The Virgin Sex Queen (3 page)

“I’m sure.”
Sarcasm practically dripped from her words. “Where’s Sam?”

“Right here,” a
deep voice said from behind her. “Just listening to you and Alan
exchanging verbal barbs like old times.”

Sam stood in
the doorway, one hand holding the security screen open. As soon as
Sophie turned around, Alan’s housemate grabbed her hand and yanked
her to him for a hug. Only Sophie didn’t squawk this time, she
quite happily returned it.

Figured, Alan
thought, turning away to go to the little car. Sam and Sophie had
always been close, even when her family had left the city all those
years ago.

Popping the car
boot open, he took out the suitcase, the overnight bag and the
laptop, returning to the house to take them to the spare bedroom in
which Sophie would be sleeping. Back out at the car, he reached in
for the box of books, only to stop and grin. Shy little Sophie
Willow writing sexy books. Who’d have guessed it? He couldn’t
resist riffling through the box, his brows rising in appreciation
at some of the covers. Erotic covers, entwining bodies, a few bared
bottoms, and some really hot embraces.

Picking up one
of the books, he flicked through some pages, his eyebrows shooting
up almost into his hairline.

Wow, little
Sophie Willow had grown up. A lot. A hell of a lot, and he didn’t
mean height or width, either, but sexually – hoo boy.

And how
interesting.

Grinning, he
popped the book back on top of the pile, flipped the flaps closed
and took the box from the car seat, resting it on one raised knee
as he beeped the car locks shut. Hefting the box easily, he went
back into the house.

Hearing voices
in the kitchen, he glanced in as he started to pass the doorway.
Sophie was leaning back against the kitchen bench, a glass of iced
coffee in one hand and a biscuit in the other as she chatted to
Sam. She glanced at the doorway as Alan paused, and he couldn’t
resist giving her a slow wink before continuing down the hall and
depositing the box on the floor of her bedroom.

“I work a lot
of nights,” Sam was saying as Alan walked into the kitchen. “But
I’ve got a spare key cut for you, so you can come and go as you
please.” He fished in one pocket of his shorts, fished in the other
pocket, patted the non-existent pocket on his t-shirt, turned and
checked the bowl on the end of the kitchen bench, then paused to
push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Huh. I’m sure I
put them down here somewhere.”

Amused as
always by his absentminded roomie, Alan glanced at Sophie to see a
big smile curve her lips, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“No point
asking where you last put them.” She laughed.

“I swear I put
them close to hand, Soph.”

Still laughing,
she moved up beside him and stuck one finger in the bowl of
knick-knacks, stirring them around as she gazed into it. “Are you
sure you put them in here?”

“Well, yes.”
Adjusting his glasses, he bent down to gaze into the bowl.

Alan poured out
a glass of iced coffee from the carton that Sam had left on the
sink. Bracing one hand on the bench, he leaned forward to gaze down
into the bowl as well. “Did you check your sock drawer?”

A strand of
Sophie’s hair which had escaped the elastic band she’d tied it back
with tickled across his chin.

“Why would he
look in his sock drawer?” She queried, holding up a set of keys and
looking from it to Sam, who shook his head.

“Why wouldn’t
he?” Alan replied.

“Because he
wouldn’t keep keys in his sock drawer…” Sophie’s head jerked up and
she looked at Alan.

He grinned back
at her.

“You are such
an arse,” she said. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Leaning
comfortably on the bench on his elbow, Alan rested his chin in one
hand and smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Sam moved from
the bowl to start riffling through the junk drawer on the other
side of the bench, his much bigger frame crowding Alan, who simply
shifted a little further down.

A breeze
ruffled the curtains, bringing the faint scent of her perfume
wafting through his nostrils. Nice. He did like women’s perfume. On
a woman, of course.

Sophie’s eyes
narrowed. She’d always had pretty eyes, the ends tilted slightly
upward giving her a faintly exotic look. His gaze dropped to her
mouth. He didn’t remember those lips being so lush, though, all
plump and pink with a faint sheen of lipstick.

“I wouldn’t,”
she replied. “How the hell did you become a cop with your
attitude?”

