âYou canât just go around kissing strangers,â Kate said
Jack held out his hands. âYou said you werenât married.â
âWhat if I were engaged? Or a nun? Or what if I didnât like men?â
âEngaged isnât married, so Iâd say tough luck to the guy.â Grinning, he continued. âYou as a nun would be a crime against nature, definitely worth ignoring.â He glanced down at her, his stare taking in her hardened nipples and her trembling legs. The musky scent of aroused woman teased his nostrils. âAnd not liking men isnât in the realm of possibility,â Jack finally said smoothly. âYou want me pretty badly.â
Her jaw dropped and he tipped it back up with the tip of his finger. âNow, for introductions. Iâm Jack. Itâs very nice to meet you. And you areâ¦?â
She ignored his question. âYou followed me.â
He didnât try to deny it. âGuilty as charged.â
That stopped her. âWhy?â
He shrugged. âFate? Instinct?â Then he lowered his voice, whispering into her ear as he leaned in closer, aligning his body with hers. âOr maybe so I could see what color eyes my children are going to have.â
Dear Reader,
When the new Blaze line launched last year, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Anyone whoâs read the stories I write for Temptation know I have no problem turning up the heat. But whenever I sat down to work up a story, I had trouble coming up with the right premise. My critique partner, Jill Shalvis, was having the same problem. But with the encouragement of our wonderful editors at Harlequin, we put our heads together and came up with the outrageous stories of two cousins who want to wreak a little havoc by opening a sex shop in their old hometown. Throw in a little sexual revenge, and the BARE ESSENTIALS miniseries was born.
I loved working on this project with Jill. It challenged me as a writer to work with another authorâs characters and story line. Iâd also like to say a special thank-you to Harlequin for allowing us to be a part of this trend of simultaneously released books in a miniseries. So look for Jillâs book, Naughty But Nice , out right now.
I love to hear from my readers. Please write to me at P.O. Box 410787, Melborne, FL 32941â0787, or drop me an e-mail through my Web site www.lesliekelly.com. And donât forget to check out tryblaze.com.
Happy (and hot!) reading,
Leslie Kelly
Naturally Naughty
Leslie Kelly
To Jill Shalvisâ
a great critique partner, an even greater friend. Thanks for always being there.
And, as always, to Bruce.
Thanks for the Christmas gifts/tax write-offs. Research has never been more fun.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Ten Years Ago
H OLDING HER PINK taffeta dress up to her knees, Kate Jones trudged toward home wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. Live burial seemed better than spending one more night in Pleasantville, Ohio. Her cousinâs favorite expression came to mindâ This townâs about as pleasant as a yeast infection .
Without a doubt, this evening would have a place on Kateâs list of all-time worst experiences. No, it wasnât nearly as bad as when her dad had died, or when her mom had brought her here to live, a town where their family was treated like dirt. In terms of teenage experiences, however, tonight was bad. Kate had been resoundingly dumped. On prom night no less.
You should have stayed , a voice whispered in her brain.
Kate snorted. âStayed? After being jilted by Darren for Angela Winfield, wickedest witch on earth? Right!â
Cassie wouldnât have run away . No, her cousin would have popped Angela one, kicked Darren where it counted, and told them to stick it where the sun didnât shine. Too bad sheâd left early.
She passed another dark house. Its inhabitants were probably cozy in their beds, reflecting on their pleasant days. They wouldnât think twice about her trudging in the street. Whoâd expect anything else from a trashy Tremaine? Her last name might be Jones, but no one let her forget her motherâs maiden name. In spite of being a straight-A student whoâd never gotten into any real trouble, people here believed Kate must have hit every no-good branch on her way down the Tremaine family tree.
Turning off Petunia onto Pansy Lane, Kate grimaced for the half-millionth time at the dumb street names. Iâd love a giant bottle of Weed-B-Gone . She could think of a creeping pest sheâd like to zap. Darren.
âDarrenâs a conceited jerk.â Kate knew she shouldnât have gone with him, especially since his mother hated her. But just for one night sheâd wanted to be part of the in crowd. Sheâd wanted to be cool and popular, instead of the nice, quiet girl who tried to disguise her familyâs poverty by getting good grades and working harder than anyone ever expected.
Tonight at the prom Angela had pawed all over Darren, urging him to ditch Kate and leave with her instead. The whole school knew Angela put out. And despite being a trashy Tremaine, Kate did not. Hmm, such a tough choice for DarrenâAngela the tramp from the most respected family in town? Or Kate the pure, from the trashiest one? What was a horny eighteen-year-old boy to do?