Naturally naughty Read online

  “You can’t just go around kissing strangers,” Kate said

  Jack held out his hands. “You said you weren’t married.”

  “What if I were engaged? Or a nun? Or what if I didn’t like men?”

  “Engaged isn’t married, so I’d say tough luck to the guy.” Grinning, he continued. “You as a nun would be a crime against nature, definitely worth ignoring.” He glanced down at her, his stare taking in her hardened nipples and her trembling legs. The musky scent of aroused woman teased his nostrils. “And not liking men isn’t in the realm of possibility,” Jack finally said smoothly. “You want me pretty badly.”

  Her jaw dropped and he tipped it back up with the tip of his finger. “Now, for introductions. I’m Jack. It’s very nice to meet you. And you are…?”

  She ignored his question. “You followed me.”

  He didn’t try to deny it. “Guilty as charged.”

  That stopped her. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Fate? Instinct?” Then he lowered his voice, whispering into her ear as he leaned in closer, aligning his body with hers. “Or maybe so I could see what color eyes my children are going to have.”

  Dear Reader,

  When the new Blaze line launched last year, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Anyone who’s read the stories I write for Temptation know I have no problem turning up the heat. But whenever I sat down to work up a story, I had trouble coming up with the right premise. My critique partner, Jill Shalvis, was having the same problem. But with the encouragement of our wonderful editors at Harlequin, we put our heads together and came up with the outrageous stories of two cousins who want to wreak a little havoc by opening a sex shop in their old hometown. Throw in a little sexual revenge, and the BARE ESSENTIALS miniseries was born.

  I loved working on this project with Jill. It challenged me as a writer to work with another author’s characters and story line. I’d also like to say a special thank-you to Harlequin for allowing us to be a part of this trend of simultaneously released books in a miniseries. So look for Jill’s book, Naughty But Nice, out right now.

  I love to hear from my readers. Please write to me at P.O. Box 410787, Melborne, FL 32941–0787, or drop me an e-mail through my Web site www.lesliekelly.com. And don’t forget to check out tryblaze.com.

  Happy (and hot!) reading,

  Leslie Kelly

  Books by Leslie Kelly

  HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

  747—NIGHT WHISPERS

  810—SUITE SEDUCTION

  841—RELENTLESS

  872—INTO THE FIRE

  882—TWO TO TANGLE

  NATURALLY NAUGHTY

  Leslie Kelly

  To Jill Shalvis—

  a great critique partner, an even greater friend.

  Thanks for always being there.

  And, as always, to Bruce.

  Thanks for the Christmas gifts/tax write-offs.

  Research has never been more fun.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Ten Years Ago

  HOLDING HER PINK taffeta dress up to her knees, Kate Jones trudged toward home wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. Live burial seemed better than spending one more night in Pleasantville, Ohio. Her cousin’s favorite expression came to mind—This town’s about as pleasant as a yeast infection.

  Without a doubt, this evening would have a place on Kate’s list of all-time worst experiences. No, it wasn’t nearly as bad as when her dad had died, or when her mom had brought her here to live, a town where their family was treated like dirt. In terms of teenage experiences, however, tonight was bad. Kate had been resoundingly dumped. On prom night no less.

  You should have stayed, a voice whispered in her brain.

  Kate snorted. “Stayed? After being jilted by Darren for Angela Winfield, wickedest witch on earth? Right!”

  Cassie wouldn’t have run away. No, her cousin would have popped Angela one, kicked Darren where it counted, and told them to stick it where the sun didn’t shine. Too bad she’d left early.

  She passed another dark house. Its inhabitants were probably cozy in their beds, reflecting on their pleasant days. They wouldn’t think twice about her trudging in the street. Who’d expect anything else from a trashy Tremaine? Her last name might be Jones, but no one let her forget her mother’s maiden name. In spite of being a straight-A student who’d never gotten into any real trouble, people here believed Kate must have hit every no-good branch on her way down the Tremaine family tree.

  Turning off Petunia onto Pansy Lane, Kate grimaced for the half-millionth time at the dumb street names. I’d love a giant bottle of Weed-B-Gone. She could think of a creeping pest she’d like to zap. Darren.

  “Darren’s a conceited jerk.” Kate knew she shouldn’t have gone with him, especially since his mother hated her. But just for one night she’d wanted to be part of the in crowd. She’d wanted to be cool and popular, instead of the nice, quiet girl who tried to disguise her family’s poverty by getting good grades and working harder than anyone ever expected.

  Tonight at the prom Angela had pawed all over Darren, urging him to ditch Kate and leave with her instead. The whole school knew Angela put out. And despite being a trashy Tremaine, Kate did not. Hmm, such a tough choice for Darren—Angela the tramp from the most respected family in town? Or Kate the pure, from the trashiest one? What was a horny eighteen-year-old boy to do?

  He’d left so fast Kate’s head had spun.

  Kate was nearly home when the rain started. “What did I do to deserve this?” she said as drops hit her face. She was long past the point of caring about her panty hose. Nor did she worry about her makeup smearing—her tears had accomplished that.

