by Jill Shalvis
Cassie had to laugh at Kate's calm annoyance. "Stop it. I have an ulterior motive."
"If you want a new toy, all you have to do is ask. We just stocked up."
"Hey, I still have Mr. Pink that you bought me for Christmas and I just loaded up on batteries, thank you very much."
Miss Priss leapt back onto the bed, and with one long daring glare, she settled at Cassie's head.
"If I wake up with a fur ball lodged in my throat, you're dead meat," Cassie told the snooty cat. "And you," she said to her cousin, "will you listen to me for a moment?"
"You got one minute. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven … you'd better hurry."
"Should have been a comic, Kate. Listen, I want you to have the building because it feels right. I don't know what to do with it, and it's just sitting there going to waste. Besides, it's right downtown. Right smack in the middle of downtown … are you following me here?"
"Let me see if I am … you see Bare Essentials, basically a very naughty ladies' store—"
"One which sells a most excellent dildo, I might add."
"Thank you. You see Bare Essentials fitting right in with the Rose Café and the five-and-dime."
"Why not? This town could use some spice."
"More than having their wild child come home?"
"Hey, they made me this way. Come on, say yes. It's on our lists of things to do…"
"Cassie." Kate laughed. "Those lists were written by bitter teenagers."
"So?"
"So … it's not that easy. I was just there, I don't want to move back to that place any more than you want to be there."
Cassie flopped back on the bed and stared at herself in the ceiling mirror. Her agent had cleared her schedule for the entire summer and it was only early June. The police and her friends had convinced her that a low profile would be best.
She knew that to be true. No matter her outwardly brave facade and joking, cynical manner, she hated the fear, the terror. Because of it, she sat in Pleasantville with no one but a mean old cat for company and nothing to do but pay her moving violations.
Oh, and stare at the sheriff's ass. It was a mighty fine ass, but that simply wasn't enough. Especially since he wasn't so much as slightly interested in her.
How long had it been since a man hadn't fallen in a pool of saliva at her feet? Didn't matter; unlike her mother, she had no need for a man to fall all over her.
"Cassie?"
"I'll get the shop going for you," she said rashly. "Come on, Kate. Opening a porn shop in Pleasantville. It doesn't get better than that."
"Bare Essentials, which is doing exceptionally well by the way, is not a porn shop." Kate sniffed.
"I know that. But everyone here will think it is." Glee leapt wildly within her. This idea just got better and better the more she thought about it. "This is inspired, truly inspired. I can keep myself from going crazy and—"
"Oh, honey. You are going crazy, I knew it. Maybe I should come back—"
"—and I can shock this mean-spirited old town while doing it. Mrs. McIntyre. Mrs. Wilkens. All of them. No, don't you dare come back. Unless of course, you want to. I can do this. I want to do this."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I can't just sit here and hide, Kate. I just can't. Otherwise every shadow, every little thing, makes me jump."
"Have you informed the sheriff about why you're really there?"
"Of course not. I'm fine. I just need to do something and this is perfect. What do you say?"
"You can't just give me the building. If we do this, it's as a team. And, damn, revenge on that godforsaken town sounds really good. Too good."
Cassie knew she had her. And if she did so in part because Kate was worried about her, then she was willing to play that card, because though she'd eat a stick before admitting it, she was worried about herself, too. "So then…?"
"Yes," Kate said. "Yes, let's do it. Partners?"
"Partners," Cassie vowed.
* * *
One week—and another ticket—later, Cassie was still jerking awake at night, certain her stalker had found her. Just last night she'd opened her mouth to scream at the weight holding her down, only to find Miss Priss sitting on her chest. The cat she could handle.
She had also handled the town—by snubbing her nose every morning at her fellow shop owners on Magnolia Street
. Specifically, anyone and everyone going in and out of the Tea Room right next door, most of the waitresses at the Rose Café, and anyone else who stopped to point and whisper.
