His husky tone tickled my ears. “Put something sexy on?”
My giggling led to a snort. “Do you seriously want to have phone sex?”
“No, I’m peeking in your window. Strip for me and put something sexy on, like you know I’m watching.”
Fucking hot.
Since the bedroom window happened to be positioned behind me, I slowly turned toward it. Creeped out and turned on at the exact same time? Each hair on my arms stood at attention, so did my nipples. My pale flesh was covered in goose bumps, too exposed by my tank top and panties. No amount of clothing would hide my apprehensions or my desires to please him.
With the window coverings cracked open in the middle, a glimpse of the blinds revealed they were also open. Because it was dark outside and lights were on inside, he was able to see into my bedroom with no problem.
An erotic peeping tom? Is there such a thing?
“How long you gonna make me wait?” His deep breathy voice prevailed.
“I’m putting you on speaker and shutting the door.” By flicking my wrist, the phone landed on the top of the comforter.
With deep, infiltrating breaths of courage, I stepped into my closet, which was located off the back end of my master bathroom. My lingerie lineup was only a few rockstar pieces deep, so I selected the one I thought would set his appetite to sail.
Grateful I had a stool in the middle of the room to sit on for steadiness, I slipped off my tank top and panties, replacing them with black, lace-trimmed stockings, matching thong and garter while pairing them with a new black and red lace bustier. A glance up at the top of my closet reminded me of the brand new Christian Louboutins.
I covered myself with the only sexy robe I owned, a red silk, floor-length wraparound. To finish the look, the ponytail had to go, but at least my hair was freshly washed and full of bounce.
The great thing about having an iPod was music, so I carefully selected a song that got me in the mood to dance, “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye. A complete sex classic. I dare anyone to listen to it and not move their hips at least once. Since Ian was on speaker, he got to hear the music too, while he participated as my voyeur.
Slowly, I unfastened the robe and let it slip down to my waist in the back, giving him a special viewing of the corset. With a sway of my hips, the robe floated to the floor.
“Nice,” he groaned. “God, my dick is so hard for you right now.”
The song was only so long, so I stepped up the game with sensual moves before sitting on the bed removing shoes and a stocking. By this point, my own sex was drenching the sheer fabric covering it.
Another lesson from the master was unfolding.
With both shoes and stockings off and Marvin enticing me to roll my hips, I flipped over on the bed and grabbed the vibrator from a bag in the nightstand drawer.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
Such a solo word that carries so much meaning. Literally. Yes, I was going to fuck my vibrator, and Mr. Peeper was only getting to watch.
The music played while I pleasured myself around the garter and thong. When I threw my head back in my release, I didn’t expect to see my bedroom door fly open.
“Ian,” I gasped. My proclamation louder than I’d intended.
“I must have you now.”
Chapter Three
After Ian had left, I stayed awake for hours, trying to put my arms around our complicated situation. We’d been dating a month, and it wasn’t the right time in our relationship to move in together, but I didn’t like either of us leaving a child alone even for a second. While he was away from Oliver for maybe thirty minutes, it was thirty minutes too long. We were playing with fire, clearly taking careless and foolish chances just to satisfy our libidos. But, God was it hot.
Since Oliver was used to having a nanny around, perhaps it made sense to employ one full time to live in with them. That way she could keep both boys when we wanted to go out or be alone. If we were living together or got married, that’s what we’d do, but it needed to be Ian’s idea, not mine. That was his home and his personal business.
Oh, how easy the days of hooking up were when I was single and kid-less.
Ty and I met Oliver and Ian at the playground at nine-thirty. It was a lovely day, almost spring-like, which is typical change-of-the-weather Texas style. While the boys played with other kids from the neighborhood, Ian kept his arm behind me on the back of the bench. It was painful not to scoot close to him, but vibrantly patient on my part for fear of rubbing it in the boys’ faces.
