The Virgin Sex Queen (15 page)

His gaze flew
to hers and held, seeming to bore into her.

“Ummm…Alan?”

Sam strode
across to peer down at the spray can. “What’s the prob?”

Uncertain what
to make of Alan’s weird reaction, Sophie turned to Sam. “The air in
this will go out fast once it’s on the Pavlovas. We really need
whipping cream.” She placed the spray can down, flicking her finger
over the nozzle. “It’s yummy, sure, and works well if you’re going
to eat it straight away but-”

Alan gave a
choked sound.

Confused,
Sophie glanced at him. “I’ll go and get some whipping cream, then
we can prepare the Pavs early and-”

“I’ll go.” Alan
barked out the two words, swung on his heel and left the kitchen in
long strides.

Sam’s looked at
Sophie. “What was that all about?”

“Not a clue.
Hard day at work, maybe?”

“Huh.” Sam
spooned in more rice salad. “Not like him. Maybe he’s got girl
trouble or something.”

Or something
was right. The sound of Alan’s car and the garage door going up
signalled that he’d gone out the front door instead of the door
from the kitchen to the garage.

Who the hell
knew what went through that man’s mind?

“Well, I better
go out and dust the barbie off, get things set up.” Sam rinsed off
the plate and left it on the draining board.

SJ followed him
outside to sit and watch and generally get in the way.

By the time
Alan returned he seemed more his normal self, except for the
definite glint in his eyes when he handed her the container of
cream. Taking one of the cut strawberries, he popped it into his
mouth and chewed slowly. “Sweet.”

“Good to know.”
She eyed him closely. “You all right?” What a turn-up for the books
that was, she asking him.

“Never better.”
He smiled slowly, inexplicable, making her just a little wary. “You
know, Soph, there is a use for that spray cream.”

“Yeah. You eat
it.”

“Exactly.” With
a wink, he walked from the room, going through the kitchen door to
the veranda beyond.

Now what the
heck was that all about? Turning, Sophie watched as he approached
Sam, who was making sure the tables and chairs were in the shade.
What did he mean about eating spray cream? What could he possibly
be on about? And he’d looked so strangely at her while eating that
strawberry, what was that about? Saying it was sweet and…uh-oh. She
blinked. Surely he couldn’t have…did he truly mean…how could he
have…
oh shit
. Her cheeks went fiery red. He’d somehow found
that decadent scene from
Hot in the Kitchen
. That was the
only explanation for it.

Surely not.
Surely it was just a coincidence? It meant nothing. How would he
have even gotten a copy of the book and why would he read it? No,
no, it was just her imagination going into overdrive again. Damn
it!

Placing a hand
to her forehead, Sophie blew out a breath. Forget it, she had to
forget it and concentrate on having a good time at the BBQ, meeting
some old school buddies and just having fun.

Nodding, she
glanced up at the clock. Just enough time to whip the cream,
decorate the Pavlovas, and have a shower and change of clothes.

There was half
an hour before the guests arrived by the time she was back in the
kitchen, the light summer dress swishing around her knees, her
low-heeled sandals clicking on the tiles. Outside, SJ was perched
on one of the chairs watching Sam who had the BBQ going, burning
the fire down to a more cook-able level. Like everything Sam did,
the flames were high. He even had the garden hose by his side just
in case, and she had to laugh at the sight of him standing there,
one hand in his pocket, a can of Coke in his hand and the hose by
his feet, all relaxed and content while watching the fire.

Alan entered
the kitchen pulling a t-shirt on, his head popping out of the top
to reveal dishevelled dark hair. He looked her up and down.
“Pretty, Soph.”

She smiled.
“Thanks. You don’t scrub up half bad yourself.” No, he scrubbed up
bloody yummily, even in cargo shorts and t-shirt. “Nice
thongs.’

“Hey, it’s a
barbie with friends. I’m not wearing dress shoes.” He crossed to
the ‘fridge and opened it up. “You did a good job with the
Pavs.”

She rechecked
the stack of paper plates. “How would you normally do it?”

“We throw the
Pavs, cream, bananas, strawberries, spoons, knife and open can of
passionfruit on the table and help ourselves.”