“My attitude is
just fine.” He winked. “I’m a professional at work.”

“Aren’t we
all?”

“With your
writing, too?”

“Huh?”

Enjoying
himself immensely, Alan lifted the glass to his lips while locking
his gaze on hers. “How professional are you in regards to your
writing?”

“What do you
mean?”

Oh ho, she
knew, all right. Those little apple cheeks were going a faint
pink.

Alan took a sip
of iced coffee before quirking a brow. “I mean, how much research
do you do for your books?”

Almost
immediately her expression became shuttered. “Enough.”

Sam was now rummaging in the cupboard below the sink. “I know
I put the keys
somewhere
.”

“You have some
pretty spicy stories in that box.”

“Couldn’t
resist snooping?”

“Couldn’t help
but seeing when we searched your car after stopping you.”

Sam’s head
popped into view from behind the bench, his brow furrowed as he
looked across at Sophie. “Were you speeding again?”

“No.”

“Liar,” said
Alan. “She was. Mike and I caught her.”

“Tell-tale-tit,” Sophie shot back.

“Sticks and
stones and all that shit.”

“Cripes.” Sam
straightened. “How much did you get fined, Soph?”

“Nothing. I got
a warning.”

“I only warn
once.” Alan smiled slowly, unable to resist adding, “Next time it’s
handcuffs.”

“That’s a bit
excessive, don’t you think?” Sam opened a cupboard above the sink.
“Where are those damned keys?”

“What’s with
the handcuffs?” Sophie asked.

“
Punishing Laura
.” When she looked blankly at him, Alan winked. “Page forty
one.”

Her eyes
widened. “You read it?”

“Browsed through it before I brought the box in.
Very
interesting.” He
waggled his eyebrows at her. “So, shy little Sophie Willow, just
how much research goes into your books?”

Arms folded in
front of her, she took a step back. Hmmm, even more
interesting.

“I don’t
believe you’re that interested in my books, Alan. In fact…”

He nodded
encouragingly.

“In fact…”
Bracing both hands on the counter, Sophie leaned forward.

Chin still in one hand, Alan found himself face to face with
her, and she was very close. She leaned right in until he could see
the flecks of green in her hazel eyes and her perfume teased his
senses, and damn, when
had
her lips gotten so lush?

Entranced, he
could only watch as she lowered her gaze to his mouth and slowly,
ever so slowly, lick those plump, pink lips. Those thick, black
eyelashes swept down to cover her eyes and when they rose again so
she could look at him, his heart felt like it stopped in his
chest.

Thunk
. Just stopped. Right then.
Because the heat in her eyes, the blatant sexual invitation, just
took his breath away.

The clock on
the far wall ticked the seconds away.

Jesus, when had
Sophie Willow gotten so…so… Every thought blurred as she leaned
closer, and closer still, until he could feel the warmth of her
breath on his lips, across his cheek as she moved closer, and then
her cheek brushed his, silky smooth, and her breath was in his ear,
and God above but he felt that moist breath all the way down to the
tips of his toes.

Not to mention
his hardening shaft.

“In fact…”

Jesus, she’d just blown lightly across the skin just below
his ear, making an involuntary shiver go right through him. His
hold on the glass tightened. His heart decided to resume beating,
only now it was going
thud thud thud
and gathering momentum.

“In fact…”

“Yes?” His eyes
closed as he savoured the scent of her, the warmth, the feminine
presence, the strong hint of sexual heat.

“I think you’re
just a perverted little boy, as you always were.”

His ear was
given a hard jerk and his elbow skidded across the bench. Without
the support his chin almost hit the hard surface and he only just
managed to stop his slide to pain.

Pushing
upwards, he stared at Sophie. Hands on hips, she had stepped back
out of reach and was watching him with one eyebrow raised in amused
disdain.

Okay, that
should have been like a bucket of cold water to his libido but he
could still feel that moist, warm breath in his ear and smell her
sweet scent. One thing he was sure of though-

“Here!” A set
of keys appeared before Alan’s eyes, the big hand holding them
giving them a shake. “I knew I’d put them somewhere.”

