The Pleasure Principle

by Kimberly Raye

  The feeling had morphed into full-blown panic when he’d knocked and knocked, and no one had answered. He’d tried the door, found it unlocked and braced himself for what he would find inside.

  A half-naked woman.

  But not just any half-naked woman. This was Eden Hallsey. Sultry. Sexy. Waiting for him?

  His gaze started at the bottom and traveled up, over trim ankles and shapely calves, smooth thighs and rounded hips. His attention snagged on the triangle of fine blonde hair peeking past the white lace of her bikini panties and his mouth went dry. His heart pounded and for a long, breathless moment, Brady thought he might actually have a heart attack.

  Crazy.

  He drew in a ragged breath and forced his gaze higher, over the soft roundness of her abdomen, the dark shadow of her belly button, to her bare breasts. Soft and round and full, they trembled as she pulled a dress from the closet. Rose-colored nipples pebbled beneath his study and for a few frantic heartbeats, he got the impression that she was more aware of his presence than she wanted him to think.

  But then she leaned over, her breasts swaying as she stepped into the dress, and his thoughts scattered.

  Everything about her screamed sin. The way she moved, her breasts bobbing and her bottom swiveling as she shimmied the material up her thighs, over her hips. The way she looked, with her full, sensuous lips partially open, her hair long and tousled, as if she’d just rolled from beneath the covers.

  A man didn’t have to be a genius to understand how she’d gotten her reputation. He’d lay money that there weren’t too many men who could look at her, clothed or otherwise, and not think about sex. She was the original Eve. Lush and tempting and irresistible. Poor Adam. It was no wonder he’d taken a bite of that damned apple. As hard and as desperate as Brady felt, he would have gobbled down an entire bushel, cores and all. He was just a man, after all, and Eden Hallsey would tempt even the most devout.

  Although the thought of her tempting anyone else sent a surge of anger through him.

  Crazy.

  He’d deliberately picked her because she was so tempting. The perfect woman to validate his manhood.

  His and no other.

  He shook the notion away. Eden Hallsey was everything his grandaddy had warned him about where women were concerned. A vamp. That’s what the old man would have called her. That and a few other choice words. Zachariah Weston’s idea of the ideal woman had nothing to do with lust and libido and looks, and everything to do with background and breeding and money.

  We marry our own kind.

  He hadn’t. He’d married his complete and total opposite. A mistake he didn’t intend to repeat ever again.

  When, if he ever made that walk down the aisle, it would be with his family’s blessing, with someone they found suitable. Someone with the same values, the same hopes and dreams. Marriage was hard enough without adding conflicting interests which was exactly what he’d had with his first marriage. Sally had valued money above family.

  But money didn’t solve problems or bring happiness or keep people together. Love did that.

  The only thing Brady and Eden had in common was their lust.

  His gaze made another long, slow trek up her body and back down again, his heart thundering, his breathing coming in short gasps. She was dressed now, yet he was still rock hard. And growing harder by the minute. Particularly when she reached beneath the dress and pulled down her panties. She stepped free of the lace and his erection jumped.

  The clothing should have helped calm his libido. Out of sight, out of mind, or so the saying went.

  It didn’t matter.

  It wasn’t just seeing what lay beneath the clingy white sundress that turned him on. It was the knowing.

  That she’d shed her panties. She wore nothing but the dress. A very short, sleeveless little white number that clung to every curve.

  No slip. No bra. No panties. Nothing.

  The thought replayed in his head as he watched her lift her arms and pull her hair back into a simple ponytail. Her fingers worked at the rubberband and he found himself mesmerized by the soft ripple of muscle in her biceps as she pushed and pulled and—

  “There,” she announced, her voice jarring him from his speculation.

  Letting her arms fall to her sides, she turned fully toward him and smiled. As their gazes met, he knew in an instant that she’d been fully aware of his watching her.

  That she’d liked it.

  “Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

  “Uh, no. I mean, yes. I mean…” What the hell did he mean? “Yes, you kept me waiting.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Careful. Your nose is liable to grow.”

  “Along with another certain particular body part, I see.” Her attention dropped to his waist before she met his gaze again. Her smile widened, but it didn’t quite touch her eyes. They were dark and smoky and filled with desire and he knew the playfulness was just a show.

  “I’d rather you touch, darlin’.”

  “Not yet.” She moved back before he could slide his arm around her and for a split second, he glimpsed the hesitation he’d seen earlier. A self-consciousness that told him she wasn’t nearly as in control as she was pretending to be.

  “Then why did you call me over here. I could have come by on my way home from work. That’s what I was planning.”

  “Maybe I have different plans.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Judging by the way your bottom lip is trembling, the way it always trembles when you’re turned on, your plans can’t be that different from mine.”

  “I thought we could go out to dinner first.”

  “I thought we weren’t dating.”

  “This isn’t a date date. It’s eating. We just happen to be doing it at the same time. Together.”

  “So this is what you meant by needing me?” he asked as he ushered her out the door and down the stairs to his truck.

  “Exactly.”

