Double Dare (6 page)

Rosie must have sensed something was wrong because she hit pause on her DVD. “What’s up, buttercup?” she asked Katy as she threw a towel around her neck, dabbing at her flushed cheeks.

Katy opened the box and shoved it under Rosie’s nose. “What are these and what am I supposed to do with them?”

Rosie looked inside and smiled. “Those are a lovely set of Ben Wa balls. Whoever gave them to you has very nice and very expensive taste. Those look like they’re gold.”

“How do you know someone gave them to me?”

“Because you sure as hell didn’t go out and buy them yourself,” Rosie chortled, “especially if you don’t know what they are!”

Katy’s eyes narrowed. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

Rosie grinned and leaned forward. “Insert them into your vagina, and use your Kegel muscles to keep them inside.”

“Why?”

Rosie smiled slyly. “They’re a slow burn, girl. A subtle arousal. Wear those for a few hours and I promise you, you’ll not only be ready to rock and roll, but wanting to in a very bad way.”

Katy blushed, unable to discuss sex with her friend. She really was uptight. “Ah. Okay, then. Thank you.”

As she turned to leave, Rosie grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, missy. Who gave them to you?”

This time it was Katy’s turn to smirk knowingly. “A sexy-as-sin cop. And that’s all I’m going to tell you right now.” She didn’t stop as Rosie followed her to her own apartment door, begging and pleading for more information.

“Good night, Rosie,” she said over her shoulder, then closed the door on her friend. Despite the sensual nature of the contents of the box, Katy didn’t feel particularly sexy at the moment. Her career was of the utmost importance to her. And it was, for all intents and purposes, gone. If she weren’t so mentally fatigued, she would invite herself to sit down at Rosie’s table and tell her what happened. The conversation would end with Rosie on the rampage, and she was just too exhausted to be dragged along. Maybe tomorrow …

She felt afraid, alone, and mourned the fact that she had no one to hold her and comfort her and tell her everything would be all right.

Knights in shining armor didn’t exist. Besides, she’d always relied on herself.

This is just another test.

She was thirty years old, and weary of being tested. She wanted more. Someone to be tested with. So far her choice in men had cost her her self-esteem and now her job. What would Simon cost her? Her self-respect? Her heart?

She looked at the box in her hand. Experimenting with the Ben Wa balls was the logical next step in her sexual awakening. Why stop when she had come this far, despite the cacophony of crap swirling around her? When all else failed, she still had a hot cop who was, at least for the moment, into her.

She smiled, feeling really good all of a sudden despite the demise of her career. That was not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.

She disinfected the balls, and with some of the lubricant the Sugar Plum fairy had insisted she buy, she slathered them up and inserted them into her vagina. Standing up straight, she stood immobile for a moment. She could feel some slight pressure from the weight of the balls. Gingerly, she clenched her muscles. Hmm, not really that exciting. When she took her first step, she gasped. The subtle brush along the inside of her vaginal walls felt odd, but good. She took another step and gasped again. By the time she was done showering, she was warm and aroused down there.

It had been a long day, and as the sun sank behind the Golden Gate, Katy’s stomach growled. She was famished. Naked, she strode from her bedroom to the marble foyer and dead-bolted the front door. She loved Rosie, but her barging in had to stop. Especially, Katy smiled, since she was going to remain naked.

Opening up the doors of her Sub-Zero goliath of a fridge, she stared at a six-pack of Guinness, a dehydrated basket of blueberries, an empty jar of Adam’s peanut butter, a pint of half-and-half, and a plastic container of wilted butter leaf lettuce. So much for whipping something up, which was fine since she was dying for a Little Star thin crust with the works and extra cheese. She’d earned it today.

She made the call.

One thing Katy always had on hand was wine. Her wine clubs delivered on time three times a month. The resident busybody, Rosie, was always available to sign for them. She uncorked a bottle of merlot and poured a full glass. Sipping, she walked into the living room and plopped on the sofa.

She wasn’t much for TV, and had no idea what movies were the rage. She grabbed the remote and hit the On button. Movies had been the only thing she and Evan did outside of sex in her apartment. They’d always go to the small dive theaters and sit in the back, blending in with the darkness. At the time, she hadn’t realized why. All along she had been his dirty little secret and now she was the one paying the price.

