behave, and her always thin and knobby figure, which hadn’t filled out much since she was twelve. Seriously, guys went for curves. A nice butt, a nice rack. If guys went for knees and elbows, she’d be beating them off with a stick. Since they didn’t, she’d stayed a virgin.

Tippy walked over, snagged her license and his card off the floor, picked the laundry detergent up, returning it to its home in the utility room, before returning to her living room.

They’d kissed. A mad passionate kiss that she’d only read about in romance novels. Sure she’d been kissed a few times, but nothing to brag to your girlfriends about. She smiled as she sat on the couch—then winced as her tender butt cheeks smarted.

Could stuff happen with Brent? The question loomed larger than life in her small living room. He’d seemed ready to do the deed, but how good of a show could she put on with him? He’d be an experienced man, a lover who knew his way around, while she’d flounder and trip, trying to figure things out as she went. It didn’t seem fair to him. Or to her, she’d surely make a fool of herself.

And most importantly of all, why would he even
want
her? Old high school insecurity returned with staggering force. Brent was gorgeous, and he had a good job. He could have any woman he wanted, and Tippy imagined there were many wanting in his bed. Maybe he had a harem collected, he was definitely a man who could collect a harem. Perhaps he’d only kissed her because he’d had a bad day and needed a distraction.

Tippy let out an exasperated sigh, and propped her feet up on her coffee table. His card lay by her feet, a tempting sight. She wanted to call him already, and he probably hadn’t even left her neighborhood yet. She rolled her eyes, being a mooning school girl over this guy would get her nowhere. After all, she had a business to rebuild. Plans to make. Inactivity left her nervous, she hadn’t been jobless for a long time. Without her bookstore an empty spot had settled inside of her, one that left her depressed.

“Brent Kingston,” she mumbled. “I never saw this coming.”

Had he actually found her attractive in high school, and that was the reason he’d asked her to prom? Suspicion told her to assume the worst; that his cronies, and their virgin bet had been behind it, but she wanted to believe the best of Brent. But doubt nagged on,
of course he could’ve had his pick of the cheerleaders so why would he go for a girl with frizzy hair, bad skin, and braces?
Ugh, it was impossible to decipher. She grabbed up the bottle of wine, and took a long swig, needing alcohol to dull the confusion. She squirmed on the couch, her thoughts drifting to the kiss, the spanking, and most fun of all, Brent’s handcuffs.

****

Bright blue sky stretched over the park. Tippy lifted her face to the sun, absorbing the warmth of the late spring morning. Two weeks had passed since she’d lost her shop, and she’d taken up walking to vent her nervous energy.

It’d also been two weeks since she’d seen Brent. He could’ve dropped by to say
hi
, and the fact he hadn’t, hurt. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

“It’s for the best,” she said to herself. She didn’t need him, or any other man. Not that she wanted to be single forever, someday she wanted kids, and the white picket fence, but she was still young, and didn’t need to worry about it right now. The same story she’d told herself year after year since graduating college.

Still, it would be nice to date like normal women did. Have someone to snuggle with on cold nights, and celebrate holidays with. Particularly the ugliest of holidays, Valentine’s Day. She allowed herself to indulge in a daydream of spending a romantic evening with Brent. What would he do to romance a woman—or did he even need to try? After all, he was gorgeous, and a cop. The uniform alone gave him a free pass into a woman’s panties.

She sped up her strides, and made her walking circuit in her best time yet. She dropped by a smoothie stand, and headed to her car. She almost choked on a mouthful of strawberry banana goodness when she reached the parking lot. Brent leaned casually against the side of her car, smiling.

“Hey,” he said, looking incredible in gym shorts, and a fitted tank top that hugged his torso.
And my god, biceps like that should be illegal!
“I thought I recognized your car.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, pleasure rushing through her. She knew she was much too pleased to see him, but there was no quelling it.

“I run here when I can.”

Her heart fell a bit when she realized he hadn’t stopped by solely for her.

“That’s nice,” she said, trying to figure out how to get inside her car with him blocking the driver’s side door. Butterflies churned in her stomach, and she felt the blasted beginnings of a telling blush heating her cheeks.

“Walk a warm up round with me,” he said.

She met his gaze, his eyes mirrored the color of the skies above. “I have somewhere I need to be,” she lied.

“Liar,” he shot back, grinning.

Her mouth dropped open. He reached beneath her chin, and used the tip of his finger to close it. “I’m a cop, I’m trained to see through ruses. Now come on.”

He took her elbow, tugging her forward, and she fell in step with his strides. His legs were much longer than hers, and she felt out of breath pretty quickly. At least she thought it was the added exercise leaving her breathless.

“How are you doing?” he asked after a tense minute on her part.

“Fine,” she said.

“Liar,” he countered. “I want the truth, and I think you know what happens otherwise.” He shot her a knowing wink, and her flush turned into a full-on blush.

“I’m just out of sorts,” she admitted. “I don’t know what it is to be without stress. School, college, then my bookstore, all of it took my full attention. Now I’m adrift without something absorbing all of my time.”

“I’m guessing this disaster was exactly what you needed then. Work can’t make up your whole reason for living.”

Tippy chewed the inside of her cheek. Brent didn’t know her. She’d always been driven. She’d always needed something pushing her forward. Something to keep her focused, and striving for better. That’s how perfectionists thrived.