  He glanced around and noted that her truck was missing. “You need transportation.”

  “I loaned Kasey my truck.” She climbed into the passenger side of his vehicle. He moved to shut the door, but then she pulled the hem of her dress up and moved to cross her legs.

  His heart stalled as he caught sight of the tiny blond hairs between her legs and the swollen pink slit. Then one knee hooked over the other and the vision disappeared.

  He drew in a deep breath and lifted his gaze to find her smiling at him.

  “So why does Kasey have your truck?” he asked a few seconds later as he climbed behind the wheel and tried to ignore the fact that she was completely naked beneath her dress.

  “She’s picking up supplies for tomorrow night’s football widows’ party.”

  “A big screen is the way to go,” he told her.

  “If you’ve got money to burn, which I don’t. Then again, maybe my lottery numbers will come in tonight.”

  “Now that’s burning money.”

  “Haven’t you ever gambled on anything before?”

  “I prefer a sure thing.”

  “So do I.”

  There was just something about the way she said the words that drew his attention. He turned to see her lick her lips before they dropped to his lap.

  “You’re up to something.”

  “Actually,” she said as she leaned toward him and stroked his thigh an inch shy of the erection already throbbing in his pants. “The plan is to get you up, and I think we’re right on schedule.”

  “ARE YOU SURE you want to go here?” Brady’s voice drew her attention and Eden turned to see him sitting behind the wheel, staring through the windshield at the building that sat in the distance. “The place looks awful crowded. Chances are we’re not going to get a table.”

  “I made reservations,” she said as she climbed out and rounded the front of the truck.

  He met her halfway. “I thought it was pure chance that we happened to be hungry at the same time.”<
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  “Pure chance resulting from a carefully laid out plan.” She grinned and reached for his hand. “Come on.”

  A few minutes later they were seated in a quaint corner of the steak house. The inside consisted of dark paneled walls covered with all sorts of ranch paraphernalia, from rusted horseshoes to branding irons. Checkered tablecloths covered the tables. Mason jars held flickering red candles. It was Texas chic, if there was such a thing, and Eden’s favorite place to eat since she’d first walked in on the night of her high school graduation.

  Her parents had splurged and taken her to the expensive restaurant to celebrate. Many of the other parents had had the same idea and the restaurant had been filled with high school kids and their families. She’d sat in the restaurant and talked and laughed like all the other kids she went to school with, and for the first time, she’d felt as if she belonged.

  It had been a short-lived feeling. Her reputation had already been established by then and on the way to the car, Jeremy Michaels had slapped her butt as she’d walked by.

  But for those few precious hours before then…

  She’d had one of the most normal experiences of her life. Growing up, she’d spent most of her free time in the bar. Her parents had worked hellacious hours to afford the mortgage on the place, her mom waiting tables and her father tending bar, and they’d had very little time for traditional family outings.

  She’d loved the Longhorn ever since, even though she rarely had a chance to dine there. The prices were high and her income low and so she settled for her memories most of the time.

  But not tonight. Tonight was about control and the Longhorn was her place.

  Unfortunately, it felt more like Brady’s place as customer after customer walked by and greeted him. Then again, she should have expected it. He was the town’s golden boy. Zachariah Weston’s only grandson. Heir to the Weston fortune.

  Different.

  She forced the notion aside and concentrated on dinner, on leaning over just enough to give him a glimpse of her cleavage. Under the cover of the long table cloth, she slid off her shoes and trailed her bare toes along the inside of his jean-clad thigh.

  She’d just worked her way under his napkin when she heard the familiar voice.

  “Well if it isn’t Eden Hallsey.”

  “Jake,” she growled as she retracted her foot and slid her sandal back on. She put on her most fake, pretentious, I-think-you’re-an-asshole-and-you-know-it smile. “You’re looking as good as ever.”

  He flexed. “Owe it all to the Tummy Tightener. They’re on sale this week at the Killeen MegaMart. You need it, we got it.”

  She eyed him. “I guess you’re not into pharmaceuticals.”

  “Sure we are. We’ve got a full line of vitamins, cold remedies—we cure what ails you.”

  “No Rogaine?” She shrugged. “I swear your hairline’s receded a good three inches since I last saw you.”

  “I was just in your place last week.”

  “I know. That much must be some kind of record, don’t you think? I bet Guiness is beating down your door.”

  “You can insult me all you want. You’re not going to make me retract my offer. I still want to buy your place.”

  “And I’m still saying no. There’s plenty of land down by the Interstate. Buy there.”

  “I’ll buy where I want. You’ve got a prime location.”

  “And you’re doing a prime job of running everyone out of business. But you’re not doing it to me.”

  “Why don’t you stop being so stubborn and take what I’m offering you?”

  “I don’t think you heard the lady. She’s not interested.”

  “Stay out of then Weston. This is between old friends. Ain’t that right, Eden? We go way back, don’t we?”

