Pleasure With Purpose (2 page)

Brenda turned Heather to face her. “You are not ‘Boney Knees’ anymore. Looking good is your well-deserved revenge for all those years of being teased, so, damn it, enjoy it.”

Heather’s heart warmed. Brenda was always there for her–outrageously, wonderfully, her best friend. “And I didn’t even pay you to say all that.”

Brenda slid a loose lock of Heather’s hair behind her ear. “You know what you need? Besides an obvious dose of confidence and a hot man in your bed, that is. What you need is to ‘fake it 'til you make it.' ”

Heather grimaced at the familiar "Mary Kay Cosmetics" saying they’d jokingly used since college, when they’d both tried to be sales reps and failed miserably. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”

She grinned. “You bet I did. And you have all the resources to ‘Fake it 'til you make it’ right there in your boutique. Dress up in some of that sexy lingerie you sell in your store, drink some wine, and strut around your store in front of all those fancy mirrors inside, until you’re comfortable in your own skin. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll go find you a hot man you can seduce–a stranger. Someone you know you will never see again, and therefore, you won’t have to worry about the morning after. Then you’ll have your confidence, and you’ll have your orgasms.”

“
I’m not going to play dress-up, Brenda. I’m not. And I’m not going to go pick up some stranger. That’s not me and you know it.”

“
Ah!” Brenda said, holding up a finger. “I know the perfect mood movie.” She darted down the hall toward the living room, as if she’d never heard Heather’s objection.

“
Brenda,” she said, bringing her friend into view just as she held up a DVD from the shelf by the large-screen television. “Watch and learn.
Basic
Instincts
and Sharon Stone--the Femme Fatale at her best.”

“
Now you’re just being silly.”

“
Sexy mood makers are never silly. I’m serious here, Heather. Dress up in some lingerie and watch this movie, or whatever movie you like. Heck, read a steamy romance novel. I have a shelf full I can share. Oh and you know what? We have Rebecca’s wedding in two weeks. What a perfect place to find a hot man.”

Heather opened her mouth to reject the idea, but just thinking of their friend Rebecca’s hot architect husband-to-be gave her pause. Not only were the two of them wildly in love, Rebecca had shared far too much information about the creative places they found to make love. The memory was more fuel for Heather’s fast-growing orgasm envy.

And damn it, she was tired of envy. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Let’s do it.”

“
Do what?”

The deep masculine rumble of Brad’s voice shot through Heather like a match under a chocolate fondue, melting her in all those female places she’d otherwise swear weren’t…well--meltable.

Brenda grinned and turned toward the Master bedroom off the living area. “Heather and I are talking man-hunting.”

“
Brenda!” Heather exclaimed, whirling around and then almost swallowing her tongue. Brad leaned against the doorway of his bedroom looking deliciously edible in a tight white T-shirt, and soft, faded jeans with one knee torn. All he needed was the leather jacket somewhere in his closet to be perfect. The one he wore when he rode his Harley.

Brad arched a brow at Heather. “Anyone I know?”

“
What?” Heather asked. She couldn’t think. What was he asking her? “Know? Anyone you know for what?”

“
He means the man you’re hunting,” Brenda said to Heather and then to Brad, “We aren’t talking about men we know,
Bradley
.”

Only his sister and his parents could call Brad, ‘Bradley.' ” Brenda and Bradley Carrington…the two B’s–constantly aggravating each other, and always, always, there for each other. Just as they had been for her.

Brenda continued, snapping Heather out of the past and back to the very real, very embarrassing present. “We’re talking about the adventure of being with someone new and hot and…Would you believe Heather’s never—”

“
Stop!” Heather shouted, pointing a finger at Brenda. “Don’t you dare say another word.”

Brenda laughed, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Brad opened his mouth to speak, and Heather could see the brotherly reprimand in his expression. She couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it. “And don’t you even say whatever you plan on saying. The last thing I need is a lecture from you, ‘Mr. Double Standard,’ Barbie-chasing errrr…” Okay maybe she was going too far. “Just don’t lecture me.” She whirled around to Brenda. “I’m leaving. This discussion is over.” Heather grabbed her purse from the floor by the chair and started walking. Unfortunately, she had to pass Brad’s doorway to get to the doorway she needed.

“
Wait!” Brenda yelled. “Don’t forget the DVD.”

Heather and Brad were almost side by side when Heather stopped, the scent of freshly showered male flaring in her nostrils, his deep blue eyes boring into hers for all the wrong reasons–not because he wanted her, but because he wanted to
lecture
her.

“
If you need to talk, I’m around,” he said softly.

