The Virgin Sex Queen (2 page)

Her little car
dipped as The Incredible Hulk leaned into it and started searching.
The only things he’d find in there would be her suitcase, laptop,
her box of sexy books, a small handbag, a half drunk bottle of Diet
Coke and a bag of mints.

Holding a
breathalyser in his hand, Cute Boy strode around to stand before
her. “Now if you could just blow until I say stop.”

If this was one
of her books she’d have a dirty comeback for that blow order, but
this was reality, so she filed the reference away for future
writing and obeyed.

Cute Boy read
the result. “Very good.”

Thank you, master
. She couldn’t help
but keep slipping back into her little world of erotic romances,
always looking for something new, something old to tweak, and
definitely something in blue.

Like a cop.
Sexy cops in uniform. How hot was that? Maybe she could incorporate
this little encounter into her latest novel and-

“Ms Willow?
Sophie?”

Blinking, she
focussed on the cop. “Yes?”

Frowning, he
studied her eyes. “Are you all right? You seem a little
distracted.”

“Of course.”
Distraction was common for her when in the midst of plotting new
sexy scenes with cute cops and hard-eyed cops and - damn it, she
wanted her notebook to jot down her thoughts! As soon as The
Incredible Hulk and Cute Boy hit the road, she was going into a
jotting frenzy.

Cute Boy
scrutinized her eyes before obviously finally being satisfied that
her pupils were the correct size and not pin-pointed with opioids.
“Just wait here, Ma’am, and we’ll soon be finished. I doubt you’re
carrying anything illegal.”

“How would you
know that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

His grin
flashed right across his face, making his eyes twinkle in a really
familiar fashion. “Instinct.”

“Really?” She
studied him closer. Did she know him? Surely not. The world was
populated with many cute men, even a little sexy like Cute Boy.

No doubt he’d
made many a girl’s heart beat double time, what with the
combination of cute looks, twinkling eyes, that rebellious wisp of
hair that curled onto his forehead, and a knowing grin.

Knowing
grin?

Sophie blinked,
but by the time she registered that grin, Cute Boy had his back to
her and was leaning into the passenger side of the car.

What was it
about him? What was it that niggled at her memory?

The Incredible
Hulk was talking softly to Cute Boy, but his rumble was pretty
clear to hear even if she couldn’t make out the words. The car
dipped as he straightened then opened the back door and did a quick
search.

Meanwhile, Cute Boy stood up and cast a glance at her. In his
hand he held a book.
Punishing
Laura.
The cover had a very clear picture
of a pert bottom with a man’s hand print clearly visible.
Underneath that provocative picture was her name emblazoned in all
its glory.
Sophie Willow
. Great, he would find that particular book.

Sophie could
feel the pink tinge creep into her cheeks as Constable Cute Boy
looked at the cover, mouthed the title, and then turned that
twinkling gaze to her.

“Author, Ms
Willow?”

As if it wasn’t
obvious. Trying to appear cool, she nodded. It was one thing to
write erotic romances, another to actually face a member of the
public holding one in his hand. Especially because he was a man and
cute to boot Most people outside her circle of friends and
acquaintances knew only her name and profile photo. She mostly
interacted via internet, though she’d met some fans when she’d
attended romance book conferences. Luckily, most people thought she
wrote under a pen name, not her own.

But now here
was Cute Boy holding her racy romance in his hand, his gaze knowing
and a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. She recognised that
look in his eyes, he was dying to make some remark. Being on the
job meant he smothered the urge and simply nodded in admiration –
feigned or otherwise – and slid the book back into the box.

Silently she
waited while they finished the search of her car.

The Incredible
Hulk looked at her across the top of her little car. “Everything
looks fine, Ma’am. Thank you for your patience.”

“No
worries.”

“But.” He shut
the back car door with a thud that made the car rock a little. “You
were speeding.”

No doubt about
it. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“And it wasn’t
an emergency.” He frowned. Or rather, his frown just grew darker.
Scary.

She barely
refrained from twisting her hands behind her back like a naughty
girl. “I’m sorry.”