Oliver was the first to approach us. “Dad, are we going to see sharks today at the water place?” He was missing two teeth in the front, and his eyes were dancing in delight for our afternoon trip. It was nice to see his sweet youthfulness shining through rather than his very confused, early pre-teen side. I wasn’t ready for that with Ty either.
“Yes, do you like sharks?” I answered for Ian and probably shouldn’t have.
Oliver merely glared at me.
“Oliver, Chelsie asked you a question. It’s rude not to answer.”
He kicked at the dirt in front of me, nervous and no longer able to make eye contact since his dad got on to him. “Yep. I’ve seen them when we were surfing, but they don’t scare me.”
Panic gripped me. Everyone has his own limits of exhilaration he chases. I couldn’t imagine being on a surfboard with sharks in the water around me. Looking to Ian, I’d hoped he would declare the statement an exaggeration.
His chuckle was an attempt to smooth my chicken-ass down. “He’s right. We’ve seen several tiger sharks, and even once, a great white that a boat was trailing.”
Audibly, air filled my lungs. “No way. I’d have a panic attack.” Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, I rolled my shoulders inward and shuddered.
“Meh, piece of cake for us, but probably not your thing.” Oliver smarted.
As Oliver ran off, I looked over at Ian and watched as his face tightened like he was in pain. Gaining acceptance from his son had become my constant obsession.
Would I lose Ian if Oliver never accepted me?
On the way home from dinner after the visit to the Dallas Aquarium, both boys were asleep, and it was barely dark. We’d wore them out with a full day of activities. Even though everyone always got along great and we didn’t have any real competition or squabbling, I knew those days were ahead of us and my anxiety on how to overcome the obstacles continued to build.
Ian held my hand, and we listened to music. He was overly quiet, and although smiling and possessing a happy spirit, he kept his voice low when he did talk.
“Denise is on vacation to see her son, so Elsa is coming over tonight and will be our nanny for the next week.”
“Tonight? You’re on call?” Confused because he had a couple of beers at dinner, his comment left me analyzing each word.
“No, I have a surprise for you.” A sexy roll of his eyes led to a provocative smile.
I glanced over my shoulder to confirm four ears were still silenced and out cold. “You’re a sexy little devil, and I love you. What’s the plan?”
“Hard to describe, so I’ll just have to show you.”
Okay, that was cryptic.
We put the boys down at his house, and Elsa arrived just in time, toting a suitcase with her. “Good to see you, Chelsie. How are you feeling?”
“I’m doing very well and almost back to normal. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen you.” Glancing down at the big suitcase and back to her face, I said, “Looks like you’ve packed for a week.”
“I did. Dr. Briggs said to prepare for the whole week, so here I am.”
Elsa was fabulous with the boys, but older than Denise, and she didn’t play with them like Denise was known to or allow them to play ‘hide and go seek’ in the laundry chute. Elsa made a teasing remark once about her strict German father putting an invisible rod in her back. It’s the only time I can recall her teasing at all. But, to Ian’s point, being a nanny for
him isn’t always about fun and games. “Children need to know strong boundaries.”
Funny, I rarely witnessed any boundaries for Oliver.
Ian was changing for our evening out and when he returned to the den where Elsa and I were discussing my latest tests, I noticed they shared glances, but neither of them spoke of the plan. Sometimes his surprises annoyed me. Let’s face it, an OCD person likes normalcy and control—rock our world and we fall apart at the seams.
After stopping at my house so I could shower and change, Ian suggested a dress and perhaps a pair of the new shoes he’d given me. “It won’t hurt my feelings if that lingerie from the other night got an instant replay.”
Okay, that was an adorable hint, and I took it. While he waited patiently watching the evening news from the chair in my bedroom, I dolled myself up in the privacy of my large bathroom that had no sign of a man’s product anywhere.
Outside, we got into the chauffeured Town Car, and the aura of the unspoken surprise titillated me. Rather than ask him again, I employed my miniscule level of patience to endure however long it was before we arrived.