This didn't include the Downtown Deli across the street, mostly because the deli was new, and therefore the legend of Cassie Tremaine didn't live there. And also because Cassie had discovered a weakness for pastrami on rye, along with the thirtysomething owners Diane and Will. Silly Diane and Will, they actually seemed to like her.
Cassie's building had been cleared of old debris and cleaned. They still had to paint, refloor and decorate, but that was the fun part. Since she was the one in town at the moment, she would handle most of that, happily. She loved to decorate and organize, and loved to paint. Which was a good thing, as Kate was notoriously bad at it, and was never offered a paintbrush.
She and Kate had spent hours teleconferencing over the stock for the store, with Kate sending naughty sample after naughty sample. The UPS girl, a very cute little thing named Daisy—only in Pleasantville—had continuously asked what was in all the boxes she kept delivering. When Cassie had finally broken down and told her—Daisy was simply too sweet for both this town and its gossip mill—Daisy had nearly swallowed her tongue.
In spite of it all, or maybe because of it, Cassie felt like a little girl at Christmas. One night, during a wicked early summer storm, she sat in the deserted building, surrounded by boxes and Miss Priss.
The cat hadn't relented—she still hated Cassie—but she refused to be left home alone. If Cassie did leave her at the house, she paid for the mistake dearly as Miss Priss wasn't above leaving "deposits" to show her annoyance. Yesterday it had been in her slipper, which Cassie had unfortunately put her foot into, so she'd caved like a cheap suitcase and took the damn cat wherever she went.
Rain beat against the windows of the building, while thunder and lightning beat the sky. She'd lost power about thirty minutes ago, but undeterred, she'd lit a lantern. In her mind's eye, she could see the store, envision the displays, the music, the lights—everything laid out the way she and Kate had planned—and the work was so therapeutic, she didn't want to stop. Unafraid—a nice change—she sat alone on the floor making copious notes to share with Kate during their next phone call.
Bare Essentials. Even the name was perfect, and she jotted a note to talk to Kate about what type of sign they should have made to hang out front. Everyone in town would assume the worst, of course, and to make sure she fulfilled those thoughts, the shop would carry a variety of items for shock value alone. Maybe they could create an interesting window display with cock rings and anal plugs…
Time flew by as she opened boxes, spread the samples out this way and that, made notes, even tried some things on.
Miss Priss had long ago fallen asleep in a box. Outside, beyond the shuttered windows, traffic had dribbled to nothing.
Cassie, wearing a simple, basic black camisole—the design was so exquisite, she absolutely loved it—was sitting on the floor with the last box. She pulled it close and opened it. Inside she found a note from Kate. "Think the lovely patrons of Pleasantville will like these?"
Cassie grinned as she laid out a selection of body jewelry. She could see the looks now, especially when the Pea-vile matrons were confronted with nipple and cit rings.
Cassie herself had once had her belly button pierced, but it had gotten in the way of certain photo shoots so she'd let it grow in.
But a nipple ring … if she wasn't such a chicken when it came to pain she'd have the real thing. Since she never would, that left the clip-on variety. She opened up a package that held a pretty, deli
cate-looking silver hoop, slipped a spaghetti strap off one shoulder and bared a breast. With her fingers she plucked her nipple into a hard bead and applied the jewelry.
With a hiss, she let out a slow breath. It was a clamp of sort, but surprisingly, it didn't hurt at all. And looking down at herself, she had to smile. "What do you think, Miss Priss? Pretty hot, huh?"
"Does my vote count?"
With a scream, Cassie leapt up, instinctively reaching out for a weapon as she did. That she grabbed Big Red—her nickname for a twelve-inch long, three-inch thick, glow-in-the-dark red dildo—didn't matter. The sucker was heavy and she could wield it like a baseball bat no problem.
"Whoa, just me."
In the back of her mind she recognized that incredibly sexy voice.
Not her stalker.
Not a Joe Blow off the street.
But dangerous, none the less. And she was standing there in a camisole with her faux-pierced nipple hanging out. Keeping hold of Big Red with one hand, she used the other to cover her breast. "You."