“Speed
kills.”

“I know.” Now
she felt like crap. She knew the road accident statistics.

“It’s
irresponsible.” Disapproval was heavy in the menacing rumble.

“I’m sorry.”
Now she was sounding like a cracked record. “I really am. Ummm…are
you booking me?”

Those cold eyes
bored into her before switching to Cute Boy.

Cute Boy’s lips
– and a fine pair of masculine lips they were, her writer’s side
and yes, her feminine side, couldn’t help but notice – twitched as
though he was suppressing a grin. He remained straight-faced,
however, as he proffered her licence. “You’re free to go, Ms
Willow.”

Relief coursed
through her as she reached for the licence. “Thank you. I promise
I’ll watch my speed, I really will.” Her fingers closed over the
little rectangle of plastic, but when his fingers tightened on it
she glanced up at him inquiringly, only to be taken aback to find
him regarding her soberly.

“Consider this
a warning, Ms Willow.” His voice was low, his gaze on her face
intent. “I only give it once.”

There was an
undercurrent in his tone, something steely, something that made her
heart skip a beat and her cheeks go all hot. What would happen if
she didn’t heed his warning? She almost went dizzy at the erotic
thoughts that slipped unbidden through her mind.

His sudden
smile was a flash of white teeth, the twinkle back in his eyes as
though he could read her dirty mind and was vastly amused by it.
“Next time you get a fine.”

The erotic
images in her mind vanished in a puff of smoke. As if a man like
Cute Boy would want to punish her any other way. But man, it had
made for a few very hot seconds, and the images and emotions were
ones she was going to jot down as soon as she could. He might not
be planning anything with her, but her next book was going to
feature a smoking hot cop with a heavy hand.

Getting back
into her car, she glanced into the rear view mirror to find that
both cops were leaning back against the bonnet of the cop car,
gazes on her as they spoke between themselves.

Now was not a
good time to start jotting down ideas.

After checking
the traffic, Sophie pulled back onto the road and commenced
entering the city.

She’d have
continued on to her cousin’s place but a check of her watch let her
know that he wouldn’t be home yet as he’d said he’d be out until
five pm, and typical of Sam, he hadn’t gotten around to copying a
spare key and hiding it. But there was time to stop at a café and
get a cold drink. And jot down her ideas.

Pulling into a
service station that also boasted a small restaurant, Sophie
refuelled the car before parking it under the shade of a tree and
entering the café. Sitting down, she ordered a cup of coffee and a
toasted sandwich, pulling out her notepad while waiting.

Hot cops. Cute
cops. Cold-eyed cops. That just led to thoughts of handcuffs and
punishment and all sorts of things. Not really into heavy BDSM,
Sophie nevertheless let her imagination go a little wild as she
allowed her thoughts to flow and wrote the ideas down, never mind
how far-fetched or wild. Or dirty. One never knew what could come
of letting thoughts just flow, and she’d found it to be a great way
to get new ideas, fresh perspectives, and intriguing characters. It
had certainly made her a successful author.

The coffee
arrived and grew cold while she continued to write, and only the
arrival of a family with a crying child finally propelled her to
put the notepad away and sip at the coffee. Licking her finger, she
collected the crumbs on the plate and glanced again at her watch.
Sam would surely be home by now. If she bothered to keep her mobile
phone charged she could phone him, but as usual the battery was
flat. Not a fan of mobiles, she normally left it lying neglected
somewhere. Unless her thoughtful friend, Ghost, had recharged it
for her? A search of her small handbag produced no mobile.

Okay, it could
be anywhere. Her suitcase, her glove box, even her bedroom back
home.

Bummer.

With a shrug,
Sophie stood and crossed to the counter, paying the bill before
walking outside. Once at the car, she only checked the map to make
sure she knew the route to Sam’s house, though it didn’t appear to
have changed much since last time.

Sam’s house
stood in a quiet street lined with weeping willows. The gardens
were full of roses, flowering bushes and everything else to delight
a gardener’s heart. The houses were old, built of stone and well
cared for, lending the elegant street a stately air. It definitely
had an old world air about it. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine
carriages and horses instead of cars using the road.