A revenge flick sounded good. What was that one with Glenn Close and Michael Douglas? Sipping her wine, she scrolled back and forth through the endless lists but kept coming back to
9 ½ Weeks
.

She wasn’t a big Micky Rourke fan … but she had to admit, even as her muscles constricted around the Ben Wa balls, she had become an instant fan of forbidden obsessive sex. Maybe she could learn a thing or two from Kim Basinger.

Katy settled into the sofa, and as she moved her pelvis back she caught her breath. Oh, my, that—she moved her pelvis forward, clasping the balls—that felt good. As she slowly rocked back and forth on the sofa, light pulses of pleasure radiated throughout her body.

Closing her eyes, and supporting her body on her hands as if she were in a rocking chair, she sat back, and rocked. Her nipples hardened as her arousal intensified. The balls languidly rolled around inside of her, touching and teasing that spot only Simon had touched. Her G spot was real, and she was fortunate that it was so sensitive to stimuli. As a moan escaped her throat, Katy exhaled. The balls felt good, but what she needed was penetration.

Her cell phone pinged next to her on the end table, and she nearly came. Simon had conditioned her well. And oh so easily.

What are you wearing?

Her muscles clenched the balls tightly. Ah, Simon. She couldn’t resist him. Closing her eyes, Katy bit her bottom lip to keep from calling his name.

She hadn’t lied when she’d said he was her kryptonite.

None of your business. Leave me alone or I’ll call the cops.

I am a cop. Invite me up.

What?
Oh, my, was he that close? Her body trembled violently.

Balcony.

Hurrying to her bedroom, moaning and gasping as her swollen vagina clutched and caressed those damn balls driving her crazy, Katy shrugged her robe on over her naked body. Throwing open the French doors to the balcony off her bedroom, she looked down. A tree-lined, private alleyway ran behind her building, separating it from the mansion perched on the slope of the next street. She stepped out, halting as the cool evening fog touched her face. As she leaned over the balustrade, she caught the slightest movement of a tall, shadowed figure standing just beyond the fog and an alley light. As he moved boldly into the filtered moonlight, her phone chirped in her hand.

Take off your robe.

er pussy clasped the balls tightly, causing her to gasp. In her mind she could see herself slipping off the robe, and standing tall and proud beneath the moonlight. In reality, she was too wary. Not of him, but of the possibility someone else might see.

Her gaze caught Simon’s. He smiled slowly and without looking at his phone he called her.

“Hullo,” she said, huskily.

“Tell me a secret so dirty it turns you on just to think about it,” he commanded.

Her pussy clenched the balls. “Public,” she admitted, breathlessly, not believing she was saying this to him. “Sex in a public place.”

“Oh,” he crooned, “you are a dirty girl, Dr. Winslow. I love it.”

“I can’t believe I just admitted that to you.”

“I’m glad you did. So let’s take the first step toward making your dirty little secret not so secret.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just you and me out here. Take off your robe. I want to see you.”

“I can’t.” She blushed, wanting to do nothing more than stand naked before him.

He moved up the sloping hill of the neighboring property. He was on higher ground now—and closer. “I swear to God if you don’t do what I say, I’ll climb this damn tree and go Tarzan on you.”

Katy laughed. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

“I’ll do it for free.” He moved even higher up the slope, never once taking his eyes off her. “You have a beautiful body, Katrina. I remember every inch. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice was low and husky and sincere. “Show me how beautiful you are, Cinderella. Take off your robe just for me.”

Katy swallowed hard, looking nervously up and down the secluded alley. She had nothing to lose, and even if she had, the excitement of standing naked in front of Simon here on her balcony, as the fog swirled around her, was such a turn-on, she cast caution to the wind. Slowly she untied the belt, and smiled slyly when she heard Simon’s soft intake of breath. Shrugging out of one sleeve, she allowed the silky smooth material to slide down her arm. Closing her eyes she tilted her head back, reveling in the sensual feel of the silk as it slid down her smooth warm skin. Her heavy breasts and her hard nipples ached for his touch.

“You are beautiful,” Simon whispered in her ear.

Switching the phone to the other hand, she shrugged out of the other sleeve. As the cool mist of the fog swirled around her, she stood naked and proud before him, grateful for and cursing the fact that four stories and a cement balustrade separated them.

“Open your eyes, Kat,” Simon roughly commanded.

