The Virgin Sex Queen Read online

Page 16


  Heart pounding, Sophie stared up at him. Sweet baby Jesus, she could not be hearing him correctly.

  Removing his hand, Alan lowered his head, his gaze snaring hers, seeming to burn into her with fiery intensity. “It’d be my pleasure, Soph, to make you personally experience everything you write about, and everything I know. Which is a lot.”

  That last part could have been bragging, but she knew it wasn’t, not the way he said it, serious and definitely not bragging.

  Could she do it? Just the thought of sharing some of those erotic scenes with Alan was enough to make her temperature soar. Burn. Freakin’ blister. They were fantasies of which she’d dreamed up, read about, never tried.

  Cripes, what was happening? Was this all an erotic dream, a punishment played upon her subconscious by her Guardian Angel, mortified by her erotic fantasies, and she’d wake up any minute all alone and yearning?

  But it wasn’t a joke. It was real. Alan above her was very real, his lean hips pressed against her rounded ones, the hard muscles of his chest flattening her breasts as much as they would go, her wrists captured in his strong hands.

  Okay, that was a fantasy scene all its own. She’d written that one plenty of times. Oh all right, to be truthful, she’d also daydreamed about it. And look here, it was happening. To her. Right now.

  By the man who’d taken her virginity in a wild, heated session that left her wanting more, regardless of the fact that she’d probably be walking bow-legged in the morning due to the tenderness between her thighs.

  “Soph?” Alan watched her closely.

  “I just…give me a second.”

  He didn’t respond, simply kept watching her.

  Oh boy, this was a fantasy. A cute bloke wanting her, a man who had skilfully brought her to dizzying heights, who’d played her body expertly. A man who was willing to play out her fantasies, to teach her what he knew, who enjoyed her body, who’d see her naked and-

  Naked? Whoa! That last thought brought her up short.

  He obviously felt her sudden tension for his hold on her wrists, while they didn’t hurt, tightened just a fraction.

  “Okay,” he said calmly, “tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

  “I need to get up.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Alan, let me up.”

  “No.” He used the same calm voice, never flinching, never scowling, and never taking his gaze from her.

  “I can’t do this with you.”

  “Why not?” He was being so reasonable.

  “Well, I just can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Can’t you accept my answer and stop prying?”

  “No.”

  “You’re so reasonable, I want to slap you.”

  “Sure.”

  Her hands fisted. His never relaxed.

  “Look,” she began, trying to sound just as calm and reasonable. “This isn’t going to work. I’m not into - into -“ Into what? Because the lightning might strike any second. She was into him, all right, she just wasn’t into him seeing her in all her naked glory. “I’m just not.”

  He continued to look down at her, his face expressionless, his eyes getting the all-seeing cop-eyes thing going. Oh wow, that was hot.

  And she shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. What was she, a freak? Maybe.

  “You’re afraid,” he drawled.

  “No.”

  “You’re afraid to let yourself go.”

  “No.”

  “You’re afraid to play out your own fantasies.”

  “No.” Maybe a little. Some of them were a little, well…But that wasn’t the reason.

  “You’re afraid to let me see you.”

  “N-no.” Oops, had she given herself away with that little stutter? Going by the hardening look in his eyes, she had. Damn. “Alan, this really isn’t going to-”

  “You’re afraid for me to see you naked.”

  “No.” No stutter, but a definite croak. And her cheeks flaming. Where the hell was her game face? Game face! Game face! Shit, where’s my game face?

  She couldn’t muster a game face to save her life. It certainly wasn’t going to help her now, not with Alan giving her the all-seeing cop eyes. Yay! Wow! Hot! No!

  His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping at the corner of his mouth. Uh-oh. She was coming to recognise that look. He wasn’t pleased. “Remember what I said about rubbishing yourself?”

  Instantly she remembered the surprising smack on her bum, and his threat, too, oh yes, his threat. It was as though every word was burned into her brain.

  He shifted suddenly, releasing her wrists, one hand at her hip. A sudden expert move and she was flat on her belly on the grass, his hand on the small of her back. Panicking instantly, she tried to shove upright only to find his hand holding her down.

  “Oh shit, Alan, don’t you dare! Don’t you dare-” The last of the words were changed to a whoosh of breath as suddenly he was there again, pinning her to the grass, his chest on her back, his long legs trapping hers. Her skirt was up high on her thighs. That almost made her panic even more, except he wasn’t able to see her thighs, not when his groin was snugged against her derrière. His hands captured her wrists again, holding her captive even as she rested on her forearms, half pushed up, her head tilting back.

  His cheek was suddenly there, warm breath tickling the corner of her mouth as he growled, “I’m letting you off on this one, Sophie. But you listen good, all right?”

  She could only nod. Her nerves were zinging, her heart was pounding, and she was all over the place, caught between delicious alarm and terrified thrill.

  “You’re a big girl.”

  Oh crap.

  “Don’t stiffen,” he chided. “Or that reprieve will disappear.”

  “Alan-”

  He turned his head suddenly, his teeth catching her ear lobe in a punishing nip that made her gasp, then moan as he licked it gently. God, the man could tie her up in knots.