Reaching out to
take the keys, Sophie smiled her thanks at her cousin before
smirking just a little at Alan.

Yeah, one thing
he was sure of, and that was that Sophie Willow wasn’t shy little
Sophie Willow anymore. This Sophie Willow was a lot more
sophisticated, earthier, and obviously sexually experienced. And
those sexual experiences, going by her actions and those of her
book characters, bordered on all kinds of delicious, erotic, a
little – possibly a whole lot more – kinkier kind.

Sophie Willow
was no virginal, shy woman. Yep, sweet little Sophie Willow, the
girl he used to tease mercilessly in school, had grown up, and he
wasn’t certain if it was for the best. In fact, he didn’t know
whether to be disappointed or not. With almost any other woman he’d
have been delighted. For the first time in his whole life, Alan was
actually confused.

And Sophie,
damned her voluptuous hide, knew it. Those lush lips smirked, the
gleam in her eyes one of pure evil.

“Come on, Soph,
I’ll show you to your room.” Placing his hand on her shoulder, Sam
steered her towards the doorway. “Get you all settled in. After a
two day drive with one stopover at a motel, you must be feeling a
little weary.”

All Alan could
do was raise his glass in salute to her and try to be cool.

Sophie smiled
sweetly at him and left the room with Sam.

Sweet. Yeah.
Not. Sweet Virgin Girl had turned into Exotic Sex Queen.

~*~

That had been a close call. Luckily she could draw on a
character she was writing about right now, slip into their mind and
mode and act on it. On the character. Act
the
character. It wasn’t the first
time that Sophie had faced down a bloke who thought he could be
sexually suggestive just because he’d read her book, seen the
cover, maybe even just read the blurb on the back of the book or
seen his girlfriend or wife, sister, whatever, read it. It had
happened a time or two. Not to mention, she’d faced a few of her
relatives and workmates, and people who’d bought her books from her
back when she’d first self-published
and had been marketing
herself.

Thanks to her
best friend, fellow writer, Ghost, she’d learned to put on what he
called the ‘game face’.
Yeah, she’d soon learned
to put on that second face, and at times take on some of the
personalities of her characters.

Survival mode
through fantasy. One just could never have guessed that would come
in handy, especially today. Man, putting that teasing jerk in his
place had felt good. In fact, it had felt bloody awesome. Never in
all the time that she’d known him in the distant past had she ever
been able to get back at his teasing with a quick quip. Nope, this
was the first time, and if he continued to be an arse it wasn’t
going to be the last time.

Now she felt
rather good about being in the same house as him, knowing she could
hold her own.

But it still
didn’t explain one thing. She looked up at the broad shoulders of
her cousin as he strode down the passage with his easy, lazy gait.
“Why didn’t you tell me your housemate was Alan Cooper?”

“Alan?” Sam
scratched his thick thatch of sandy hair, causing several strands
of sun-streaked locks to come loose from the tie holding it at the
nape of his neck. “I didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He
pushed the glasses up his nose and stopped in front of an open
door. “Didn’t think it mattered.”

“It didn’t.
Doesn’t.”

“There you go,
then.” Smiling like the big, gentle bear he was, Sam gestured to
the bedroom. “Here you go, Soph.”

She peered past
him and smiled in delight. The bed was huge and covered in a
flower-patterned quilt which matched the curtains. The carpet was
thick, the furniture light-coloured wood and gleaming with polish.
The clock on the wall had a flower pattern on the face and there
was an actual cross-stitch on the wall of a garden. The whole room
had an old, English country charm to it. “Your sister’s been
decorating, hasn’t she?”

“I let Chelsea
loose on the guest bedroom.” At Sophie’s sideways glance, Sam
grinned a little sheepishly. “Apparently my style of furniture is
too masculine to fill the whole house. She reckons at least one
room needs a feminine touch.”

“Really? I
actually like what I’ve seen so far. I’ll have to check the house
out after I unpack.”

“Good plan.”
Crossing to the other side of the room, Sam opened the window to
let in the breeze. “Across the hall is the bathroom and Alan’s
bedroom. Mine is next to you. Unfortunately, you have to share the
bathroom with us blokes.”