The Virgin Sex Queen (5 page)

“Of course you
wouldn’t, Soph, I know that.” Grinning, he added, “Their husbands
and boyfriends are kind of curious to meet you, too.”

“Ah.” She
cleared her throat. Okay, that just had to happen. No doubt they’d
read parts of the book. “All wanting to meet the dirty author?”

“All wanting to
meet my very talented cousin.”

“They’ll be
disappointed.”

“No, they
won’t. Just be yourself tomorrow night and you‘ll enjoy it.”
Striding across the room, Sam grabbed her arm and hauled her
upright, shoving her in front of him. “Now come through into the
lounge and I’ll show you how to work the TV and DVD player. And
stop fretting.”

“I don’t fret.”
Only inside myself,
where no one can see me
.

“Now feel free
to help yourself to the ‘fridge and cupboards for anything to eat,
thaw anything out from the freezer, or get takeaway. The menus are
with the phone books on the kitchen bench under the phone.” Sam
pointed into the kitchen as they passed it.

Sophie was just
in time to see Alan check his wallet before he grinned, sent her a
cheerful wave and walked through the connecting door into the
garage.

She had to
admit to a little relief at the fact that she’d have the house to
herself for the night. Spending too much time in Alan’s presence
was sure to give her the heebie- jeebies, mostly because she’d
spend the time wondering when he’d say something wildly
inappropriate again and she’d reveal something she shouldn’t before
she knew it.

Sam had a huge
TV sitting on a cabinet and he went through the controls with her
before indicating where the TV guide and remotes sat beside the
sofa on a small coffee table. Under a stack of car magazines.

“Geez.” Sophie
held up the two remotes. “I’m surprised they work now.”

“They’ve had SJ
knocking them to the floor and Alan’s arse sitting on them, and
they still work. Tough stuff.” Sam clapped her on the back. “Sure
you’ll be all right alone tonight?”

“I’m a big
girl, Sam,” Sophie replied wryly. “In more ways than one.”

Immediately the
smile left his face. “Hey, I don’t want to hear that shit. I
thought you’d gotten over it.”

“Sorry. I broke
my rule.” She sighed.

“Yeah, well
it’s my rule in this house that no one says derogatory things about
themselves. Its soul destroying.” He frowned. “And trust me,
there’re worse things in the world than being cuddly.”

“Cuddly?” She
was way past cuddly.

“Yeah, cuddly.
Soft and sweet.”

“Soft and
dirty-minded, Aunt Tish says.”

“Don’t change
the subject.”

“Seriously,
Sam.” Wishing she hadn’t made the comment, she smiled up at him.
“It was a slip of the tongue, just a joke. I promise never to say
it again.”

He studied her
intently.

She smiled
sweetly and batted her eyelashes.

He rolled his
eyes. “Fine. Fine.”

“You are such a
pushover,” Alan announced from behind them.

Sam and Sophie
swung around.

“I thought
you’d left?” Sophie said. Cripes, how much had he heard?

“I got down the
road and realised that I’d left my mobile phone here.” He waggled
the phone in his hand. “I’m going now.”

Sam shook his
head as Alan left. “He’d forget his own head if it wasn’t screwed
on right.”

“Look who’s
talking.” She dug him in the ribs with a forefinger.

“My memory is
just fine.” He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and
grinned. “Okay, I’m off.”

“Kind of early
to leave for work, isn’t it?”

“I’m going in
early, Helen’s sick and they’re short-staffed. They rang me today
before you got here. So anyway, you know where everything is, so
I’ll get dressed and go. The number of the hospital is in the phone
book if you need me.”

“Thanks,
Dad.”

“Brat.”

Once Sam had
left, Sophie rather enjoyed the chance to relax. Being alone didn’t
worry her, solitude was where she did her best thinking. Crossing
to the TV, she flicked it on and perused the TV guide. There was a
horror movie on later but before that were some general
programs.

Going into the
kitchen, she checked out the menus before ordering pizza. By the
time she’d had a shower and was comfortably dressed in a nightie
and dressing gown, the pizza had arrived. After opening a tin of
tuna for SJ, which earned her his grudging gratitude, she settled
herself in the lounge room for a mind-numbing few hours scaring
herself to death and enjoying it.

