Scandalous Mistress. Leslie Kelly

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      “You almost got clobbered,” he said.

      She did not reply; in fact, she didn’t even look at him. She was too busy staring at the items that had spilled out of the box. Lindsey stood as still as a statue, her already pale face losing its last little bit of color. “Oh, my God.”

      He followed her stare, wondering what had her so frazzled. At first, he just saw random books and some hard-plastic-wrapped, oddly shaped packages that didn’t quite register. Then he stepped closer and bent down.

      The title of one of the books flashed across his consciousness: Giving Yourself Ultimate Pleasure. On the cover was a woman, her head thrown back, mouth open on a sensual moan, one hand covering her bare breasts, the other between her legs.

      Shocked, he froze in place. His heart leaped up into the vicinity of his throat. All the sexual energy and base attraction he’d felt for Lindsey since he’d spied her on that ferry gushed through him. And that was before he got a better look at some of those oddly shaped items and realized what they all had in common.

      When it sank in what he was seeing, Mike grabbed for the back of the nearest chair. Trying to stay steady on suddenly wobbly legs, he exclaimed, “Wild Boar Island’s new schoolteacher is a sex addict.”

      “I am not a sex addict,” Lindsey said, sounding torn between indignation and utter dismay.

      “Sorry,” Mike said, acknowledging as soon as the words had left his mouth that they should have stayed in his head.

      But, damn. The woman had packed like she meant business—sexy business for one—which was enough to make a man cry. Just from where he stood, he spied at least a dozen female-oriented sex toys, including a pink butterfly thing that the package claimed was to be “strapped on.” A small purple one, shaped like a tiny porpoise, appeared designed to clip onto a woman’s finger. There was a small, metal case for storing what might pass for marbles on a playground but were identified as Ben Wa balls instead.

      But wait, there’s more.

      He spied several slim vibrators in various colors and textures. And a black harness-looking thing that didn’t seem as if it was made for a single player, which just made his breath grow that much thicker in his lungs. He saw the box for another device called an “anal probe,” which to him sounded like an alien torture tool.

      Then his wide-eyed stare fell on the thick, long, extremely graphic-looking device that wasn’t quite as big as what he had in his pants but was pretty damned generous nonetheless. It was not plastic-wrapped. Nor was the one beside it—little dong’s giant brother. The thing was big enough to hold a lamp shade.

      Holy shit.

      He couldn’t move. Literally, could not lift a hand, or take a step or do anything except stare. Most of the sex aids were still in their packaging, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if she’d ever opened, used and then repackaged any of them. Or if, God help him, she’d used the ones that weren’t still packaged, like the huge dildo.

      He didn’t imagine any woman could take that massive conversation piece into herself...but the other one... Had she plunged it into her body? If he bent down and picked it up, would he be able to tell? Did it still hold a faint whiff of musky woman? And Christ, why did he so desperately want to do things to her with it?

      Wild, erotic images flooded his brain, saturating his imagination. More than just fucking her with that long ridge of rubber, he could close his eyes and picture Lindsey giving herself pleasure, just like the woman on the book. It took no effort at all to imagine her clipping that tiny, purple device onto her finger and sliding it between her thighs, letting the vibrating tip brush against her clit until her hips thrust in sheer need. Her other hand would be on her breast, stroking, squeezing, gently plucking at a perfect nipple as the intensity increased. When she came, she’d be dying for something thick and hard to fill her, and no rubber toy could possibly give her the heat she craved.

      But he could. Oh, hell, yes, he could.

      In fact, he could practically do it right now. Those mental images were causing stabbing sensations in his groin, and he thought he might burst his zipper.

      God help me.

      He shook his head, chasing all those pictures out of his mind. He knew they would creep back in later, when he was alone in his small house. It had, after all, been a while since he’d had sex. The last time had been with his upward-climbing ex, before he’d moved here. But, blue balls or not, he sure didn’t want to come across as some horny asshole taking advantage of an admittedly unusual situation.

      “Sorry, I seem to have dropped your lifetime supply of vibrators,” he finally said, wondering how on earth he could sound so calm when he was certain he hadn’t breathed for the past several seconds.

      She groaned. “I can explain.”

      “Not necessary. You obviously own stock in a sex toy company?”

      She dropped her face into her hands, shaking her head. “Please be gone before I open my eyes again,” she said, sounding beyond embarrassed, verging on humiliated.

      He cursed himself for being so flippant. She had to be mortified. He sure would have been if a stranger had gotten a look at his most intimate reading material and personal items. Not that he usually read what was between the pages of his subscription mags, the ones delivered in a discreet, brown wrapper. Plus, of course, he also didn’t subscribe to a pocket-pussy-of-the-month club, so there wouldn’t be anything equivalent to shock the average passerby

      When he combined the book with the toys, it was obvious this woman took that whole giving-yourself-pleasure thing to heart. Which just made him wonder what it might be like to take that chore from her pretty, soft hands.

      Swallowing hard, he said, “Look, don’t be embarrassed. It’s no big deal.” Trying to pretend he hadn’t been imagining her putting something thick and hard between her thighs, he scrambled for another explanation. “It’s, uh, not as if I believe you’re opening an X-rated shop on the island.” Frowning, he added, “You’re not, are you?”

      “Of course not. I don’t imagine there would be much call for that around here.”

      “You might be surprised,” he said, thinking of a few people who seriously needed to have something shoved up their ass. One of them was Ollie, his own officer, a subordinate who hadn’t yet learned the meaning of that word—subordinate. The guy was a buffoon, a good ole’ boy who never would have made it on the force in any mainland city. Apparently, he’d made it on this one only by virtue of being the former chief’s nephew.

      “Besides,” she said with a definite eye roll, “that wasn’t what I imagined you were thinking.”

      No. She probably imagined he was thinking about how she used all these wickedly sexual items on her own stunning, curvy body. Which, of course, he had been.

      He met her stare, silently admitting it. She held that stare, from sheer bravado or because she, too, had suddenly started envisioning all-too-sexy ideas about the interesting things two people could get up to with all those appliances.

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