For one breathless moment, Katy stood statue still before her eyelids fluttered open. Her heart slammed against her chest. He had hopped the stucco retaining wall along the alley.

“I have never wanted to touch a woman as badly as I want to touch you at this very moment,” he confessed.

“I—want you to touch me …”

“Let me in, Kat.”

“I can’t,” she moaned in frustration.

“You won’t.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not too long.”

“Why? Do you have a hot date?”

“Always.”

That one word sliced through her. “Of course you do,” she said, her tone clipped.

“Aw, come on, Cinderella, I’m kidding. Don’t be that way.”

Her chest expanded as she tried to inhale as much oxygen as she could. Her knees shook, and her stomach fluttered. Adrenaline spiked. It was a crazy combination of physical overstimulation and emotional turmoil. She felt faint, exposed, vulnerable. And stupid for letting her guard down. Again. “I can’t, Simon,” she breathed. “I’m sorry.” She backed into her room, stumbling over her robe, falling flat on her back. She lay there for several long moments before a tormented sob tore from her lips.

God, she wanted to trust Simon. Trust him not to hurt her. Trust him to maybe want more from her than sex. “Argh!” she cried. “Why does it have to be so complicated?!” And realized her phone was still on. She turned it off.

She stood up and shrugged her robe back on. Tossing her phone onto her bed, she refused to look at it. She needed a cooling-off period. And, ugh, she needed to get the damn balls out of her. They were driving her crazy. No more sex. No more thoughts of sex! No more Simon!

Yeah, right.

As she went into the bathroom and tried to figure out how to get the damn gold balls out, the downstairs doorbell buzzed. Immediately, she thought Simon was there, trying to get back up to her apartment.

He was wearing her down despite her continued attempts to shut him out. She hurried to the foyer and pressed the intercom: “Go away, Simon.”

“Pizza guy,” a male teenage voice said.

Her stomach screamed for food. “Oh, sorry.” She buzzed him up.

The balls would have to wait. Grabbing a wad of bills from her wallet, Katy impatiently waited for her pizza to arrive. She yanked open the door the instant it chimed.

“Oh thank—” She gasped as her body liquefied. There stood her green-eyed stud with a large pizza in his hand, a shit-eating grin on his face, and—her eyes dropped to his tented trousers—an admirable erection.

“I’m hungry,” he growled, “and if I don’t eat soon, I’m liable to do something we might both might regret.”

“I’m sure your ‘hot date’ will be more than happy to feed you!” she shot back. She sounded like a jealous girlfriend. And she was. Supremely so. The jealous part anyway.

“
You
are my hot date, Katrina,” he bit off.

“But I told you I was busy.”

“Are you trying to blow me off?”

“Are you stalking me?”

“Maybe.” He made no apologies for it. He raised the pizza in his hands. It smelled almost as good as he did.

“That’s my pizza,” she said reaching out for it.

He pulled it back, causing her to step forward and the belt of her robe to slide undone. Simon hissed in a breath. It took every vestige of willpower she possessed not to quickly retie the belt. Instead she smiled seductively and clasped the golden balls stroking her G spot. The smooth fabric of the robe outlined her breasts and the edges hung fervently onto the tips of her hard nipples.

“I paid for it,” Simon said, huskily, keeping his hot gaze trained on hers.

“But I ordered it.”

He smiled slowly, once again in complete control of himself, and her body ached for him. “If you let me in, I’ll share it with you.”

“Simon—I don’t think—”

“I promise. I
swear,
I will not touch you,
even
if you throw yourself at me and demand I make mad passionate love to you.”

Well, that certainly surprised her. Katy smiled. How could she not? This man brought out a deep private part of her she never knew existed.

She backed into her apartment while holding the door open for him. “I’ll call the cops if you misbehave.”

He grinned and said, “I have no doubt.”

Katy tied her robe securely as she headed for the kitchen but said over her shoulder, “Keep going straight into the living room and just put the box down on the coffee table.”

Nervously, she considered another glass of wine. But her, plus wine, plus Simon, equaled trouble. One glass was already too much with him in the room. She grabbed a bottle of cold Pellegrino from the fridge and a beer from the stash she kept on hand for Elliot whenever he was over fixing something. Figuring Simon wouldn’t want a glass, she slid two plates from the cabinets, tucked a handful of napkins under her chin, and reached for the red pepper flakes she had taken out earlier in anticipation of her pizza.