"Me," the sheriff agreed, partially stepping out of the shadows into the meager light let off by the lantern so that she could see just his face. His sharp eyes scanned everything, including her, while his long, rangy body remained utterly still. "I thought this building was supposed to be empty and I saw the light. Had a few complaints."
"Let me guess. Mrs. McIntyre?"
"Among others."
"I'll bet. How did you get in?"
"You have a bum door. It's locked but not shut all the way."
"Look, the place is mine, no one in this bitter old town can say otherwise, so if you're thinking about giving me another ticket—"
"Another ticket." God, that voice of his. "Gotta tell you, Cassie, I wasn't thinking ticket when I first saw you." He shifted closer. "Have you done anything illegal lately?"
As he asked, his gaze ran leisurely over her, making her very aware of how she must look standing there holding a big, fat dildo and her own breast. "Uh…"
"Other than indecent exposure, that is?"
"Indecent?"
He cocked his head and looked her over good, his eyes eating her up. "Actually, that's a matter of opinion."
She could feel her other nipple tighten; she told herself she was cold. Which didn't explain why the silk between her legs suddenly felt as soft and incredible as a man's touch.
As he still stood in the shadows, she couldn't see what he wore, but she imagined him in his uniform, and it hardened her against him despite the fact that he looked good enough to eat.
But the expression in his eyes as he drank in her scrap of black wasn't a cop's look. It was a man's.
And something within her tingled. Lord, he was something, all rough-and-tumble ready. He'd make a nice diversion, wouldn't he? If he wasn't such a cop.
Go for it, honey, said Flo's voice in her head. Get what you can and get out.
Standing there, he was tall, dark and shockingly, overtly sexy. It wouldn't he hard to "go for it." But beneath that laid-back, easygoing facade, he was tough as nails, and she knew it.
She'd never been shy about her own sensuality, but unlike Flo, she refused to let it run her life. Flo couldn't resist a man.
And yet Flo had always brought men to their knees. Cassie liked that part. But something told her the big, bad Tag wouldn't be easy to control. Bottom line—if she couldn't be in charge, she never dallied.
Never.
Still, the summer loomed long and empty in front of her. If nothing else, surely she could get him to take care of her tickets…
Grab everything they'll give you, Flo would say right now. Grab it and walk away.
Tag's hot, hot gaze ran down her body, making her stomach quiver, making her forget the tickets. His gaze settled on Big Red. "Cassie, what were you going to do with that thing?"
Just his voice made her thighs clench. "Big Red? Did you know he glows in the dark?"
He lifted a brow. "What else does he do?"
He can drive you crazy, she thought, and let out a wicked smile.
* * *
Chapter 3
«^»
Oh, yeah, Tag thought. No doubt about it, Cassie Tremaine Montgomery had a smile capable of rendering a grown man stupid. The outfit didn't hurt, either.
Or lack of outfit.
Did she have any idea how she looked standing there in the glow of the lantern wearing … what the hell was that black thing anyway? It had wispy little straps that would be easy to nudge off with one fingertip, or a single touch of his tongue. One already hung off her arm. The bodice was sheer, except for the lace roses that strategically covered her nipples.
Or nipple, since the one was hidden from his view not by the lace flower but by Cassie's own fingers. The sheer black slid over her belly and ended very high on her hips, with just a scant little strip disappearing between her thighs, where he imagined it was held together with a few strategic snaps.
His teeth itched to see how quickly he could undo them.
Which was bad, very bad. Even worse, just seeing her fingers on her own bare breast was enough to turn his insides quivering. She was touching herself, had been touching herself when he'd walked in. She wore a nipple ring and was handling the biggest dildo he'd ever seen. If there was a man in the world strong enough to not be brought to his knees by that image, Tag wasn't him. "Cassie, what are you doing here, dressed like … that?"
"Haven't you heard?" She seemed utterly unconcerned by her near nudity. He had to admit, he'd never seen a more mouth-watering, luscious body in his life. Covering it should be a crime. And if he was to believe even one quarter of the stories he'd heard about her, she apparently didn't have a problem with uncovering it.
