The Pleasure Principle

by Kimberly Raye

  But it couldn’t be just any woman. It had to be the woman that had haunted him so many nights when he’d been a naïve high school kid.

  Eden Hallsey.

  The name stirred a vision of her as she’d been tonight, staring up at him in the hallway, her lips plump and parted, desire gleaming in her eyes.

  She was all woman. Hot. Sexy. Temporary.

  His groin tightened and he shifted in the bed to make himself more comfortable. Yes, he was going to sleep with Eden Hallsey. And prove to himself, once and for all, that he was every bit a man.

  4

  “WAIT UNTIL YOU HEAR the hot news,” Kasey Montgomery announced as she waltzed into the stockroom at the Pink Cadillac for Sunday-morning inventory.

  Eden glanced at her watch. Make that Sunday-afternoon inventory. “You’re late.”

  “I think my Timex stopped.” She slapped her oversized tote down on the floor and sat down on a crate of Lonestar.

  “You don’t wear a Timex,” Eden pointed out. “Or any watch for that matter.”

  The blonde glanced at her bare wrist as if seeing it for the first time. “Wow. No wonder I’m late.” Kasey popped the tab on her Diet Coke and cast an excited gaze on Eden. “So there I was coming out of the TG&Y—they just got a special order of the Vampin’ Red lipstick I’ve been lusting over ever since I saw it in last month’s issue of Cosmo—and who do you think I saw?”

  “Laurie Mitchell with her very own tube of Vampin’ Red.” Laurie was the town’s reigning beauty queen and Kasey’s arch enemy since she’d taken her Miss Cadillac crown and her reputation as the local beauty authority. The comment drew the expected frown and Eden smiled. Since she couldn’t bring herself to dock Kasey’s pay for her notorious tardiness—she and Kasey had been friends since sixth grade when they’d shared a pack of Bubblicious gum during gym, followed by a stint in detention for getting caught—the least she could do was yank the girl’s chain every once in a while. “Can you pass me that jar of swizzle sticks?”

  “For your information, Laurie wouldn’t know her Vampin’ Red from her Seductive Scarlett if her poor, pathetic, bleached blond life depended on it.” Kasey handed over the container of multicolored sticks and her frown disappeared as excitement crept back into her expression. “I saw Anita Kingsbury,” she announced. “That’s who.”

  “Anita practically lives at the TG&Y. She does needlepoint and it’s the only store that stocks the thread. That’s not hot news.”

  “Of course it’s not. Anita was carrying the news. She’d just been to the Piggly Wiggly where she’d just run into Janie Tremaine who’d just been to Mabel’s for a permanent.”

  “Janie traded in her straight hair for a permanent?”

  “And a haircut, but that’s not the point. See, while Janie was having the extra small rollers done on her crown, she overheard Sarah Waltman who’d just come in for a bilevel trim with shagged bangs.”

  “Sarah’s going with shagged bangs?”

  “Wild, isn’t it? But that’s not the point either.”

  “Then what is the point?”

  “Guess who Sarah ran into before she arrived at Mabel’s?” Before Eden could answer, Kasey rushed on, “Him, that’s who.”

  “That tells me a lot. Do you know how many hims there are in this town?”

  “Approximately .75 for every female,” Kasey replied. “And you’re not listening. I didn’t say him. I said him.”

  “Now that clears up the mystery. Can you turn around and give me a pretzel count?”

  “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten.” Kasey reached for a jar of pretzels instead and popped the lid. “Fifth period,” she said around a mouthful. “Mrs. Jasmine’s sophomore English class.”

  Eden penciled in the pretzel figures. “You’re eating up all my profit.”

  “It’s just a handful.” She put the lid back on. “Just add them to my bill. So guess who’s back in town?”

  “Mrs. Jasmine.”

  “No, silly.” Kasey grabbed the clipboard and reached around Eden for a bag of popcorn. “It’s Brady Weston. You know Brady with-the-cutest-butt-at-Cadillac-High Weston? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the highlight of our pathetic sophomore lives?”

  If only.

  The trouble was, she remembered all too well. How cute he’d looked walking down the hall in his tight jeans and letterman’s jacket. How sexy he’d seemed every time his full lips had curled into a grin. How irresistible he’d been standing on the side of the road that unbearably hot summer day.

  Eden pushed the thought aside. Okay, so she was attracted to him. She was also a grown-up rather than a hormone-driven teenage girl. She’d perfected her control over the past ten years.

  “You do remember him?” Kasey persisted, opening the bag and dishing a handful of the butter-flavored snack into her mouth.

  “Vaguely.”

  “And Laurie and I are the best of buddies.”

  “Okay, so I remember him. That goes on your tab,” she told Kasey as the girl reached for another handful of popcorn.

  “Him and his butt.”

  “Remembering someone usually entails all parts of them.”

  “Man, that was an ultra-fine butt. Go on,” Kasey prodded. “I know you remember. Just admit it. Confession is good for the soul.”

  “Okay, so he has an ultra-fine butt.”

  “Has, as in present tense?” Kasey folded up the half-eaten bag of popcorn and studied her. “You’re holding out on me.”

  “Maybe I’ve seen his butt for myself.” When Kasey looked ready to burst with curiosity, Eden added, “Yesterday I picked him up on the road outside of town and gave him a lift.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “This is the first time I’ve seen you since yesterday.”

  “That’s worthy of a phone call. So?” she prodded after a long moment when Eden didn’t say anything. “So what?”

  “So what does he look like now?”

  “Would you believe a receding hairline and a pot belly?”

  “Brady Weston? Not on your life. C’mon and spill it.”

  “The same.” At Kasey’s doubtful look, she gave in to the smile playing at her lips. “Better.”

  “I knew it!” Excitement flashed in the girl’s eyes as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Does he still sound the same? All deep and sexy?”

  I know who you are. Brady’s words echoed in Eden’s ears and heat shimmered along her nerve endings. “Deeper and sexier.”

  Kasey let out a whoop. “I knew it. And his smell?” A dreamy look crept over her expression. “Does he still smell as good as he did back in English?”

  Eden’s nostrils flared at the memory of Brady sitting next to her and stirring her senses with his clean, musky scent. “Better.”

  “I knew it. It’s the age thing. Brady is like a classic ‘69 Mustang. Granted, way back when it was still a hot car. But now…it’s mega-hot. A classic. Maturity makes all the difference. The added years make Brady look better. Sound better. Even smell better.”

  “And here I thought my cologne was responsible for that last one.” The deep voice slid into Eden’s ears and shimmered over her nerve endings. The hair on her arms stood straight up and heat rushed to her cheeks as she turned to find Brady standing in the storage-room doorway.

  “My, my, if it isn’t Mr. Brady Weston.” Kasey slid off the crate and stood, tugging at her blouse as if she were fourteen again, back in Miss Jasmine’s class. “Why, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”

  “Much too long,” Brady agreed, but his gaze wasn’t on Kasey. His attention rested solely on Eden.

  She wanted to look away, to break the connection between them and regain her composure. The trouble was, she knew it was a useless effort. She’d never had it together where Brady was concerned. He was different. He’d always been different. From the moment he’d pushed all rumor aside and planted that soft, sweet kiss on her cheek after their first and last date.

  Brady wa
s the sort of man dreams were made of. The gallant white knight. And time seemed to have changed little.

  Unfortunately.

  “So how long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to be thankful that I don’t have a receding hairline and a pot belly.”

  “That long, huh?” She shook her head and tried to ignore the strange sense of self-consciousness he stirred.

  If only.

  “I guess you heard us carrying on about you, then,” Kasey said. “Man, you were something.”

  “Were, meaning past tense.” He grinned. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Oh, it’s not just the past. The present is pretty fine, as well.”