  Figuratively speaking, of course.

  “I like you, Soph. I like your body, your lush curves, your generous backside that just begs me to grab a handful and squeeze. I admit I’ve never been attracted to girls like you before-”

  The dreamy feeling fled. “You prick!”

  “But you’re different.” He cut her off smoothly. “I won’t lie, Soph. I’ve had the best of gym bunnies, the model figures, I’ve chased them all. But you-”

  “Aren’t going to get your hands on again!” She wriggled furiously.

  A shift of his body and a smart smack on her backside froze her.

  “That’s better.” He settled himself back on top of her.

  “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “Stop rabbiting on. It didn’t hurt.”

  “You can’t just whack me whenever you feel like it!”

  “Just did. Will do. When you ask for it.”

  “I didn’t ask for it!”

  “You say tomato, I say to-may-toe.”

  “What the hell has that got to do with it?” Furious, she wasn’t game to struggle again. “I’ll yell for Sam.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Damn. No way was she going to let anyone else witness her humiliation. Or cause trouble between friends. “You are so freakin’ sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she said bitterly.

  “Absolutely.” His cheek was beside hers again. “Now listen up, Soph.”

  “I’m all ears,” she snarled.

  He laughed suddenly.

  Great. Wonderful. Cheeks burning, Sophie dropped her forehead to the grass.

  Alan grabbed a handful of her hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Oh, Soph.”

  Sighing, she lifted her head and upper body again, resting on her forearms, turning her head to face him. “Are we finished?”

  Amusement reflected in his eyes, but so did a hint of frustration. “No.”

  “Can you just get to the point so I can go to bed?”

  For several seconds he studied her, his gaze slipping across her face, lingering on her lips before lifting to look at her directly. His expression changed, grew serious. “Sophie, you’re the only one I want.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I swear. You may hate your body, but I don’t.”

  “I don’t hate my body.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “Alan, I’m comfortable with my body, okay? It’s not perfect, but it’s all mine.”

  “Exactly. It’s all you. So if you’re comfortable with your body, why can’t I see it, too?”

  All fight drained from her. She studied his face in turn, that strong face that could be so Cute Boy at times, yet seemed older, wiser, more grown-up when he looked back at her so seriously.

  He waited with seemingly infinite patience for her to speak. She had a feeling he’d wait all night if it took that long. That was nice.

  She sighed. “Alan.”

  “Soph.”

  She gave a small smile. “Alan, you’ve the perfect body, a cute face, and your taste in women runs to the gym bunny type. Now please don’t whack me.”

  He raised one brow.

  “I’m far from perfect. I’m fat and dimply and soft and squidgy. I’m not a raving beauty and I’m told that my words can be a little cutting at times.”

  His brow remained raised.

  “So we’re not exactly a good fit, are we?’

  He rocked gently against her. “You sure about that?”

  She swallowed. “Yes.” Oh please, rock against me like that again!

  “So you reckon I’m that shallow?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that, but yeah.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Alan the chick-chaser. The good-time boy. The teaser. I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Sure.”

  His mouth quirked just the tiniest bit before he grew serious again. “You’re wrong about me, Soph.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah.”

  The world around them was dark, lit in the distance by the occasional street light. The last house light had gone out at some time, leaving them in the moonlit backyard. It was cosy, intimate, as though they were the only two people in the whole world.

  “Yeah, I have a laugh, Soph,” Alan said quietly. “I tease. I like to laugh. It’s just me. Yes, I’m a bit of a chick-chaser, I don’t deny that. I was looking for something, and then along came you.”

  “Declaring undying love now?” she asked dryly, even though her heart dropped a little.

  “No.” His gaze didn’t waver, his patience didn’t slip. “I’m just laying myself out to you, warts and all.”

  As if he had warts on that perfect body.

  “I say things at inappropriate moments.”

  It was Sophie’s turn to raise an eyebrow, though she couldn’t stop the small grin.

  Alan’s eyes warmed. “But I’m not a complete arsehole, Soph. I’ve held an old woman while she cried on my shoulder after I had to tell her that her husband had died of a heart attack at the local supermarket and didn’t make it to the hospital. I’ve seen some of those cute gym bunnies drunk and disorderly, yelling abuse and swearing. I’ve seen people bashed for no good reason, I’ve arrested people, I’ve seen the worse side of humanity. Yet I can still laugh, still see the good in people. You know why?”

  “Because you have a weird sense of humour?”

  “See, you do get me.” He grinned. “I can still laugh because I have good friends, family, life is still worth living. No matter what happens, the birds are still singing to greet the dawn, the sun still rises, the rain still falls, a friend still rings to say g’day. The gym bunnies still run, the kids still go to school, and I still get a wave and a thank you from some people. And life is still fun.”

  Wow, and this time the ‘wow’ wasn’t lustful. Sophie studied him. This was an Alan she hadn’t even known existed. He really thought like that?

  “I still tease, I still laugh, I still enjoy life.” Alan kissed her gently on the corner of her mouth. “I’m just me, Alan Cooper. And then you walked back into my life and it become a whole lot brighter.”