  “And from the looks of things,” Brady said as he patted Jake’s middle. “You lied just as much then as you do now.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just saying that you probably don’t even own a Tummy Toner. In fact, I hear tell you owe those abs to a plastic surgeon over in Austin.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Hazards of a small town. People talk. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Well it’s not true. It’s a lie.”

  Brady winked at Eden. “You’d know that better than anyone too.”

  “That was a long time ago. Eden’s not still mad about it, are you, sugar?”

  “Maybe she’s not, but I am.” Brady leaned back and folded his arms. “And she’s not your sugar.”

  “YOU’RE MAD,” Eden said an hour later as they walked into her apartment. After Jake had stomped away, they’d eaten the rest of their dinner in silence. She’d tried the footsie move once more, but Brady wasn’t receptive. “You are mad.”

  “I am not.”

  “You didn’t have to interfere. I could have handled him myself. I was handling him.”

  He dropped down on the sofa and stared up at her. “And you wee doing a damned good job. Most women would have climbed up on their high horse and put on airs.”

  “I don’t put on airs. I call it like I see it and Jake was, is and always will be, short of some major life-changing miracle, a bonafide jerk.”

  “I agree.”

  “Is that why you butted in? Because he’s a jerk?”

  “Because he was being a jerk to you.” Brady shook his head. “I didn’t like it. And I didn’t like the way Hershell Marks was staring at you from the next table. And the way the waiter kept staring at you. And the way every man in the whole damned place, short of Reverend Skelly, was staring at you.” He frowned. “You should put on some clothes.”

  Her first instinct should have been to tell him to go to hell. Wasn’t that just like a man to blame a woman for attracting attention? She’d butted heads with her fair share of jealous men. Men who wanted her.

  Men who wanted to own her.

  But this was different.

  He was different. The way he looked—so angry and offended and protective—sent a burst of warmth through her.

  And so Eden did what she’d been wanting to do since the moment she’d felt his gaze on her while she’d been dressing earlier that evening.

  She walked up to him, took his face between her hands, and kissed him.

  10

  HIS MOUTH FIT hers perfectly. She didn’t have to think about kissing him. It happened as effortlessly as breathing. His mouth opened and hers opened, as if they’d shared this very same moment time and time again. A familiarity forged over years rather than a few nights.

  The realization startled her, but then his hands covered hers and he deepened the kiss and she forgot everything save the deep probe of his tongue and the warmth of his fingers against hers.

  Their tongues tangled and the world seemed to fall away. She forgot all about the rest of her plan—to lure him into the bedroom, tie his wrists to her bedposts with the satin sash from her favorite robe and seduce him until he begged for mercy.

  They made it to the sofa. He fell into a sitting position and she followed him. Her dress rode up past her hips, leaving her exposed and naked as she straddled him.

  “You drove me crazy all night,” he murmured in between kisses. “I kept thinking of you like this.”

  “That was the idea.” She reached for the snap on his jeans and felt the hard, thick length of him. His breath caught on a hiss as she took her time unzipping, exploring and stroking until he could take no more.

  “Stop.” The word, so raw and deep and pleading, sent a burst of power through her. He might not be tied up, but he was at her mercy.

  As much as she’d been at his the past few days.

  “Stop right now.”

  “If that’s what the man wants.” She started to unstraddle him, but he caught her hips, jerking her back down and rubbing her along the length of him. His jeans created a delicious friction against the slick heat between her legs. “This is what I want,” he said,
slipping his fingers between her legs, tracing the moist slit before touching her clit with one callused fingertip. She trembled as sensation, white-hot and consuming, speared her. The cry jumped to the tip of her tongue, but she managed to hold it back. Barely.

  The realization that he had such fierce power over her, that he could make her want to break free, to cry out, sent a wave of fear rolling through her, followed by determination. This was her show. Her chance to slide back into the driver’s seat, and she did just that.

  She forced a deep breath, leaned over and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, nipping as she moved her hips, rubbing herself up and down his bulging crotch until he groaned. He donned a condom, then caught her bare bottom in his hands and held her still. “Wait.”

  “No,” she murmured, lifting herself. She clenched her teeth as she guided herself down on him.

  Even as he grasped her hips, he didn’t try to force her into his rhythm, but let her find her own. She raised and lowered herself, rubbing the tips of her breasts against the soft hair of his chest and returning his deep, devouring kisses. She felt strong and sure as she met his passion.

  A woman in control.

  Sensation built and the pressure increased as she rode him. The steady rise and fall of her pelvis pulled him deeper and pushed her higher. The pleasure was sharp and intense and sweet. So very, very sweet.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

  She barely heard his voice above the thunder of her own heart, but when she did, her eyes opened and she found him staring up at her, his gaze full of blazing heat. He was watching the way he always did, but this time it didn’t send her into a panic. She was the one in control. The one setting the pace for their pleasure.

  The knowledge fed the fire burning inside her and she moved faster, drawing him in and out in a frantic rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart.

  Her climax hit her hard and fast, rolling over her like a giant wave, sucking her under. Her entire body trembled and her legs tightened, holding him deep, milking him as spasm after spasm gripped her.