When the driver pulled up in front of the boutique, complete confusion set in. “What’s going on?”
“Open the door and find out.”
When we entered the building, beautiful pink roses scattered everywhere greeted me. A round display table had been repurposed as a makeshift dining table in the middle of the store with champagne, strawberries, and chocolate.
Giggling, I covered my mouth in total awe. My man had listened to me. He’d gone out of his way to break walls down and was trying hard to prove to me his love, sensuality, and patience.
He took my evening bag from me and placed it on the table. The champagne was opened with a pop, but no mess, thanks to his excellent pouring skills.
With our champagne glasses tilted together, his blue eyes penetrated me in delicious anticipation. “May I always make you feel worthy.”
Oh, dear Lord, his precious words melt me.
Suddenly, more lights came through the front windows of the shop. “Who’s that? Are we having a party?”
“Only for two, my love.” He left me for a moment to open the door.
An elegantly dressed woman entered, followed by a gentleman sporting a tux. Suddenly, I felt underdressed.
“Chelsie, I’d like you to meet Denorah Jackson and her accompanist, Sparky Dukes.”
We said our hellos, but confusion still filled me.
That’s when Ian removed a key from an envelope on the table. “Follow me.”
He led us to the other side of the building, where all the antiques had been removed, and to my shock, the place had been professionally cleaned. Toward the far back corner, a gorgeous baby grand piano had been placed. Denorah and Sparky took their places, while Ian pulled my hand to his lips. “May I have this dance?”
Loving him for all he did for me was an understatement. But, at the same time, I struggled with what I had to give back to him. He was constantly coming up with new things to do and never left anything to chance.
Perhaps I should plan a little rendezvous of my own?
As he held me in his arms and we danced to the amazing vocals of Denorah’s jazz repertoire, I’d never felt more loved or more worthy of his heart.
When a man goes out of his way to make a woman feel special, he’s making a non-verbal commitment to her soul. Those moments can replace the words “I Love You” anytime because, at the end of the day, it’s not the words that last—it’s the moments.
After an hour or so of dancing and champagne, we said our goodbyes to our musical guests, but I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. When I looked outside, our car service wasn’t visible. “Where’s our ride?”
“I sent him away. We’re staying upstairs for the night.”
“Isabella helped you, didn’t she?” Excitement had me covering my mouth to hide my giddy laughter.
“Yes. Seems she and her fireman friend met Denorah at a local bar and recommended her, so I had a rented piano delivered and the rest was easy.”
Taking my hand, he guided me to the secret door that led the apartment upstairs. I stepped on the first riser, but unable to restrain myself, I turned to him and pulled his head to mine, kissing him hard. I wanted him to know I was ready for wherever our night was taking us.
He took over, gripping the sides of my face with his palms, his fingers digging deep into my hair. Our kiss was fueled by passion and sexual greed. My lips parted in acceptance of his tongue, which danced with mine. His teeth bit at the tender pout of my lower lip, almost to a painful bite. I knew by the tone of his maneuvers the night was going to be more learning and exploring in the most delicate way.
When my tall, dark lover pushed me against the rise of the staircase, the bulge of his trousers was unmistakable. Shoving my dress up above my hips, he ripped my panties off, leaving the garter in place, and unfastened his buckle and pants to free his engorged erection.
Remembering his lesson on authority, I knew what I wanted and how I needed him to take me. Finding the words was no problem. “All I can think about right now is the fullness I feel when you’re inside me and how fantastic my orgasm is, tightening around you. Best of all, you don’t have to use a condom anymore.”
“Fuck yes, baby. I will, though, because I have yet to taste you today.”
God, what that man could do with his tongue in delightful torment to my lady parts didn’t have me arguing.
He pulled something out of his pocket and condom packages scattered on the stairs. Disregarding the bulk of them, he slipped a rubber over his shaft and lifted my legs to wrap around his core as he entered me.