  The rain was just one more insult in a rotten night.

  Spying her family’s duplex, she prayed her mother was asleep, and Cassie home in the adjoining unit where she and Aunt Flo lived. If Cassie was home, Kate would knock on her bedroom wall, which butted right against Cassie’s in the next unit. They’d communicated by knocking on it since they were little girls. She’d signal her to sneak out back for one of their late-night gab sessions and fill her in about her lousy prom night.

  Then she noticed a parked car out front. When her mother emerged from it, Kate wondered who Edie could have been out with so late. As a man exited she said, “Mayor Winfield?”

  Yes, Angela’s father. Rich, jolly John Winfield who kept her mother busy cleaning his fancy house on Lilac Hill. Once again the mayor thought nothing of working Edie late in the night, as if she didn’t already spend forty hours a week scrubbing other people’s toilets. Kate raised a brow as the mayor played gentleman and walked her mother to the door.

  Walk away, her inner voice said. But she couldn’t. Moving closer, she’d reached the steps when they began to kiss.

  Kate moaned. Her gentle mother was having an affair with the very married mayor? John Winfield was the patriarch of the town, a family man, father of Angela and of town golden boy, J.J., who’d gone away to college years ago and hadn’t returned.

  After their kiss Winfield said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve made life bearable for me all these years.”

  Years? Mr. Mayor, the pure saintly leader of Pleasantville, has been having an affair with his cleaning woman for years?

  “Here,” Winfield co
ntinued, reaching into his pocket. “Your paycheck. I’m sorry it’s so late, sugar, you know how she is.”

  A sweet smile softened her mother’s face. “I’m okay, John. If she’s overspent again and you’re in need, I can wait a bit.”

  Kate shook her head in shock. The phone bill hadn’t been paid. They’d had canned soup and tuna sandwiches for dinner all week. And her mother was giving back her paycheck to the richest man in town? Worse…the son of a bitch took it.

  Blinking away tears as she acknowledged her respectable, much-loved mother was the willing mistress of a married man, she darted around back. Kate instinctively headed toward the ramshackle tree house where she and Cassie had played as kids, seeking comfort like a child would seek her mother’s arms. Kate whimpered as she realized she no longer had that option. Her mother wasn’t the person she’d always thought she was.

  Looking up as she approached, she saw a glow of light from within and the burning red tip of a cigarette.

  Cassie. Kate paused. She simply could not tell her cousin what she’d witnessed in front of the house. Cassie and Kate had long ago accepted the truth about their mothers. Cassie’s mom, Flo, was the wild charmer who’d let them have makeup parties at age seven, and bought them their first six-pack. They loved her, no matter what the town thought of her outrageous clothes and numerous affairs. But Edie had been the real nurturing mother figure, the kind one who’d dried their tears and encouraged their dreams.

  For Kate, Edie would never be the same. How could she destroy Cassie’s image of Edie, too? In spite of her outward toughness, Kate knew Cassie would be very hurt by this. As hurt as Kate had been. So no, she couldn’t tell her. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  “Kitty Kate, you down there?”

  Wiping away her tears, she climbed the rope ladder. Inside the tree house, Cassie’s golden hair was haloed by candlelight. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” Cassie took another long drag of her cigarette.

  “Got another one?” Kate sat next to her cousin, noting the way their dresses filled up nearly every inch of floor space in the tiny house. Hers a boring pink. Cassie’s a sultry black that screamed seduction and showcased her curvy figure.

  “Last time you smoked you ralphed all over the bathroom.”

  Feeling sick enough already, Kate didn’t risk smoking. “You okay? You skipped out on prom pretty early.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure the gold-plated set missed me real bad.”

  Kate ignored the sarcasm. “I missed you. What happened?”

  Cassie gave a bitter laugh. “Biff said we were going to a party. Turns out he had a two-person, naked party in mind.”

  “Perv.”

  “Total perv. Then he gets pulled over for drunk driving.”

  “You were drinking?” Kate raised a surprised brow, knowing Cassie thought alcohol made guys stupid and mean.

  “No. He wanted to get beer, so we stopped at the store before the prom. He said I should buy it since I look older. Friggin’ moron. Like the clerk wouldn’t notice I was wearing a prom dress.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “I pretended I couldn’t. He found somebody else at the prom who gave him some.” Cassie squashed out her cigarette and leaned her head against the wall. “Look, Katey, I don’t want to talk about this. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you and Darling Darren be celebrating as king and queen of Pea-Ville High right now?”

  Kate told her everything, leaving out what had happened when she got home. “Guess we both had disastrous prom nights.”

  Cassie took Kate’s hand. “Did I say Darling Darren? I meant Dickless Darren. I hope you told him to eat shit and die.”

  “I told him he deserved a girl like Angela, and took off.” Frankly, she liked Cassie’s comeback better. If she’d thought about it long enough, maybe she could have come up with it. But Kate was so used to being the sweeter of the Tremaine cousins, she generally refrained from mouthing off out loud, as she often did in her brain, or when alone with Cassie.