The wide
driveway led up to a closed double garage. Sophie pulled her little
car to a halt in the small space just between the garage and the
fence, out of the way of Sam and his housemate’s comings and
goings. Getting out, she stretched slowly and peered around before
picking up the handbag and slinging it over her shoulder. Bumping
the car door shut with her hip, she crossed to the veranda and
stepped up. After a couple of brisk knocks, she moved back and
waited.

After a few
seconds the door swung open but she couldn’t see past the heavily
screened security door. “Sam?”

“Well, as I
live and breath,” a familiar voice practically purred. “If it isn’t
the speed hog and sex writer, Ms Willow.” The screen door swung
open and Cute Boy grinned down at her.

Surprised,
Sophie’s mouth fell open. “What are you doing here?”

“G’day, Soph.”
He winked. “Who’d have guessed, huh?”

No longer in
uniform, instead standing there in nothing but low-slung jeans and
bare feet, it now hit her why he’d seemed so familiar. Smooth bare
chest, tanned skin sculpted to lean, defined muscles, relaxed pose
and twinkling dark eyes, the dark hair now dishevelled and flopping
anywhere it pleased, and teeth flashing in a huge smile, yeah, it
came back to her now. For sure he was older and no longer the lanky
teenager, but that twinkle in his eyes and the laughter in his
voice hadn’t changed.

“
Alan
Cooper?”

He spread his
arms out. “In person.”

Sophie Willow
stared at him in shock, her big hazel eyes wide. He should have
recognised her immediately when he’d pulled her over for speeding,
but it was only once he had her license and was double checking her
history that he’d suspected who she was, and that had been proven
when he’d found that open box of steamy romances with the
titillating titles, not to mention covers.

Little Sophie
Willow, Sam’s cousin, was coming to stay with him and Alan for two
weeks. Only Sophie wasn’t so little now. Oh, she was still a big
chick, had always been a big chick all the way through primary
school and into high school, but she’d changed a lot. Actually, he
rather liked what he saw, regardless that big chicks didn’t usually
ping on his chick radar.

Plus-sized she
might be, but all those extra curves were in exactly the right
places, rounded hips, voluptuous bottom, lush breasts and all. She
just had extra of everything and it was all exaggerated by the
indent of her waist and the wide belt she wore, which accentuated
the way her waist dipped inwards between those lush breasts and
rounded hips.

Alan’s gaze
swept over her again, a grin crossing his face when he noticed her
eyes narrow. Oh yeah, Sophie might be all grown up – and how – but
she obviously still had a bit of a temper, he could see it starting
to flare in those big hazel eyes.

Laughing, he
stepped forward and embraced her in a hug, hauling her close to
give her a smacking kiss on her temple when she squawked into his
shoulder and grabbed his biceps.

Man, those
breasts were pillowy soft against his chest.

“Good to see
you, Soph.” Releasing her, he glanced over her shoulder. “Where’re
your bags?”

“My bags?” A
little flustered, she straightened the small handbag on her
shoulder.

He moved around
her. “Don’t tell me you lost them while speeding through the city?
Aerodynamics and all that?”

“What? No!” She
frowned up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“And spoil the
fun of springing this surprise on you? Not on your life.” Ruffling
her hair teasingly as he’d done when she’d been a child, Alan
stepped off the veranda. “Give us the keys to your little jet plane
and I’ll get your bags out.” He couldn’t resist turning to wink up
at her. “And the box of sexy books.”

Oh yeah, her cheeks flushed. Her teeth clenched a little.
Delighted, Alan rubbed his hands together. “Did you by any chance
bring a box of, you know,
toys
, as well?”

“Toys?” She
drew a deep breath before smiling sweetly. “Not for little boys to
play with.”

“Good thing I’m
not a little boy, isn’t it?” He plucked the keys from her
fingers.

“I have no
proof of that.”

“I’ll show you
my little black book. You can dial the chicks and get verbal
acknowledgement.”