  “Because you had someone new to torment?” She couldn’t help but ask, fascinated at this new insight to Cute Boy.

  “Precisely. You made me laugh more, think more, tease more. Then I just plain wanted you. And I had you. And it’s not enough.” He nuzzled the corner of her mouth. “You're not perfect, I’m not perfect. Well, I mean, I’m close to perfect, but I’m not God or anything.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “You jerk.”

  “My humbleness is amazing.” He smiled at her, but his gaze remained steady. “Come on, Soph, let’s have some fun. It doesn’t have to be serious. No self-consciousness. I like you just the way you are, curves and sharp tongue and all.”

  Her gaze dropped. There was no doubting his sincerity, it was so plain in his eyes, in his words, in his tone. The only thing holding her back from grasping at some fun, some true sexual experiences, was her own fears.

  “Alan…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m a little afraid.” She frowned up at him. “And if you ever laugh at me, if you ever smirk at me naked, I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll tell Sam and he’ll wipe the floor with you.”

  “I’d never laugh at you naked, Soph,” he stated quietly. “I’m not that kind of bloke. You need to trust me.”

  Trust Alan? Yes, she trusted him to keep her safe, to laugh with her, to tease her, but she didn’t want to see the distaste in his eyes when he saw her naked.

  “Don’t.” He brushed a butterfly kiss along her cheeks to her eye and then the temple. “Don’t torture yourself over something that will never happen. Give yourself to me, Soph. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “I have to go back home after my holiday here.”

  “So we have this time to explore your fantasies.” His mouth trailed down, skimming her ear to tickle the side of her neck. “Together.”

  Her heart was tripping inside her chest. “All of them?”

  “I’ll control the fantasies, Soph.”

  “Why you?”

  When he looked at her, his eyes gleamed. “Who’s the experienced one here?”

  “Oh. Okay.” And it was done.

  ~*~

  He couldn’t believe he’d done it. Sophie Willow had agreed to let him have free access to her luscious body.

  Okay, she probably didn’t see it in quite the same way, but it was the same thing. Tomato, to-may-toe.

  Breaking past some of her barriers was going to be challenging, though, and downright fun. He wondered just how far she wanted to go with those hot erotic scenes she penned, but if she was game, so was he. Hell yes. Some of them he already knew, had done, some he hadn’t, and a couple, well, they actually made him a little nervous, not that he’d ever admit it to Sophie, much less anyone else.

  Holy cow, Playroom was a bit too much. But if Sophie wanted to go that far, well, he’d manfully give it a go - except he drew the line at hurting her, he really did. No way was he into pain, either giving or receiving. That was the line he drew.

  The best thing was that she didn’t know that, which meant he could keep her guessing.

  Oh boy, it was going to be carnal fun.

  One thing he had to work on, though, was her self-consciousness about her body. Personally, he thought her body was an intriguing playground, all lush swells and deep dips. Yeah, the thought of all those lush curves had him shifting in the car seat.

  Mike cast him an expressionless look.

  “What?” Alan demanded.

  “You wouldn’t squirm so much if you did your job and stopped reading those books.”

  “I’m researching.”

  “Huh.” Mike peered at read the title before sitting back against the seat. “Taming Mandy.” His gaze fell to the other book tucked partially under Alan’s thigh. “Soldier’s Command.” He tapped the one on the dashboard. “Hot Sin.”

  Alan waited for something further but Mike just went back to silently watching the road.

  “I’m on a coffee break,” Alan informed him.

  “And instead of being back at the station, we had to swing past Marty’s house to pick up these books and skulk under a tree so that you can read romances.” Cold eyes swung back to him. “Erotic romances.”

  “Hey, I don’t want the other blokes to get their hands on this stuff until I’ve finished.”

  “Yes, because they’re all lining up for the books.”

  “It’s certainly pulled more than one and two word sentences from you.” Alan smirked. “Want to read one?”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “Ooohhh, Mikey, you make me all shivery and jittery with your masterful, sexual prowess!”

  Cold eyes.

  “Okay, okay.” He dog-eared the page, closed the book and slid on his mirrored sunglasses. “Let’s go. Law to keep, order to maintain, all that shit.”

  Mike turned back to face the road.

  “Oh please, don’t give me the cold shoulder. You’re just dying to read Heavy Handed.”

  Mike started the car, indicated, checked the traffic and pulled out onto the road.

  “You might find some tips to help spice up your love life,” Alan suggested, enjoying himself immensely.

  Winding Mike up was his life’s mission, among other things. He liked the big lug, but the man could keep a stoic face through almost anything. He was determined to break that stoic expression one day. Without getting himself broken doing it.

  “Maybe you could do more than wear your yellow ducky boxers to get the bedroom heated up.”

  That big, square, hard jaw tightened.

  Grinning, Alan looked out the car window. Yep, the yellow ducky boxers got Mike every time. The tightening of that granite jaw was a sign he was annoyed. But Alan was no fool, annoying King Kong was one thing, pushing too many buttons would be just wrong. And stupid.

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