Bare Essentials: Naughty, But Nice. Leslie Kelly

surprise when he whipped her around to face him.

      “Damn it to hell,” he muttered, staring down into her face.

      “Damn what to hell?” she asked, pure frost in her voice.

      Her shoulders were stiff in Tag’s hands, but it had just come to him. The problem he’d been stumbling over since she’d strode into town.

      Yeah, he wanted her, just as she’d accused. But he also…liked her. More than that, he wanted her to trust him.

      She didn’t, not even close, but she would. He was suddenly quite determined about that.

      “You know what I think?” he asked her softly. “I think your kick-ass demeanor, as well as the job that’s made you so famous, is all a front.”

      She stared at him as if he was crazy. “What?”

      “Beneath all that wild sensuality and come-hither smile designed to make grown men beg, you’re all talk.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “You just stroked the cat. I saw you.”

      “So?”

      “So you claim to hate that cat. You claim to hate this town, and yet here you still are. Oh, yeah, I’m on to something all right. You’re not nearly as untamed and uncaring as you want people to believe, not even close.” Sure of himself, he smiled. “In fact, you’re just one great big fraud.”

      She let out a disbelieving laugh. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m as out there as they come, just ask anyone.”

      “Not buying it. You’re all talk, Cassie Tremaine Montgomery. All talk.”

      “You think so?” She grabbed a box off a shelf, tossed it to the floor, then kneeled down to riffle through it. “I’ll show you talk.” She lifted a set of handcuffs. “I have a set of these in my bedroom. Waiting for the right evening, the right lover.”

      He nearly swallowed his tongue, and instead lifted a shoulder. “So what? I have a pair on me all day long.”

      A sound of frustration passed her kissable lips as she tossed the handcuffs over her shoulder and pawed through the box again. With a cry of triumph, she help up a small plastic package holding…

      He gulped hard.

      “A clit ring,” she said. “I have one of these, too.”

      “Are…you wearing it now?”

      Her triumph faded, and with a growl she tossed it over her shoulder to fall next to the discarded handcuffs, leaving him to give a silent thanks because he doubted he could have handled remaining so calm, cool and collected if she’d showed him a clit ring.

      On her clit.

      Just the thought made him break a sweat.

      Cassie dove back into the box, and this time came up with a small white leather pack and a smile that went right to his crotch.

      Lord help him, he’d opened Pandora’s box.

      “Know what this is?” she asked in a sultry voice. “A portable vibrator. For the woman on the go. It fits into a pocket or small purse.”

      Oh, man. He leaned back against the wall, crossed his arms and forced himself to yawn. She would not goad him into a physical relationship, not when she still believed he wanted her only for sex. Nope. He wouldn’t touch her.

      At his feigned boredom, she sputtered. “You think I wouldn’t use this to make myself come?”

      He just lifted a brow.

      Still on her knees, she shot him a look of pure daring, which in truth started his heart pumping, even before she lifted her denim skirt, revealing a tiny patch of red satin masquerading as panties. Pulling out the small white vibrator, she turned it on, smiled the very smile of the devil, and ran it over her thigh before settling it directly between her legs.

      “Mmm,” she whispered, letting her head fall back on her shoulders. Her eyes closed as she slowly moved the vibrator up and down and back again.

      Her breath came quicker, and so did his. “Cassie—”

      “Shh.” Her hips started pumping in tune to her hand.

      His own hands fisted.

      “God. This is so much better than a fumbling man.”

      He’d show her fumbling.

      “Oh, yeah…” The vibrator hummed. Her hand moved faster.

      She moaned softly.

      Up and down.

      The red satin became wet, he could see it.

      And Tag nearly sank to the floor. “Cassie—”

      Her mouth fell open, her tongue came out and wet her lips. Her breath caught and she went still, so utterly still…then shuddered as she let out a little helpless cry, lost in her own pleasure.

      Tag didn’t move a muscle, he couldn’t.

      After a moment she opened sleepy, sated eyes and smiled. “Definitely much better than a man.” With a click she turned off the vibrator and let her skirt fall back down.

      Before she could riffle through the box again, his brain started functioning, barely, and he came forward. “Uncle,” he said hoarsely, hauling her to her feet. “I get it. You’re not all talk. And you’re killing me. Lock up, you’re going home.”

      “I suppose you think you’re going to tuck me in and sing me a lullaby.”

      “No. You’re going home alone.”

      “Suit yourself.”

      No mistaking her anger that he hadn’t fallen at her feet in a boneless mass of need, but no one had ever wanted her for anything besides sex, and he refused to fit into the same mold as all the other assholes in her life.

      “Got your keys?” he asked calmly, as if he couldn’t have hammered steel with his raging erection.

      She pocketed the vibrator and shot him a long look, definitely noticing the problem behind his zipper. “I have my keys.” She patted the vibrator. “In fact, I have everything I need, thank you very much.”

      Fine. She was pissed at him, nothing new. But it was satisfying, despite the burning need of his body, to see the shock in her eyes that he wasn’t going to try to get into her very wet panties.

      And he would hold firm. At least for tonight.

      7

      WITH KATE IN TOWN to help get Bare Essentials going, Cassie felt free to give in to impulse.

      And impulse had her eating whatever she wanted—screw her agent telling her to remain thin—which included a daily sandwich by Diane at the deli. Impulse had her going to the library for more of the books she sucked down every night—and teasing Mrs. Wilkens about her phone sex.

      And impulse sent her back to New York for her agent’s birthday party bash.

      Going back had nothing to do with work. Nothing to do with needing something from her apartment. Or even wanting to see her friends.

      Neither did it mean that she missed New York, because actually, surprisingly, she hadn’t given it that much thought.

      She just needed…out.

      And she made no mistake about it, she knew exactly why she needed out. Tag.

      She still couldn’t believe he’d sent her home alone after she’d teased herself into a feverous pitch in front of him. Granted she hadn’t shown as much skin as she had at the lake, when she’d worn nothing but skin…but she’d masturbated right in front of him! She knew men, damn it, and knew that watching a woman touch