“Christ, woman, what did you order? The kitchen sink?” he called from the living room.

Katy smiled as she sauntered carefully into the living room, making sure not to give the golden balls too much leeway to trigger a spontaneous orgasm. Just as she readjusted her gait, the balls slid over just the right place and she couldn’t stifle a soft moan. Simon looked up. His eyebrows shot up, then lowered as a knowing smile curved his full lips. Oh what she wouldn’t give to be able to kiss him right now with the assurance nothing bad would happen as a result.

“I see you like the little gift I left for you.”

Carefully, she sat down on the edge of the sofa so as not to move the balls any more than necessary. She handed him his beer just as he reached out to help her with her burden.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, looking down at the pizza that indeed looked as if the entire contents of a refrigerator had been dumped on it.

Simon took her bottle of water and glass, and set it down next to his beer.

When he took a swig, he grimaced.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Elliot likes his Guinness ice cold.”

Setting the bottle down, he cocked a brow. “Elliot?”

“Elliot, my—” It occurred to Katy as she watched Simon’s dark brows crowd together that maybe he was … jealous?

“Your … what?” he asked.

“My … fix-it guy.”

“What does Elliot fix?”

“Oh, this and that.”

Simon picked up his beer and took a long draught, then pointed the mouth of the long neck at her breasts. “Doe he fix those?” He proceeded to point the bottle south to her lap. “Or that?”

She straightened and gasped as her hips rocked against the balls.

Simon grinned like the devil and took another long pull from the bottle, draining it. “I’ll be happy to fix that for you, Doc.”

“I’m not broken, sir.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. If you’d like another beer, help yourself, they’re in the fridge.”

“I think I will.”

She watched him covertly from beneath lowered lashes. She loved watching him move. Long, powerful strides that he never hurried unless he was in pursuit. Of her.

When he sauntered back into the room he smiled that knowing smile again. “You have a nice place here, Doc.”

“Thank you.”

As he sat down across from her, she nodded toward the loaded pizza. “I was hungry.”

“I gathered that.”

He pulled a large piece from the box, slid it onto a plate and handed it to her along with a napkin. “Thank you,” she mumbled while sitting perfectly still, afraid if she didn’t, the balls would roll inside her again.

Simon smiled as he took a bite of the scrumptious smelling pizza. “Mmm, good pizza,” he said.

Pizza was a weakness of hers and she liked knowing it was one of his, too. It was an indulgence she didn’t feel so guilty about because she ran. A lot.

He nodded toward the paused television screen.
“9 ½ Weeks?”

Katy shrugged and chewed her pizza.

Simon devoured his slice and slid another one on his plate. “Your still waters run deep, Dr. Winslow.”

Daintily sipping her drink, Katy shook her head and said, “I don’t want to talk about sex.”

“Then let’s talk about why you keep running away from me.”

“I’m not!” But she was.

He nodded and raised his bottle in a silent toast to her. “Maybe you’re running away from yourself.”

He let that hang in the air for a minute. His insight into her psyche irritated her. “I didn’t realize you had a psychology degree.”

“I have a people degree, Kat. And my Spidey senses are telling me you’re afraid of what it is you really want because you have some crazy notion that it’s wrong or twisted and that if you act on it, it will come back and bite you in that pretty little ass of yours.”

She choked on the piece of pizza she was chewing. He reached over to pat her on the back, but she stuck her arm out, waving him off. She swallowed the bite and washed it down with a drink of her water. Dabbing at her lips, she set her napkin down and looked pointedly at him.

Because it always has,
she admitted only to herself. “That’s not true.”

“All of the evidence points to my conclusion.”

“You have no evidence.”

Tossing her a dubious glance, he grabbed his beer, and settled back against the sofa cushions. “Where are the Ben Wa balls?

She swallowed. “In the box.”

He grinned. “Your hot box?”

“No!”

“Liar. That is evidence in and of itself. You can’t admit to your own sexual curiosity or your willingness to explore.” He smiled softly. “Out on the balcony, I had to draw you out of your shell. My dirty secret question shocked you into a spontaneous answer, but then I still had to draw you out. When you dropped your robe, Kat, I about came in my pants.” He leaned toward her. “So did you. Even from a distance I saw how it made you feel. Sexy. Wanton.” His eyes blazed. “Powerful.”