They walked another minute in silence, his posture smooth and easy, hers resembling a Chihuahua keeping pace with a Great Dane. They rounded a bend, coming up to the wooded section of the park. Brent reached down, and grabbed her hand. Before she could react, he dragged her out toward a thicket, and then nestled them behind a large oak tree, out of view of the walking path.

“Brent, there are snakes and creepy crawlies out—”

His mouth cut off the rest of her complaint. His lips crushed hers, forcing her mouth open. His tongue took advantage, drawing a low moan from her throat as it tangled with hers. He tasted of mint and madness as she surrendered to his assault. The smoothie dropped as her hands sought his chest, and explored the solid expanse of muscle. He was hard beneath her palms, and when she teased his nipples with her thumbs, they pearled.

His hand settled at her lower back, pulling her tight against him, and she realized he was hard
everywhere.
Inexperience reared up, and insecurity robbed part of her passion. She tried to push back to regain her bearings, but he wouldn’t allow it. He cupped the back of her head while his other found her butt, squeezing it. Her pussy tightened, craving the same rough attention.

His lips left hers. “Tippy, I’m going to make you come right here.”

Swimming in lust, Tippy blinked, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. “What?”

He spun her around to face away from him, his strong arm wrapping around her torso, holding her tight. He nuzzled her earlobe. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Ready? She still wasn’t sure what was happening. His free hand inched its way down her stomach and dipped beneath the waistband of her yoga pants. When his fingers brushed over the front of her panties, she gasped, and tried to wriggle away.

“What are you doing?” she hissed between her teeth, fearful they might be overheard.

“Hush.” His tone broached no argument, and she clammed up.

His fingertips teased over her clit, and she sucked in a shaky breath. Then he pressed it in tight circles, and the world tipped on end. Her legs trembled as she opened wider, needing more. Needing it harder. Needing him to take her right there, yards away from a public pathway.

“Please,” she whispered between ragged breaths. “I-I….”

“That’s it, Tippy, enjoy yourself. You’re beautiful when you’re aroused. I can feel how wet you are for me through your panties.”

The tight circles changed to hard rubs, just what she needed. Her gasps turned to sharp inhales, and Brent’s hand closed over her mouth just as the orgasm hit. She screamed into his palm as the intensity of it washed through her, leaving her limp as a ragdoll.

“Good girl,” he said, his hot breath brushing by her ear. He turned her around, and kissed her lips. This time a gentle touch, before he pulled away. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the past two weeks.”

She drifted in dreamy bliss, looking into his smiling face. Her hand slipped down, and, feeling braver, cupped his erection through his shorts. She stroked him, enjoying the way he closed his eyes, and groaned. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Finally, he took her hand, and moved it away.

“Not now,” he said. “You touch me anymore like this, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Maybe that’s okay with me,” she replied, trying to sound coy and seductive.

His face darkened, and when he met her eyes, a hot rush shot up her spine. “I play rough, Tippy. This isn’t the time or place for that.”

Her knees wanted to buckle, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what he meant by
rough.

“Go home,” he said, leaning against the tree, rubbing his hands over his face, before shoving his fingers into his hair.

“What?” Surely he wouldn’t dismiss her so quickly, after giving her the only guy-induced orgasm she’d ever had.

“Go home, now.” His stern tone said he expected no argument, but she balked, not wanting to cut their rendezvous short.

She grappled for something to say, but he spoke first. “Tippy, go home, or else I’ll pull your pants down right here, and spank your ass red. Got it?”

The threat only added to her mounting frustration. “You’re a jackass, Brent Kingston. A self-absorbed jackass.”

She spun on her heel, grabbed the now-empty plastic smoothie cup off the ground, and stormed toward the path, determined she’d never see him again. She hated Brent Kingston, and felt humiliated she’d let him take such liberties with her body. And she hated herself, because she felt sure he’d branded her as his.

****

Brent was shocked he’d so nearly lost control, and he was a man who never lost control.

“Fuck,” he said, tucking his dick down as his hard-on subsided. He heard voices on the walking path, and cursed again under his breath. When sneaking back here, he’d only intended on stealing a kiss, but Tippy tempted him to so much more. If he’d gotten caught his career would be as good as over.

He jogged out to the path, and picked up a brisk pace, needing to vent energy. What was he going to do with Tippy? A relationship seemed a remote possibility, he wasn’t sure if he wanted one, and he sure as hell didn’t know what Tippy wanted. Part of him, probably the biggest part if he were honest, wanted to be her first. What man wouldn’t want to be the first for a luscious and fiery woman like Tippy? But with that came big complications, and a commitment. A twenty-eight-year-old virgin wouldn’t surrender herself to a casual fling, and he wouldn’t expect her to.

He growled, running faster. He wasn’t used to denying himself what he wanted. And he wanted Tippy down to his bones. He’d never craved a woman like this. A desire that left him with sleepless nights, and a foul temper. When he’d spotted her car in the parking lot of the park he’d been much too delighted with the idea of seeing her again.

He
had
to get it under control. And fast. Be damned the consequences. In his line of work distraction was a dangerous thing. His lungs burned as he started another loop of the park. Brent knew how to get Tippy out of his system, and though it was a selfish act, he wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure.