Heat Waves

by Janelle Denison

  She smiled at his optimism. "Sure, if you're willing to dump a good amount of money into repairs and upgrades."

  He tipped his head. "Is the station in that bad of shape?"

  It was, in comparison to other local stations that had the kind of money to back up huge promotions and advertising. WTLK wasn't the most luxurious station she'd ever worked for, but the atmosphere was casual and fun, and her co-workers were like family. She hated the thought of all of them going their separate ways.

  "WTLK is holding its own, and we've had a few good hits with advertisers lately, which helps." She wasn't about to enlighten Ian to the fact that he was partially responsible for the increase in their on-air advertising. "But there's no telling how the sale of the station will affect our jobs. If it even sells."

  Not wanting to launch into a discussion about her possible unemployment, she motioned him farther down the hall, to a four-by-four plate-glass window that looked into the small studio where Jay, their early evening DJ, was wrapping up his segment. The other man sent her a wink and a smile.

  She waved back. "This booth is where we broadcast all the shows."

  Ian nodded, seemingly surprised by what he saw. "I have to admit, it's not quite what I expected. It's very … small."

  She shrugged, having long ago grown used to the confined space in which she worked. "I like to think of it as cozy." However, with Ian about to enter the room with her, she was certain cozy would quickly turn to cramped.

  Carly sauntered out of an office behind them, swiping a smudge of lipstick from the corner of her mouth, then giving the hem of her racy red dress a quick tug back into place. Dan followed behind, a satisfied smile on his face.

  Carly grinned when she caught sight of them. "Nice of the two of you to show up. I was beginning to think I was going to have to go on the air and tell your audience that you hadn't returned from your date yet and let them all wonder a bit longer how the evening ended."

  Erica rolled her eyes at her friend's exaggeration. "They'll find out soon enough, and it looks like you were too busy with your own date to worry about us."

  Carly fluffed her fingers through her mussed hair and cast a sly glance at her beau. "Just giving Dan a little incentive to wait up for me tonight, if you know what I mean."

  Dan's face actually flushed. Erica laughed while Ian followed their conversation with amusement. Minutes later, Jay came out of the booth as a reel of commercials that would segue into Erica's show played.

  "It's all yours, Erica," the other man said, then shook Ian's hand. "It's nice to meet the man behind the voice. You two behave in there."

  "Now, what fun is there in that?" Carly quipped. "We want you to spill all the naughty details, and then some." Grabbing Ian's arm, she ushered him into the studio. "Come on, let's get you settled and ready to go."

  By the time Carly made room for Ian next to Erica's side so they could share the microphone, she was feeling very unsettled. They were sitting so close she could feel the searing heat they generated together, could inhale the arousing, masculine scent of him. She was also in direct line with his smoldering, sensual stare, and was near enough for him to reach out and slide his fingers from her knee, to her thigh, to her hip, and up to her breasts, which had been full and taut and achy since their tryst in the car.

  That easily, he was sharing her personal space. That effortlessly, he'd invaded her professional haven. She felt physically shook up, even though he'd hadn't touched her.

  In fact, for the next hour as they laughed and joked and discussed their date on the air, he was a consummate gentleman – charming, sociable, and just flirtatious enough to keep their banter balanced with the kind of provocative teasing her listeners expected between them. She assured her audience that Ian was just as sexy as his voice, and Ian told them that their on-air chemistry was indeed just as hot in person. They both admitted that their evening had ended with a mutually pleasurable kiss. When pressured for more details, Ian swore he wasn't the kind of guy who would kiss and tell, and Erica appreciated that bit of chivalry.

  The question that was posed over and over again by callers was the same one Erica had yet to answer – would there be a second date? She kept her response vague, noncommittal and ended the segment with the promise that her listeners would be the first to know what transpired between her and Ian, and to tune in the following week to see what happened next.

  Ian removed his headset once they were off the air and slanted her a lazy, knowing grin. "That was a shameless hook for your listeners."

  She shrugged unapologetically, and her hair fluttered against her neck, damp from the heat and humidity. "There's nothing like a little anticipation to keep listeners on the edge of their seats. It keeps 'em coming back for more." And leaving her relationship with him dangling kept her from committing to anything between them until she sorted things through in her mind.

