The Virgin Sex Queen (6 page)

Her face
tightened. “You’d rather I stayed under a bush out of sight?”

“I didn’t mean
that.” All amusement vanished.

“So what did
you mean?”

Boy, she was
prickly. “I just meant that you’ve changed.”

“I think we’ve
already established that.” She pushed to her feet.

Alan
practically leaped to his. “Where are you going?”

“Bed. I’m
tired.”

“Soph,
wait-”

“Nice to meet
you again, Alan. Good night.”

No way was he
letting her go, not when he caught the flash of hurt in her eyes.
One lunge and he was directly in front of her. She made to side
step him but he simply moved again, taking her upper arms in a
gentle hold.

Expression
still tight, she looked up at him. “Alan-”

“I’m sorry.
Sometimes my mouth runs away with me.” Often, in fact. He gentled
his tone. “Let’s just sit and chat awhile, okay? No more
teasing.”

Now her
expression was dubious. “You? Not teasing?”

“I’ve changed
as well.” When she simply stared at him, he released her arms to
raise his hands and hold them palms outwards. “Promise.”

“I’ll believe
that when I see it.’

“Hey, I dress
in a cop’s uniform and give out speeding tickets. And save lives.
And do other things.”

“That’s your
big boy job. Your little boy job seems to be the same.”

“What little
boy job would that be?”

Placing one
hand on his chest, she shoved lightly. “Being a tease and a skirt
chaser.”

“Hey, I didn’t
go chasing skirts,” he replied indignantly. “I went on a date.”

“Which went
arse up and now you’re teasing me.”

“Trying to
chat, honey.” Shuffling a few inches to the right, he again stopped
her movement to flee. Reaching out, he placed his finger beneath
her chin to tilt her face up so she met his gaze. “I promise to be
good.”

She stared up
at him, and then, unexpectedly, a small twinkle appeared in her
eyes. He couldn’t say why that made him feel warm inside, but it
did.

“You promise to
be good?” she asked.

“On my
honour.”

“You have
honour now? You have changed.”

“Now who’s
teasing?”

She mimed
zipping her lips closed and throwing away the key.

Alan pretended
to catch the key and unlocked her lips, feeling the warm, moist
breath on his fingers as he did so. Ignoring the comment that
immediately sprang to his tongue, he smiled down at her. “Talk to
me, Soph.”

There was no
mistaking the relaxing of her body, the tightness of her lips
easing. “About…?”

“What you’ve
done since you left. What I’ve done. Let’s catch up.”

“Hmmm. And you
say you can do this without teasing?”

He sucked in
his bottom lip thoughtfully before hedging, “I’ll try.”

She burst into
laughter.

Grabbing her
hand, he turned and started to tug her along. “Come on, let’s get a
cuppa and share girl talk.”

“I didn’t think you’d changed
that
much.”

“It’s what
comes of having a workmate who just has to talk about feelings.” He
gave an exaggerated shudder.

“Who would that
be?”

“You met him
today.”

Sophie’s eyes
widened. “The Incredible Hulk?”

Alan gave a
snort of laughter as he led her into the kitchen.

“Seriously?”
Leaning on the kitchen bench, she watched as he put the kettle on
to boil. “That big, scary monster talks about feelings?”

“Oh yeah.” Alan
set two cups on the kitchen counter. “Mike has this thing about
clearing the air. Man, he drives his wife nuts sometimes.”

“I saw his
wedding ring. Thought whoever married him would have to be brave or
nuts.”

“Trust me,
Maddy isn’t nuts. She’s the only one game enough to call Mike out
on things he does that annoy her.”

Perching on one
of the stools, Sophie leaned her folded arms on the counter. “How’d
you end up in the police, Alan? It’s not something I thought you’d
do.”

“What did you
think I’d do?” He spooned Milo into the cups. “Be a fireman?”

“Gigolo.”

“Seriously?
I’m…” He placed one hand on his chest. “Touched.”

“Nothing new
there.”

“True. A lot of
chicks have touched-”

“Please.”
Sophie held up one hand. “I can see an information overload
coming.”

Going by the
little smile that hovered at the corners of her mouth and the
amusement in her eyes, she was anything but embarrassed.