Time enough the
next day to put on her game face.

It was late
when the movie finished, another horror movie following. She was so
absorbed in it that when something landed on her shoulder, she
shrieked and threw the bowl of popcorn up into the air, where it
rained down in a brightly coloured shower. Leaping to her feet, she
swung around with the remote in one hand, ready to throw it at the
intruder.

“What the
hell…? Alan?” She lowered the remote.

Alan stood
behind the sofa, eyeing her contemplatively as he plucked a piece
of popcorn from his hair. “Little nervous, Soph?”

She placed one
hand against her pounding heart. “You scared the hell out of
me!”

“I kind of
figured that.” He looked at the popcorn scattered on the floor.

“Geez.” Going
down onto hands and knees, she started to gather up the popcorn.
“What happened to your hot date? Did she kick you out?”

Alan smirked in
disbelief. “Me?”

“Oh, I forgot,
as if she’d ever kick you out. Forgive my lapse.”

“Just speaking
the truth, Soph.” Coming around the sofa, he plopped down onto the
seat. “My chick got some hot lovin’, don’t you worry.”

“Just what I
needed to hear.” Sophie placed the popcorn on the little table
which she’d positioned near her at the front of the sofa.

“Gives you
ideas for your books?”

“Yeah. Of what
not to write.”

“You wound
me.”

Sophie somehow
doubted it. Her gaze slid over him, taking in the rumpled dark hair
and the open-necked shirt buttoned up wrongly. “Need a hand getting
dressed, stud?”

Throwing his
arms along the backrest, Alan sprawled out lazily. “Sure.”

Chapter 2

His date hadn’t
gone well. Oh, it had been promising enough when he’d first picked
up Jess. The pretty paramedic was dressed in a slinky blue gown
that showed a lot of tanned, slim leg through a mighty high split
in the skirt. Her bosoms had been practically falling out of the
low-cut top and her trim little waist was cinched in tightly with a
wide belt.

The wide belt
kind of reminded him of a similar belt around a bigger waist,
emphasizing curves which were a whole lot more lush.

Dinner had gone
well. Dancing had been nice with Jess snugged up in his arms, her
perfume making his senses swim and her breasts pressing against his
chest. When her hand had slid down between them to rub against his
shaft, he’d just about gone weak at the knees. Her eyes had looked
laughingly up into his and that had been that. Within minutes he’d
paid the dinner bill and they were in his car.

To be truthful,
they never actually made it out of the car park before Jess was in
his arms, his hand down her dress top and her hands busily
unbuttoning his shirt so she could slide in and tweak one of his
nipples.

His eyes had
almost crossed.

He’d been about
to do the big no-no and have more than just a little grope in the
car park when Jess’s mobile phone had peeled out the theme song
from Mission Impossible. And they both knew what that meant.

“Damn.” Cursing
softly, Jess had untangled herself from Alan’s arms and taken the
mobile from her pocket. “It’s work.”

“You’ve got the
night off,” Alan pointed out.

“And they
wouldn’t be ringing me if it wasn’t important.” One hand on his
chest to hold him off, Jess spoke into the mobile. “Jess here.
Uh-huh. Accident? Yeah, we’re short-staffed, I know. The other four
ambulances are already out? Needing back-up?”

From there
Alan’s date with Jess had been shot to pieces. To be fair, he’d
totally understood where she was coming from when she insisted on
being taken home so she could change and go into work, hell, he’d
had to do it himself a couple of times. Sometimes planned events
just didn’t happen in their line of work.

So now he found
himself at home, a little sexually frustrated, rumpled, and feeling
more than a little put out. Until he’d come through the door and
frightened the living bejesus out of Sophie. Now that had been
amusing.

She took a look
at him while placing the spilt popcorn on the table, that
hazel-eyed gaze running across his body. “Need a hand getting
dressed, stud?”

Nothing like
tossing out a challenge. Throwing his arms along the sofa backrest,
Alan sprawled out lazily. “Sure.”

One dark
eyebrow rose as she crossed her arms. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Sure sounded
like it.”

“It was
sarcasm.”