"We're putting a new store in this building," she said.
"We?"
"My cousin Kate and I. Bare Essentials. It's a bit of a secret what we're selling."
"Why?"
"It's going to be a … ladies' shop."
"Ah. You want to shock the good people of Pleasantville."
"Oh, yeah, we do. You caught me playing with some of the merchandise." She hefted the dildo in her free hand. "Think the good ladies of Pleasantville will admit to needing one of these bad boys?" She ran the tip—the very large, red, bulbous tip—across her collarbone.
His heart nearly stopped.
Down her stomach.
Riveted, he stood there practically panting.
"Hmm." She pursed her glossed lips. "That reminds me." The dildo dipped below her belly button. "We'd better sell batteries, too, don't you think? I'd hate to force some shy thing into the hardware store with this bad boy."
It wasn't often Tag found himself speechless. Or with an uncontrollable erection while on duty. "Your strap. It's…" He held her gaze as she stepped closer. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to slip a finger beneath her fallen strap, slowly bringing it back up. The material dragged over the breast she was covering with her hand making her other nipple tighten all the more. Her breath caught at that, he heard it, and it caused his own to do the same. Beneath his fingers he felt her warm, soft skin. Almost unaware, he'd dipped his head to hers. He didn't have far to bend. She was a tall woman, which he'd just discovered was an incredible turn-on. Lying down, they'd be chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and everything in between would line up so damn perfectly…
She tilted her head slightly, too, and his jaw brushed her long hair. A silky strand clung to the slight stubble on his cheek, and he stilled to keep it there.
She moved again, lifting her head so that they were mouth to mouth, breathing each other's air, which turned out to be the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.
She licked her lips, and they were so close he felt the brush of her tongue against his lips. "Mmm," she whispered. "It's a night for this, don't you think? A night for a memorable kiss."
With a groan, he parted his lips and slid them to hers. Hot. Wet. Heaven. She opened for him and as his tongue lightly caressed, she gav
e in with a hungry sound that sent his every rational thought skittering out the door. Because it was quiet and relatively dark, and because he couldn't think with her so close to him, he gave in to the hunger. Her lips parted farther and the kiss deepened into an explosive, frantic, lush mating of mouths and tongues. And for one glorious moment they connected—lost, wild, clinging—until she shifted a fraction to stare at him with eyes satisfyingly full of hunger and passion.
He still had his fingers entwined in her camisole. Beneath them her skin felt like silk. Hot silk. The taste of her was still on his tongue—forbidden passion and the promise of head-banging, toe-curling sex. No doubt, he had to get her covered before this got out of control, but the material of her lingerie stuck to the hand she held over her breast.
Slowly, still holding his gaze prisoner in her own, she pulled her hand free, giving him a devastatingly thorough glimpse of that silver hoop on her puckered nipple. Utterly unable to help himself, he lifted his hand and ran the pad of a finger over the mouthwatering tip. The hoop danced, her breast quivered. And every bit of saliva in his mouth dried up. In that moment he knew he was out of control, that at the slightest invitation from Cassie, they would be naked and rolling on the floor.
Then she let the material cover her breast, and he managed to take a breath.
"Thanks," she whispered.
He would have whispered something back but he was still facing that whole speechless problem. Both nipples were hard, clearly defined. The one he'd just covered now had the clear outline of a circle around it, and picturing her placing that ring on herself all over again, he groaned.
"It's not real," she said softly. "It's just a clip-on. I was just—"
"Trying on the merchandise. I know."
"I have more. We have one for a guy." She ran a finger down his chest, past his belly to the top button of his pants, which she toyed with, making his already straining erection painful. "Want to try it on? I can do it for you. You put it—"
"Cassie."
She actually smiled. "Chicken?"
"No." He let out a careful breath and caught her wandering fingers in his. "But I am on the very edge. Tease me another second and I'll prove it to you."
