Pleasure With Purpose Read Free

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.
     
    A smil e o n he r lips , sh e poure d hersel f a glas s o f th e wine, as sh e ofte n did for he r customers . The n sh e settle d dow n on th e fluff y pin k circula r sof a i n th e cente r o f th e room.
     
    No w al l sh e neede d wa s a littl e Sharo n Ston e action . A flip o f th e remot e turne d o n th e television-DVD player combinatio n wher e th e femm e fatal e wa s a l read y deposited fo r play.
     
    Th e scree n fille d wit h th e ima ge o f Sharo n Stone' s bare breasts, as she rode a willing male. Heather' s eye s went wide. Good gosh, she'd forgotten how shockingly erotic this movi e was . She blinked and refocused, tilting her head a bit to examine th e perfec t breast s displayed before her...a bit intim i datin g, it was . They couldn't be real. Surely, they weren’t real.
     
    She swallowed a si p o f wine , and downed it, then refilled it and took another sip, feeling warm all over and very, very "almost" sexy. She walked--no strutted– towar d th e hug e double-glasse d mirro r at th e fa r en d o f th e l ounge.
     
    Standin g i n fron t o f it , sh e scrutinize d herself . He r hai r was stil l pulle d i n a tigh t conservativ e kno t a t th e to p o f he r head, which did her no favors. Sh e reache d u p an d release d he r clip . Chestnut wave s fel l down he r shoulders, softening her look. Better, she thought. Then, wit h a n objectiv e eye—fo r th e firs t tim e i n years—she continue d the surve y o f he r image.
     
    He r hai r wa s nice . Okay , bette r tha n nice . Sh e ha d good hair— t her e wa s on e positive . And her