“Oh, very a la`
carte dining. I’m impressed.” When he didn’t answer, she added,
“Not that you can’t eat it however you want.”

When silence
was still the only answer, she turned around to find him looking at
her with that glint in his eyes.

A very wicked
glint.

A very hot,
wicked glint.

“Alan?” She
eyed him warily, something that was fast becoming a habit this
afternoon.

Reaching in, he
took the spray can of cream out and shook it, watching her the
whole time.

Wondering what
he was up to, she watched as he tipped his head back and sprayed
cream into his open mouth, closing it as soon as it was full of
cream.

Waiting for him
to swallow, she was surprised when instead he dropped the can on
the shelf and swung around to stride across the floor towards her,
the ‘fridge door swinging shut in his wake.

Now the wicked
glint in his eyes held something else, something darkly
mischievous, something almost sexually teasing, and her eyes
widened when she realised that look was focussed on her and no one
else.

Not that there
was anyone else in the kitchen, she just couldn’t believe that any
man was looking at her like that, much less the yummy man
approaching her with determination.

A combined
thrill of alarm and delight slid through her even as she held out
one hand to ward him off. “Alan, what-”

She didn’t have
time to say anymore, because he simply caught her up in his arms
and pulled her hard against him. In the same swift move, his thumb
caught her chin, opening her already slightly agape mouth so that
when he covered her mouth with his, the first thing she got was the
heat of his lips, the second thing she registered was the taste and
silkiness of cream.

His tongue met
hers, slick with cream, marauding through her mouth as he spread
the cream between them, sharing it with her in a possessive
manoeuvrer that had her meeting him eagerly, her tongue slipping
through the cream, taking what he gave her, tasting cream and Alan
and male essence all at once.

It was a heady
combination that had her gripping his shoulders, pressing against
him, kissing him back and swallowing, wanting more, craving
more.

Suddenly cream
was her favourite dairy product.

She didn’t know
how long he held her, kissing her deeply, giving and taking of both
cream and essence, invading her senses, but when he drew back she
could only open her eyes and stare dreamily up at him.

Alan wasn’t
smiling, no humour in his eyes, a serious expression having swamped
the mischievousness that had previously been present.

Immediately
feeling self-conscious, she started to push away.

“Don’t.” His
hold on her tightened. “Soph-”

A knock sounded
at the door, a horn tooting in the driveway and then Sam’s voice as
he yelled from the bathroom, “Alan! Can you get the door? I’m in
the dunny!”

Alan swore
softly as he let her go. “We’ll talk after.”

She wasn’t sure
there was anything to talk about, her nerves felt shattered -
deliciously so - and she barely had time to compose herself before
Elsie walked through the door carrying an iced cake, a huge smile
wreathing her face.

“Sophie! What a
lovely evening for a barbie. Frank.” She turned to the lean man
behind her. “Frank, this is Sophie. I told you about her.”

Frank smiled
easily. “Hi Sophie.”

“Where can I
put this?” Elsie looked around.

“Oh - um, here,
right here.” Forcing herself to concentrate, Sophie patted the
bench. “Unless it needs to go in the ‘fridge?”

“Not at all.”
Putting the cake down, Elsie looked at Sophie. “What’s that on your
face?”

“Huh?” Lifting
her hand, Sophie felt her cheek.

“No, on the
corner of your mouth.”

Wiping at the
indicated place, Sophie stared down at the cream on her fingertip.
One glance up to see Alan staring right back at her with a hot
gleam in his eyes and her blood was suddenly pounding in her
pulses. Not to mention her untouched nether regions.

Talk about an
education. Talk about
Hot in the Kitchen
. That spray cream
scene just didn’t cut the mustard compared to what Alan had just
done. What he’d just done was so much more intimate.

Because it had
really happened. To her.

Where was her
notepad? Hell, forget the notepad, she wanted to tattoo this
sensation on her arm so she’d never forget it.

Sam came into
the kitchen, passing in front of Alan, and when Alan was once again
in view he was chatting to another man who had appeared.

Chelsea came
minutes later, her husband, Max, telling everyone loudly that they
were late because Chels had changed her clothes three times.
Chelsea merely flipped him the bird before descending on Sophie
with delight.

