by Tabke, Karin
Simon wanted to see her tonight? Like a date? She doubted it. He wanted to see her naked is what he wanted. And even though she was hot for him, her dander rose. Well, that was too damn bad for him because she was done being at a man’s beck and call!
I’m busy.
Katy smiled despite her anger. She was certifiably bipolar when it came to the green-eyed cop. It took everything she had not to text him back and say she was available after all. She had some pride, though, and instead of responding positively or negatively, she didn’t respond at all. Instead, she allowed her anger over her current lack of employment and the underlying reasons to simmer. When it began to boil, she got up from the bed and began to angrily pace her large bedroom.
“Who the hell do you think you are, Evan Scott? How dare you?” she railed. Yanking the lab coat off, she flung it to the floor. Evan was the root of both problems and it was at him she would vent her rage.
She kicked her shoes off, then pulled the teakwood chopsticks out of her hair and threw them across the room. “You’re not going to get away with any of this! Not by a long shot.”
She stripped, then pulled on a pair of spandex leggings, sports bra, and T-shirt. She’d run out the anger, and when she could no longer run, she was going to plot. She was a damn good plotter, too. She was not going to lie down, hand them the lube, and let them shaft her. She’d find a way to turn the tables and keep not only her job and her career, but see to it that women in her industry were taken more seriously as woman and scientists!
As she leaned over to tie her running shoes: Ping. Her body responded with its own ping. She was worse than a female dog in heat.
Are you playing hard to get?
Exhaling, Katy decided to tell him the truth. Part of it anyway. No. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have texted, I have some stuff going on that I need to work through.
Anything I can help with?
No. But thank you.
Did someone upset you?
And then some.
Whose ass do you want me to kick?
Katy choked back a sob. No one had ever asked her that before. No one cared enough to. At that moment she lost a chunk of her heart to Simon. Sniffling back the sudden onslaught of tears, she texted through watery eyes. That’s sweet of you to offer, but this is something I have to handle myself.
The offer stands.
TY.
Then she added xo because if he was there, she would hug him and kiss him for his thoughtfulness.
She finished tying her laces, grabbed her key card and water bottle, dragged herself out to the street, forced herself to stretch, and ran.
She ran through the Presidio, across the Golden Gate, and into Sausalito before she turned and headed back. For hours she pushed her body to the limit as she attempted to clear her mind, recreate events, and strategize her options. Her final conclusion? She was screwed. It was career suicide if she hung Evan out to dry by exposing his pictures, texts, e-mails or, God forbid, the details of their last night together. In her business, the good old boys ran the club and if word got out of her affair with Evan, it wouldn’t matter that he’d been the one cheating on his wife and lying to her. She’d be the laughingstock, no longer taken seriously, regardless of how brilliant her research proved to be.
How ironic that in her occupation, the theft would be the more forgivable crime. She couldn’t fight to clear her name on the theft without Evan parading their night of debauchery at the San Diego symposium before an entire courtroom! It wouldn’t matter in their good old boys world that the respected Dr. Evan Scott was the instigating and very willing participant of a ménage. What would matter was that she, a female scientist, had indulged in such a tawdry incident and would forever be branded Dr. Slut, and with that brand, her credibility would be shot. She’d never be taken seriously again.
It made her sick to her stomach that she might have to give up everything she had worked so hard for because of a spiteful man she had trusted.
Having walked out her run, Katy slowly made her way back to her apartment. A normal person would have been solely focused on fighting the corporation, and the men who spearheaded it, that wanted to shut her down, but Katy was not normal; maybe that was part of her problem. Because as much as she was furious over what happened this morning, and the potential loss of everything she had worked for, it was another man that occupied her head space, and he gave her cause to sigh, which in and of itself presented a whole ’nother set of woes. One guy had screwed her into a corner and the other one wanted to screw her every which way but loose.
As she set her empty water bottle down on the table, Katy remembered the black velvet box. Retrieving it from her briefcase, she walked down the hall to Rosie’s place and knocked on the door. A minute later, a sweaty, heavy-breathing Rosie answered the door.
“Katy, come in, I’m almost done with my Tae Bo.”
Shaking her head, Katy followed Rosie into the retro apartment. It was like walking onto a Laugh-In set.
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 go
od 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 kn
ees 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.