Alan grinned at
her. “Sure? You could use some of my sexual prowess adventures in
your books.”

“I’m sure your
adventures would be nothing new.”

“How can you
know that?”

Picking up the
sugar bowl, she spooned a teaspoon of sugar into her cup before
indicating his cup with the spoon. When he shook his head, she
said, “Tough boy.” Dropping the teaspoon into her cup, she refolded
her arms. “Most men seem to have an exaggerated idea of their
sexual prowess.”

“Hey, mine is
no exaggeration.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Man, some of
your boyfriends must have severely fallen down the pole of
expectation.” He poured boiling water into the cups.

“You could say
that.”

He glanced up to see her gazing unseeingly at the cups. Man,
she must have had some disappointments. He wondered how many
boyfriends she’d had and figured she must have dated quite a few to
gain the sexual experience to write what she did. Now that required
some probing…of the intellectual kind. Probing of the other kind,
well - beneath lowered lashes, he cast a quick glance at her
generous bosoms - that produced all kinds of intriguing
thoughts.

Retrieving the
milk from the ‘fridge, he topped up the cups. “So, your writing.
This girly porn.”

“It’s not girly
porn.”

“Right.” He
grinned at her.

In return, she
pointed the spoon warningly at him before laying it down on the
counter.

“Your
intellectual
novels,” he continued. “What made you write
them?”

“I’ve always
liked writing.”

“Sure. I
remember the stories you’d write for English classes. You always
got A’s for them. But why this sex stuff?”

“Sex stuff,”
she repeated. “It’s called erotic romance. And I don’t just write
erotic, you know. I do write mainstream romance as well.”

Leaning on the bench, he contemplated her. “But it’s
the
really
sexy
stuff that made you a success.”

She took a deep
breath. “Success is getting a book published. Success is getting
one bought by a reader. Success is having a reader like your book
enough to let you know.”

“Success,” he
said quietly, “is being able to give up your job and write for a
living.”

“Success,” she
returned, “is made from baby steps first. Success is measured by
the personal goals you set. Not everyone who is a successful writer
can give up their day job.”

Studying her,
Alan thought about her words. It kind of made sense. Sophie was
watching him earnestly, her hands wrapped around the cup of Milo. A
stray strand of hair had escaped her braid to tickle along her
cheek.

“You’re
successful,” she said. “You chose a career and went with it.”

“So what if I’d
been a trolley boy?”

“So what if you
wanted to be a trolley boy, got a job doing it and was happy?” she
countered. “You’d be a success in your chosen career.”

“Huh.” He’d
never thought of it that way.

“Don’t you
consider yourself a success?” she asked curiously.

“Never thought
of it like that.” He took a sip of Milo. “I just wanted to be a
cop, applied, got in, trained, and here I am.”

“There you go.”
She smiled.

“So, Soph, when
did you complete your motivational speech course?”

She stared
blankly at him for a minute before reaching out and lightly
slapping his hand. “You jerk!”

He winked. “But
I’m a successful one.”

“So anyway.”
She picked up the cup and blew cautiously on the hot surface. “How
come you’re not married yet?”

“No girl has
been lucky enough to find me.”

“Shouldn’t that
be the other way around?”

“No.”

“I think it
should.”

“You’re
misinformed.” Grabbing the biscuit barrel, Alan dug around inside
it, withdrawing an Anzac biccie which he held out to Soph. When she
shook her head, he dunked it into his own tea. “And you’re not
married.”

“No.”

“None lucky
enough to find you?”

Her gaze
dropped. “You could say that.”

Something in
her tone had him pausing, the dunked biscuit halfway to his mouth.
Dropping his gaze to her hands, he watched the pink-tipped nails
circle slowly around the rim of the cup before dragging down the
sides to tap on the counter top.

Sophie lifted
her head and smiled at him. “What?”

“What was
that?” he asked bluntly.

“What was
what?”

“That.” When
she looked blankly at him, he added, “Did something happen?” When
she just continued to look blank, he popped the tea-softened half
of the biccie into his mouth, chewed and swallowed before pointing
the remaining half at her. “You avoided the question.”