“
Talk?” she asked, suddenly angry, and she wasn’t sure why. “You hear the word
sex
attached to my name, and you think about talking? Like somehow me and sex means there’s a problem that must be discussed?”

“
I wasn’t aware the word ‘sex’ was ever mentioned?”

“
Then I guess we should have defined ‘man-hunting’ for you,” she said, pining for a reaction from him for reasons she was sure she wouldn’t like when later analyzed, but she charged onward. “Wine, flowers, and romantic walks in the park are part of the process.
Sex is
. Just sex--good sex--and lots of it.” Heather turned back to Brenda and accepted the DVD. “We’re on for that wedding,” she said, barely glancing at her friend.

“
What’s wrong with you?” Brad asked, as Heather’s gaze collided with his again.

Exactly
her point! She thought.
What
was wrong with her? Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t any of his business, and she was going to fix it and fast. “I simply want what all women want,” she replied coolly. “And that isn’t wrong. It’s actually right.”

One dark brow darted upward. “Which is what--
exactly
?”

She was feeling more daring with each passing second. “I’m sure your imagination can figure that one out pretty darn easily.”

Behind her, Brenda laughed at Heather’s uncharacteristically risqué twist on words. Feeling quite empowered, Heather stepped forward and reached for the door. She had needs, she had wants. Okay, so she had some fears too. But darn it! She was done letting those fears get in the way of the wants and needs. Hello orgasm. Goodbye fear. And she was feeling pretty good about that decision until she heard Brenda shout, “No more bunny ears! Take out the batteries.”

Heather cringed at the reference to her vibrator that she was certain would be discussed in way too vivid detail with Brad, who, as of today, had no place in either her fantasies, or near her bunny's drawer.

She fled to the hallway, vowing to find a replacement for her Brad fantasies in the immediate future. And darn it, until then--she was keeping the bunny and the batteries.

Chapter Two

Monday evening, the day after her Brad encounter, Heathe
r
turne
d
th
e
sig
n
i
n
he
r
sho
p
wind
o
w
t
o
"Closed,
"
an
d
dimme
d
th
e
stor
e
lights.
A
smal
l
smil
e
playe
d
o
n
he
r
lip
s
a
s
sh
e
scurrie
d
toward
wha
t
sh
e
calle
d
he
r
circl
e
o
f
play
.
Si
x
dressin
g
room
s
framed
a
loung
e
are
a
wher
e
wome
n
ofte
n
prance
d
aroun
d
i
n
lingerie,
drank wine, and, in g
e
neral, had a good time.
I
t
wa
s a
plac
e
Heathe
r
ha
d
create
d
t
o
mak
e
he
r
store
mor
e
tha
n a
shoppin
g
place. Man
y
o
f
he
r
repea
t
customer
s
woul
d
spen
d
hour
s
here,
trying on lingerie, planning their
fu
n
interlud
e
wit
h
som
e
man,
an
d
the
n
buyin
g
lot
s
o
f
products.

Thi
s
wa
s to be
th
e
firs
t
tim
e
Heathe
r
wa
s
goin
g
t
o
us
e
th
e
room
for her own fun, which said a lot. She’d created this world, but never dared to use it for herself? That spoke of a sensual side dying to get out, suppressed, only allowed to flourish vicariously through others. No more, not tonight, and not from now on.

Underneat
h
he
r
conservativ
e
blac
k
sui
t
wa
s a
silky
, s
exy, itsy-bitsy
,
blac
k
lac
e
br
a
an
d
pant
y
set she had never indulged in, never felt quite right in. And just knowing she had the sexy lingerie had made her feel just a little more sexy throughout the day.
A feminine sw
a
y
ha
d
someho
w worked its way into her walk, and the mirror had somehow grabbed her attention, when she usually ignored her reflection.

She’d also put on sexier, higher heels, but those weren’t going quite as well as the lingerie. He
r
fee
t
hurt. She hoped the heels and a sexy sway became less painful as she became more experienced. Because if practic
e didn’t equal pleasure, rather than pain, she might not be up for the task of being sexy. Heather walked toward the back of the store and paused in a mirror to survey said aching feet in said sexy shoes. Okay, so her legs looked sexy, compliments of sexy shoes. Maybe they were
wort
h a little long-term pain.

Sh
e
reache
d
fo
r a
blac
k
sil
k
rob
e
o
n a
nearb
y
rack on the way to her playroom, where she quickl
y
dispose
d
o
f
he
r
clothes
,
leavin
g
onl
y
he
r
lingeri
e
and
high heels. She tossed the robe on a stool, refusing her first instinct—to hide beneath it.