Free The Virgin Sex Queen by Angela Verdenius Page B

do to me.”
    “Enjoying
yourself?” she asked.
    “You have no
idea.” Taking another bite, he chewed enthusiastically, still with
his eyes closed. “Oh God, that sweetness on my tongue, that
powdered sugar. Oh honey !”
    “Do you need
some privacy?” She almost snatched the container out of his
hands.
    “Not for
this.”
    “What about
protection?”
    He cracked open
one eyelid to contemplate her. “It’d taste like shit through
rubbers, Soph.”
    “Might protect
your heart.”
    “Sweetness
doesn’t hurt the heart.”
    “The punch it
packs might.”
    “What
punch?”
    She was tempted
to show him but commonsense prevailed. She was no school girl
punching the class clown. Damn it. “Sometimes being a grown up
sucks lemons.” She dumped the container down on the table.
    “Nah,” Alan
said. “Being a grown up is fun.”
    She looked
sourly at him.
    “Oh, sweetie.”
The smile left his face, but his eyes twinkled. “Tell ol’ Alan all
about it.”
    “Not in a
flying fit.”
    “I’m hurt.” He
moved back to the table, his gaze dropping to the doughnut
container. “I need something to lift my spirits.”
    Sighing, Sophie
picked up the container and handed it back to him.
    Grinning, he
took another doughnut and chewed on a bite, resting his hips back
against the table to watch her unpack the groceries. “So what’s all
this?”
    Moving between
the table, cupboards and ‘fridge, Sophie continued packing away the
food and other sundries. “Paying my way.”
    “You don’t have
to do that.”
    “I don’t bum
off people.”
    He eyed the
bunch of silver beet she held. “That’s not health shit, is it?”
    “Got a problem
with it?”
    “Yeah. Tastes
like shit.”
    She almost
burst out laughing at his petulant expression. “Oh, diddums. Does
Daddy Sam make you eat all your veggies and nasty stuff?”
    “Daddy Sam
would only try on risk of getting his arse kicked.”
    “Do you know
what Daddy Sam would do to you if you did that?”
    “Break me in
half?” Lifting one arm, Alan flexed his bicep which, she had to
admit, was pretty impressive. “I’d give him a run for his
money.”
    Alan might be
well-built, but Sam was taller and carried a lot more muscle.
Sophie snorted.
    Alan’s eyes
narrowed.
    Smirking, she
tossed him the tea towel. “Here, sugar lips, wipe your mouth.”
    Gaze still
intent on her, he swiped the powdered sugar from his mouth and gave
the tea towel a snap through the air. Straightening, he snapped it
again and then strode toward her.
    All amusement
had left his face, his expression grim, and coming towards her like
that she had a sudden insight into how he must look on the job when
things turned serious.
    Laughing,
teasing Alan was buried beneath the stern cop, and the
determination in his dark eyes was making her nervous.
    Deliciously
so.
    Oh geez, she
really was kinky, it wasn’t just in her writing.
    Part of her
wanted to run, to have the thrill of a chase, but another part
argued that having him see her fat arse bouncing in front of him
would probably make him run the other way. No sooner had that
thought surfaced cruelly than she watched his jaw tighten and knew
that if she did run, he’d be after her.
    That threat was
in every firm step, every deliberate way he studied her, his gaze
sliding from her face to drop to her breasts, her hips and back up
again.
    Jesus, his eyes
were… hot .
    Her heart rate
shot up, her blood pounded, and she’d cry in Heaven if she died
right now from a heart attack, because she sure as hell wanted to
remember this feeling to write down later.
    Write?
Butterflies started to swoop low in her belly and her breath
caught. Bugger jotting this down, she wanted to remember it for
herself. The delicious combination of alarm, attraction, threat and
heat.
    “Oh Soph.” His
voice was low, hard, as hard as his jaw as he stalked around the
bench and continued coming towards her. “You don’t think I’m a
threat, do you?”
    She refused to
back