“About time you
had more company than these two blokes,” Chelsea declared. “Good
grief, sharing a bachelor pad is enough to make even the most
patient of girls cry.”

“It’s not too
bad.” Sophie grinned. “Sam cleared out the porn mags and condoms,
apparently.”

“Oh, ew and ew.
I don’t need to hear that kind of thing about my brother.”

Sam leered.
“Did I ever tell you about the time Susie Bancock and I-”

Chelsea put her
fingers in her ears. “La-la-la-la-la!”

Laughing, Max
pulled her outside, his other hand catching Sophie’s elbow and
taking her with them.

Several people
turned up early and it wasn’t long before everyone was sitting at
the table, laughing and chatting politely, Sophie being the
grown-up and putting the deliciously wicked episode in the back of
her mind to take out later in private and examine.

Several people
she knew, though she didn’t remember Alan’s friend Marty, who had
apparently gone to a private school. What was surprising was his
wife. The handsome Marty was totally besotted with the generously
proportioned woman who stuck close beside him. Belle Lawson was
pretty, her eyes laughing as she looked up at her husband, and the
love between them was plain to see. He was attentive to her, his
arm on the back of her chair, leaning towards her protectively even
as his head was turned away to speak to Frank.

All in all
there were four married couples - Chelsea and Max, Marty and Belle,
Debbie and Brian, Elsie and Frank - and four singles - Alan, Sam, a
sweet girl called Laura who was also a nurse, and Sophie.

Apart from
Debbie, Sophie thought she liked the women at the table. Belle was
friendly, Laura was shyly sweet, Chelsea was a laugh, Elsie was a
chatterbox, but Debbie was, well, a frigid bitch. Hey, first
impressions weren’t good for Debbie, and her continued barely
hidden contempt wasn’t lost on Sophie.

Taking a seat
right beside Sophie, Alan placed a tin of Diet Coke before her.
“Okay like this or do you want a glass?”

“No, this is
fine, thank you.” Surprised but pleased at his courtesy, she smiled
briefly at him before looking across the table at anyone, because
if she looked too long at Alan her gaze would fall to his mouth and
the memory of that cream-filled kiss that still had the power to
make her toes curl.

Elsie was
chatting about books, her husband talking to the men about cars.
Somehow the table had managed to shift into two halves - the women
at the bottom half talking about books, the men at the top half
talking about cars, so two conversations were able to go at
once.

Invariably the
talk turned to books and genres, and sure as God made green apples
the talk turned to Sophie’s books and the erotic romance genre.

“Hot,” Elsie
pronounced. “That’s all I can say, hot hot hot.” She fanned one
hand in front of her face.

“I know!”
Chelsea grinned. “Some of those scenes from
Fire
had me
thinking about sneaking into the Fire Station to have my bad way
with the firemen.”

Debbie’s smile
grew fixed.

“But then I
remembered that I was married.” Chelsea winked.

“
Playroom
,” Belle said suddenly, her cheeks a delicate shade
of pink. “That was a little revealing.”

“A little?”
Elsie laughed. “Oh my God, there was nothing little about what was
used in that playroom!”

Game face
on
. Cool and in control, Sophie smiled. No one could faze her.
She had to remember to bring Ghost a present back, his coaching had
been a blessing. “Thanks.”

“As for
Heavy Handed
,” Chelsea added, “that spanking scene! I know I
shouldn’t have found it sexy, but holy cow, punishment has surely
never been hotter.”

“Huh,” Belle
mused. “I haven’t read it yet. I couldn’t imagine a spanking being,
you know, sexy.” She cast a furtive sidelong look at Marty who,
even though he wasn’t really listening, must have sensed her gaze
because his fingers started caressing her shoulder idly.

Belle smiled,
all soft and dreamy, and snuggled closer to him. He automatically
shifted to accommodate her.

That gesture
just warmed Sophie’s heart. How easy they fit together, he attuned
to her mood. Now that was love.

“
Taming
Mandy
,” Laura said suddenly, surprising Sophie. “That had some
very revealing scenes.”

“Oh, tell me
about it.” Elsie grinned. “Oral sex was never so good!” She glanced
sideways to where her husband sat oblivious. “Though Frank did
learn a thing or two.” She giggled, her cheeks going rosy.