“Really?” He
raised one eyebrow back at her. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

He gestured
with one hand at his chest. “Because you could - you know -
rebutton my shirt if you want.”

Those lush lips
pursed.

He grinned
faintly. “Tuck my shirt in.”

That firm
little chin lifted a little.

“Check I
haven’t got a wedgie?”

She studied him
so closely for several long, silent seconds that he started to
wonder if he had food or Jess’s lipstick his face. Running a hand
across his face, he checked his fingers. No, no food or lipstick.
He cast a glance down at his shirt. Nothing there either, so what
was Sophie staring at?

He cast his
gaze back up at her. Yep, she was still staring at him. Far from
being uncomfortable, he grinned. “Look your fill, honey. It’s not
often you get a chance to check out a body like this.”

Sophie rolled
her eyes and flopped down in an armchair opposite him.

Alan patted the
sofa cushion beside him. “Come on, Soph, be friendly.”

“Why do you
need friendly when you’ve already - you know?”

“Because…” He
sighed and dropped his head back against the sofa. “Because I
didn’t get to - you know.”

“Your
girlfriend give you your marching orders?”

“No. Call
out.”

“She’s a cop,
too?”

“Paramedic.
Things happen.”

There was
silence for several seconds before Sophie suggested, “Cold shower
needed?”

Alan gazed down
his nose at her. “I have it under control.”

“I hope so.
There’s only so much I can take in one day.”

“Take?” That
familiar urge to tease shy little Sophie stole over him and he
tipped his head forward so he could study her with interest. “What,
exactly, are you taking?”

Give the chick
credit, she simply crossed her legs and eyed him back calmly.
“Nothing you’ve got to offer, that’s for sure.”

Oh ho!
That particular comeback had
him blinking in interest. “How would you know what I’m
offering?”

“Why would you
be interested in what I’m taking?”

“So you
are
taking something.”

“No.” She
folded her arms across her chest, her generous breasts riding over
the top.

Only Alan
couldn’t get an eyeful because her cotton dressing gown was
buttoned from hem to throat. Shame really, because those generous
boobs were causing all sorts of interesting things to cross his
mind.

“So your
girlfriend is a paramedic.” Sophie said.

“Well, she’s
not really my girlfriend as such.”

“You just
met?”

“We’ve known
each other awhile. Saw each other at accidents and things.” Alan
shrugged. “We’ve been out a couple of times, nothing
exclusive.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Alan
winked at her. “I’m free if you are.”

She just looked
at him.

A sudden
thought occurred to him, one he found he didn’t actually like which
was downright weird. “You are free?”

“Define
free.”

Growing
serious, his gaze dropped to her hand. No engagement ring. No
friendship ring. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Not right
now.”

“Ah.” Some
hidden tension he hadn’t been aware of eased. “Good.”

Her eyebrows
shot upward.

“I mean…never
mind.” Curiosity spread through him. Looking at her sitting in the
armchair, he was struck anew at how she’d changed. Oh, she was
still Sophie, with her big eyes and thick, dark brown, almost
black, hair currently confined in a long braid, but it had been
years since he’d seen her. “How’ve you been doing, Soph?”

She was
obviously surprised. “What?”

“Seriously.
What’s been going on in your life?”

“Um, well…” She
shrugged. “Nothing much.”

“You’re a
writer,” he said bluntly. “A successful one. I wouldn’t say that’s
nothing much.”

“That was
luck.”

“And good
writing.” Some things hadn’t changed. “You shouldn’t make small of
your successes.”

“I’m not.” Now
she was getting defensive, her foot starting to rock, the pink
slipper with the -

“Holy cow!” His
mouth dropped open. “Have you got on cat heels?”

She looked from
his face to her slippers. “They’re called kitten heels.”

“With pink
fluff and everything!” And pink toe nail polish. Oh, that was
hot.

Her gaze
transferred to his face as she asked dryly, “Have I just discovered
a shoe fetish?”

“What? No.” He
settled back against the sofa. “Just the Sophie I knew never wore
anything that stood out.”

“So I’m not the
Sophie you knew.”

“That’d be a
shame.” The words were spoken before he’d even thought fully about
them.