“No, I
didn’t.”

“Yeah, you
did.”

Sophie
frowned.

“‘You
could say that’
isn’t an answer, it’s a fob-off.”

“No, it
isn’t.”

“Yes, it
is.”

“I don’t know
what you mean.” Grabbing the biscuit barrel, she looked through the
top. “Do you have any chocolate biscuits in here?”

Bracing both
hands on the bench, Alan leaned forward. Oh yeah, she knew what he
was doing, it was evident in the way she stiffened slightly even as
her hand entered the barrel to rummage around. If they were lucky,
there’d be more than crumbs left by the time she finished
unintentionally destroying the biscuits.

Master of
unnerving silence, Alan just waited her out. The chick couldn’t
keep her hand in there forever or her gaze averted, not if she
didn’t want him thinking he was correct.

Sure enough,
she finally withdrew her hand with an Anzac biscuit held delicately
between fingertips. Now she busied herself dunking it into her tea
several times before biting off the soaked piece and eating it.
Only then did she lift her gaze to look at him.

Damn if she
hadn’t mastered the innocent expression, big eyes inquiring. If
Alan didn’t know better he’d have thought she’d forgotten the
conversation. However, he knew her better. The Sophie he remembered
was smart, but if she thought she was smart enough to outmanoeuvre
him, she had another think coming.

“So what
happened?” he asked.

She
blinked.

“Don’t even try
it.”

“Try what?”

“Am I going to
have to get my baton and smack the answer out of you?”

“Oh Alan, I
didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

“Oh Sophie,
you’d be the first, but what the hell? I’m game if you are.” He was
more than pleased by the faint pink that crept into her cheeks.

But give the
chick credit, her gaze didn’t flinch. “Why, Alan, do you mean
spanking would be a new sexual concept for you?”

He leaned just
a little closer, deliberately studying her face leisurely.

Sophie looked
back at him calmly.

Alan was just
as calm. “I’m just gonna let that little remark bounce around in my
head for awhile.”

“It’ll have
plenty of space.”

“Then I should
be able to absorb it quickly.” Reaching out, he placed one finger
under her chin to tilt her head back slightly.

Her expression
one of amusement, Sophie stood her ground, her fingers playing with
the half biscuit she still held.

“Spanking,” he
mused out loud. “Let me think.” His gaze slid down her nose. Small,
perky at the end. “Hand to bottom, I’m thinking.”

“Given up on
the baton idea?”

Seemed it would
take more to shake this new, sophisticated Sophie.

“Oh, I think hand to
bare
bottom is a lot hotter.” Alan stroked her cheek
with his thumb as he dropped his gaze to her lips. Pretty, pouty
and pink. A sudden thought popped into his head. Would her nether
lips would be just as pretty and pouty? He knew they’d be pink, a
duskier pink.

That thought
had his blood heating just a little.

Dragging his
thoughts back to the task at hand, that of unnerving Sophie from
her amusement at his expense, he stroked his thumb along her bottom
lip. “So, are we talking spanking standing up, or facedown on the
bed, or-” he couldn’t help the sudden leap of something a little
darker deep inside himself - “over my lap?”

“Your lap?” Her
breath was warm moistness against his thumb and he couldn’t help
but press the tip lightly against that soft, pillowy lip. “Is this
your fantasy?”

“I rather
thought we were talking about our fantasy.”

“
Our
fantasy?”

“Sure. You
brought it up.”

“I just asked
if it was a new concept for you.”

“And I said I’d
think about it.”

“So you’re
thinking.” She glanced away briefly.

“Yeah.” His voice dropped, becoming a little huskier at the
images that popped into his apparently dirty mind. “I’m thinking
spanking. You over my lap, my hand on your bare bum. I’m thinking…”
Oh yeah, he was thinking a lot, he sure as hell was, and they were
a whole lot hotter than he’d ever before
contemplated
.

Her gaze flew back to his and
whoa
, those hazel eyes were darker
and that was no fantasy. Nor was the fact that she was leaning
forward into his hand, her lips parted slightly, her breasts rising
and falling more rapidly beneath the flowered, prim dressing
gown.