  “Good for you.”

  Cassie opened an old, dusty Arturo Fuente cigar box in which they hid the stashes of stuff they didn’t want the moms to find. It held candles, diaries, even a Playgirl they’d dug out of Flo’s trash can a few years ago. “I hate this stinking town.”

  Remembering the way she’d felt as she watched Mayor Winfield and her mother, Kate completely understood. “Ditto.”

  “I’d give anything to get outta here. Make it big, make lots of money, then come back and tell them all to stuff it.”

  Kate had the same fantasy. Hours spent in the old Rialto Theater had introduced her to places she wanted to go, people she wanted to meet. Women she wanted to become. Far away from here. “Wouldn’t that be something? The trashy Tremaine cousins coming back and stirring up some serious trouble,” Kate said. “You know what I’d do? I’d open up a shop right next door to Mrs. McIntyre’s Tea Room. And I’d sell…dirty movies!”

  Cassie snickered. “Go all out, triple-X porn, baby.”

  “And sex toys. Darren’s mom could really use a vibrator.”

  “You wouldn’t know a vibrator if it fell in your lap. Turned on. So, first stop in the big city, we buy sex toys.”

  Kate giggled. “And when we’re rich and famous, we come back here and shove ’em right up certain people’s noses.”

  Cassie reached into the box, grabbing Kate’s diary. “I’ve been sitting here listing all the things I’d do to get even with some people in this town. Why don’t you make one, too?”

  “A list?”

  “Yep. We each list the things we’ll someday do to the cruddy populace of Pleasantville, if we ever get the chance.”

  The idea made perfect sense to Kate. “Publicly humiliate Darren McIntyre and Angela Winfield,” she said as she wrote.

  As they wrote Kate watched Cassie’s smile fade as she thought of something else. Kate couldn’t stop her own thoughts from returning to her mother. John Winfield.

  She ached, deep within, at the loss of her own childhood beliefs.

  Tears blurred her vision as she secretly added one more item to her list. For Mom’s sake, get even with the Winfield family…particularly John Winfield. She didn’t know how, but someday she would do to that family what they’d done to hers…

  Cause some serious heartache.

  1

  Present Day

  AS SHE PULLED UP in front of the Rose Café on Magnolia Avenue, Kate Jones took a deep breath and looked around at the heart of Pleasantville. Heart. Probably the wrong word. The town hadn’t possessed that particular organ when she’d left ten years ago. Judging by what her mother had told her in their last phone call, she feared it hadn’t grown one in the intervening decade.

  The street appeared the same on the surface, though was perhaps dirtier, its buildings grayer than she remembered. Warped, mildew-speckled boards covered some of the windows of the once-thriving storefronts. Very few people strolled along the brick sidewalks. The cheerful, emerald paint on the benches lining the fountain in the town square had faded to a faint pea-green. A reluctant grin crossed her lips as she heard Cassie’s voice in her head. Welcome back to Pea-Ville.

  Hers wouldn’t be an extended stay. She had a job to do, then she’d drive away forever. Reaching for the door handle of her SUV, she paused when she heard her cell phone ring. “Yes?”

  “Kate, I’m going crazy. Tell me you’re on your way home.”

  “Armand, I’ve only been gone one day,” Kate said with a laugh, recognizing the voice of her high-strung, creative business partner. “Besides, you were crazy before you met me.”

  “Crazy and poor. Now I’m crazy and rich and I can’t take this kind of pressure. You are going to pay for leaving me in charge. Nothing that happens at Bare Essentials while you’re gone is my fault. Understood?”

  “Nothing’s going to go wrong in two or three days. Tell me what happened so we can fix it.”

  “The shipment didn’t arrive from California. We’re down to o
ne Bucky Beaver. And he was featured in the ad this weekend.”

  Oh, yes, the world would indeed stop revolving without their bestselling special toy. “I don’t think it’s a problem of catastrophic proportions. We sell lots of other products.”

  “None that were featured in the ad. I can see an entire girl’s college softball team coming in to stock up for an out-of-town game, and finding the shelves bare.” She heard Armand groan. “I see riots. Stampedes. Ten-inch rubber dildoes lobbed at my head until I am knocked unconscious. Imagine having to explain that to the handsome young police officer in his tight blue suit with his jaunty black cap when he comes in response to my frantic call.” He paused. “Hmm…maybe this isn’t such a crisis after all.”

  “Definitely not, but just call the supplier anyway.”

  “Maybe I should ask your cousin to use her connections…”

  “Cassie’s still in Europe. I think.” Kate wasn’t quite sure where her famous model cousin was working this week. She’d tried to track her down after getting her mother’s news and had left messages with Cassie’s agent and publicist. So far, no word. Cassie almost seemed to be in hiding. Another worry.

  “So how’s business today?” she asked.

  “As thriving as ever,” he replied. “Two different bridal parties came in this morning, hence the shortage of Buckys.”

  “I do love those wedding showers.”

  “Dewy brides and do-me bridesmaids. A delightful, money-spending combination.”