The Virgin Sex Queen

by Angela Verdenius

  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.

  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.”