  “Kasey has no shame,” Eden said when Brady chuckled.

  “Shame’ll get you nowhere on a Friday night. A girl has to go after what she wants. Speaking of which,” she grabbed another bag of popcorn and headed for the doorway, “I need lunch.”

  “That makes ten bucks,” Eden told her as the girl scooted by.

  “You should be the one paying me,” Kasey whispered. “Most women would kill for a chance to be alone with such a cute hunk.”

  But Eden wasn’t most women and Brady Weston wasn’t just any hunk. He was the only hunk she’d ever really been attracted to. She’d gone out with guys and kissed more than her fair share, but none that she’d really wanted to kiss. She’d kissed and petted because it had been expected of her, but with Brady she’d felt the need clear to her bones.

  The winning ticket had been a godsend, or so she’d thought. One date. The chance to finally, finally satisfy her curiosity and kiss him. There’d been no doubt in her mind that it would happen. Brady was just a guy, after all, and all guys reacted to her—or rather, her reputation—in exactly the same way. They expected to score and wasted little time with preliminaries. She’d had no doubt that things would be the same with Brady, but the notion hadn’t upset her. She’d wanted him too badly and so she’d been ready. Excited. A first for Eden Hallsey where boys were concerned.

  She’d had another first that night, however. She’d learned that all men were not hormone-driven, egotistical low-lifes. There were a few white knights out there, namely, one handsome, luscious football team captain who’d treated her like a lady the entire evening and given her a chaste good-night kiss on her forehead.

  She’d been disappointed and thrilled at the same time. A deadly mix that had her daydreaming the rest of her high school career about things Eden Hallsey had never dared to dream before.

  Or since.

  Things like marriage and babies and happily-ever-afters.

  But Brady had been too much one of a kind. While he’d renewed her faith in men, she’d yet to meet another man like him.

  “I never knew there was a Brady cheering section,” he told her once they were alone.

  She shrugged and did her best to look nonchalant. “Maybe there wasn’t. Maybe I knew you were there all along and Kasey and I were just carrying on for your benefit.”

  Something passed over his expression the moment she voiced the possibility. A strange look of insecurity, but then it was gone and his grin slid back into place. “So you remember my butt, do you?”

  She tried to sound nonchalant. “Vaguely.”

  He grinned. “I remember your butt, too. And,” he added, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe, “all the rest.”

  Her heart pounded at the prospect. “Really? And here I never thought you gave me a second glance.”

  “Oh, I gave you a second look. And a third. I just couldn’t do any more back then.”

  Because he’d had a girlfriend. A beautiful, popular, possessive girlfriend, and while Eden had heard many rumors that things weren’t so great in paradise, Brady had never let on otherwise. He’d been loyal, and Eden had liked him all the more because of it.

  She still liked him, if the thunder of her heart was any indication.

  “I…” She licked her lips and tried for a calm voice. “I—I think something’s wrong with the air conditioner. It’s really hot in here.”

  “Amen to that,” he said. His eyes fired a brighter blue and she knew he wasn’t referring to the air surrounding them, but the heat flowing between them. “But it’s not your air unit, darlin’. I think it’s you. And me.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” The statement was so unlike her. With any other man she would have flirted rather than played the coy virgin. She wasn’t a virgin, and she certainly wasn’t coy. Not since that day when she’d offered herself to Jake the Butthead Marlboro.

  But this was different. He was different.

  “There’s chemistry between us,” Brady pointed out. “There’s always been chemistry, but it’s stronger now. Too strong to ignore.” He leaned closer and ran his fingertip along her jawline. “You feel it, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “We should do something about it.”

  She nodded, her heart pounding faster. This was it. The moment she’d dreamt of all through high school. Brady Weston was actually going to ask her out on a real date.

  “Sleep with me.”

  The request sent a burst of disappointment through her, followed by a rush of excitement unlike anything she’d ever felt before. All those years of holding him up on a pedestal suddenly seemed so useless. He was no different from the other men she’d met. His request proved as much.