The encounter was heated and fast paced, leaving him to climax in the middle of my own.
After a few moments to catch our breaths, he picked up my destroyed panties, shoved them in his pocket and ushered me up the stairs while he followed. I sensed his eyes on my ass, and the thought of what we’d just done and would surely do again thrilled me. I owned those stairs, and I’d never climb them again without thinking about how deliciously he’d entered me. No one had ever made me want so much more out of everything before.
But did I leave him wanting more?
The room was dimly lit, and more roses filled the space. A tray of cheeses, fruit, and more chilling champagne greeted us on the ottoman, but the main focus was the beautiful gray silk linen turned back on the bed in the center of the room. In the background, soft music played that I didn’t recognize. There seemed to be no end to discovering new things with him.
“Amazing.” I touched his lips. “All of this to prove to me…”
“I crave entangled moments with you. I’ll master plan them for the rest of our lives.” He dipped his head to mine, but his intended kiss was on the pulse point of my neck.
My heartbeats raced in response to the elevated anticipation of his next move.
He laid his dinner jacket across the back of the chair in the corner before slowly approaching me with his arms wide. Expecting him to undress me, I let my thoughts drift to the remaining lingerie I wore under my dress. Would he leave it on like last time or taunt me by removing it piece by piece?
He wrapped his arm tightly around my waist. “Do you have any requests, Ms. Peterson?” His voice was sultry and coy in my ear. I heard his deep inhale, as he took in my scent to satisfy his unspoken need.
“Yes, did you bring the oils and candles?” I leaned back to see his eyes.
The corner of his lips turned upwards. “Oils, yes. Candles, no. Anything else?”
A slight giggle of anticipation slipped from my lips. “Something with batteries?”
Lust blazed from his eyes. “Perhaps.”
“Then show me pleasure slowly. Tease me until I beg for mercy and don’t stop until you’re on fire and ready to fill me like you never have before.”
Ian didn’t answer me, nor did he need to. The color of his eyes changed to a dark hue of blue, and his lids
were heavy as if desire filled them almost to the point of closure. His long dark lashes shadowed his raw need, but the sexiest view in front of me was the redness of his full lips and his dimples bracketing his big smile.
My eyes trailed down his unbuttoned shirt to his open buckle and fly. He’d tucked his penis back into his black Calvin Klein briefs, but the fullness of his arousal betrayed him.
“Turn around,” he commanded. I did as he directed, spinning on the luxurious designer shoes he’d purchased for me.
A long finger trailed down the silkiness of my dress alongside my zipper. I wanted to scream, “Take it off, please, please,” but I bit my lower lip to silence my attempt to beg. I would wait out his taunting because it was what I’d asked for.
Forcing me to wait, he moved my hair aside and slid the dress’s zipper down until the coolness of the air prickled my exposed skin. With a push of his hand, the fabric slipped to the floor.
He gasped. “Divine.”
Divine wasn’t a complicated word, yet no one had ever used it to describe me. But the way it rolled off his tasty tongue and perched upon my ears made it a delicate keepsake I wanted to wrap up in a locket and wear forever.
Piece by piece of clothing and minute upon minute of time flew by until I was completely naked and every inch of my body had been explored, taunted, and teased by his hands or lips. A pile of clothing and lingerie lingered somewhere in the distance as his naked body hovered above mine. Twinkling eyes asked the question that did not need answering, for my body had already conveyed how much I yearned for the completion that was him.
Capable of many positions, I expected something wild and twisted like the sexual pretzel he’d made me in the past, but instead, he slowly entered me while his elbows were propped beside my face and his lips inches from mine. Tender penetration continued until he was fully inside me and harder than I ever remembered.
“Ah.” Groans escaped with my heated breaths.
“Whoa,” he uttered when I wrapped my legs around his back.
Complicated on 5th Avenue: 5th Avenue Romance Series, Book Two Page 2