  Now she knew the truth. Her head did, that is. But her body, with its fluttering heart and sweaty palms and shaky knees, had yet to get the message.

  “The attraction between us is too powerful to ignore, darlin’. What do you say? Just for one week?” he continued, a sexy grin on his lips.

  Eden pondered the problem. She still wanted this man despite the fact that he’d clearly proven himself to be just as much of a jerk as every other man. She could see only one solution.

  Once she slept with him and turned Brady from a dream man into a plain, ordinary, flesh-and-blood male, she would stop responding like some silly, naive teenager. His image would be totally shot and he would be out of her system, her curiosity satisfied once and for all.

  “Yes.”

  YES?

  Was she totally nuts?

  Hell, no. You’re Eden Hallsey. Cadillac’s most notorious bad girl, and you’re going to do what any bad girl would do with such a hot, sexy man. You’re going to have sex with him.

  That’s what Eden told herself. The trouble was, this was Brady Weston. The one man Eden had lusted after since puberty. The only man who hadn’t lusted back.

  Until now.

  It seemed as if Brady had turned out to be just another one of the guys wowed by her bad girl image. Far from the gentleman she’d initially thought.

  The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth but, at the same time, she couldn’t suppress the excitement that pounded through her at the prospect of next Saturday night—the first in a week of nights to remember.

  They’d made all the arrangements of a traditional date—Saturday night, the Pink Cadillac, eight o’clock—but the evening to follow would be anything but.

  Cheap, tawdry and degrading.

  Those were the adjectives that should have come to mind. They’d eliminated even the tiniest bit of romance by planning a night of sex as if it were a trip to the dentist.

  But over the next few days as the weekend approached, it was sexy, exciting and empowering that kept her heart beating fast and her blood racing.

  With his wicked smiles and brilliant blue eyes, Brady was the epitomy of sexy.

  For a woman whose sex life had been practically nonexistent, the prospect of being with such a man was exciting. Like a child about to open a present she’d been eyeing under the Christmas tree, she was finally going to know what it felt like to really kiss the man of her dreams. But it was also empowering because, despite the intense disappointment she felt at discovering Brady wasn’t the white knight she’d always envisioned, there was still something oddly liberating about
doing away with all the silly cat-and-mouse games that most men and women played. They both knew what they wanted and they were adult enough to cut right to the chase. No flowers and candy. No empty promises. Just a night of hot, wild sex to sate the lust burning between them.

  Yes!

  5

  “YOU’RE UP AWFUL EARLY this morning.” The comment came from Zeke Masters, an old high school hockey buddy and the newest addition, besides Brady, to the Weston Boots hammering department. “I’m only here this early because once 7:00 a.m. rolls around, we run out of hot water over at Mrs. McGuire’s,” Zeke continued.

  Mrs. McGuire ran the only boarding house in town, which was where Zeke had been living since a very public breakup with his wife of ten years. She’d taken the house over on Main and his job at her parents’ horse ranch, while Zeke had ended up with the clothes on his back and a pop-up tent he’d been using prior to the hellacious rain that had blown the canvas away six weeks ago. He’d had to resort to renting a room, which meant he needed money, which explained his presence at Weston Boots. “Cain’t stand the cold on my bare back, so I’m up and out ‘afore the crack of dawn. What about you?”

  “Thought I’d get a head start on things.” That, and catch his grandfather who was notorious for beating the workers to their spots. The man lived for sunup and Brady was determined that whatever Zachariah Weston liked, he was going to give him.

  He eyed the white pastry bag and steaming foam cup sitting on his work bench.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Zeke asked, his nostrils flaring.

  “White crÈme-filled donuts with chocolate sprinkles fresh from Gentry’s Bakery.” His grandfather’s all-time favorite.

  “Sure does smell good.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  But the crÈme-filled donuts didn’t live up to his expectations ten minutes later when his grandfather walked into the building.