  He braced his hands on his thighs and stared at her for a long moment. "What about keeping me coming back for more?" he asked, his gaze a deep, intense shade of green. "Don't you think I need some kind of incentive to keep spending my nights with you, Erica?"

  He wanted an incentive. He could have been referring to anything from a second date, to another kiss, to illicit sex. Her mouth went dry at that last thought, and she lifted her water to her lips only to discover the bottle was empty. Damn. She stood, wanting to get a cup of ice from the machine down the hall before it was airtime again and she began her next segment of the show. And maybe, if Ian followed her, he'd go ahead and call it a night and catch the elevator from there.

  "You know, I didn't say no to another date." As far as incentives went, even she had to admit it was a pitiful one.

  "You didn't exactly say yes, either," he said wryly.

  She headed out of the studio with a plastic cup in hand, and he was right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, affecting a coy, teasing look. "Maybe I'm the type to play hard to get."

  He lifted a brow, a dangerous, challenging glimmer reflecting in his striking eyes. "Lucky for you, I'm the type to play along when it's something I want really bad."

  And he wanted her. That much he'd made abundantly, physically clear with that delicious kiss he'd planted on her in the car. Which she craved more of. Reaching the machine, she scooped a cupful of ice and popped a cube into her mouth to suck on and cool her feverish desires.

  "I'm nothing if not patient and persistent." He leaned against the wall and casually crossed his arms over his chest. While his stance was nonchalant, his body radiated strength and the determination he spoke of. "You should know that about me by now."

  She did know those traits about him. She was proof that he was a man who set his sights on something and pursued it to the end. Not only as a loyal listener, but as man interested in a woman on a sensual level. She had to admit it was a heady, thrilling sensation being the center of this man's attention and desires, just so long as their attraction didn't escalate beyond what she could control.

  Carly stuck her head out the door and glanced down the hall toward them. "Three minutes to orgasms," she announced blithely, then disappeared back inside.

  Erica cringed at her friend's impertinence, knowing she'd made that particular announcement solely for Ian's benefit. At the rate Carly was going with all the antics she'd pulled that evening, her friend was going to be lucky to live another day.

  She glanced back at Ian. A comical look crossed his features, matching the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

  "Her orgasms or yours?" he asked humorously.

  She crunched into the piece of ice. The cold chill bursting in her mouth was a direct, welcoming contrast to the heat pulsing through her body. "She's referring to tonight's topic."

  "Sounds … stimulating," he murmured.

  Her nipples peaked at his choice of word, which went hand in hand with orgasms. He stood there, waiting quietly, patiently, for an invitation to join her for the next segment of the show. To join her for an in-person deba
te. She thought about discussing such an intimate, erotic subject face-to-face with him. Without pretenses. Without barriers. Without anything but their honest desire for each other laid out in the open between them.

  Knowing how potent and sexually irresistible he was, did she even stand a chance against him? Yes, if she didn't let him grasp the upper hand during their debate. It was all about keeping him unbalanced, she realized. And that meant taking a few calculated personal risks. Letting him share her comfort zone, yet still remaining in control of the situation.

  She exhaled a deep, unraveling breath. She needed to do this, to prove to herself that her mother's weakness wasn't her own. That she could enjoy this man – and quite possibly a hot, sexy affair – without the threat of losing her identity and everything she'd worked so hard for since coming to Chicago. That she could handle Ian and the pleasure he promised without getting emotionally lost in the process. And what better way to discover if she possessed the ability to hold tight to the reins of control between them than to let him stay for the next segment?

  "So, how do you feel about orgasms?" she asked before she lost her nerve or changed her mind.

  A downright sinful grin curved his full lips. "I've always thought of them as one of life's little pleasures."

  "Care to debate that on the air?" she asked impudently.

  His eyes blazed with a charged excitement. "You don't have to ask me twice."

  ~ 5 ~

  "TONIGHT I THOUGHT WE’D step outside the boundaries and talk about something forbidden and fun … breathless, mind-blowing orgasms."

  Ian sat quietly beside Erica in the booth once again, listening as she tempted and tantalized her audience – as she tempted and tantalized him – with her sultry voice and the intriguing intro into tonight's topic.

  She glanced his way, a slow, secret smile curving her lips as she paused to let her listeners absorb the impact of her opening statement before she continued. "Ian has graciously decided to stay for tonight's show, so everything you hear this evening between us will be live and uncensored. And after our date earlier, there's no telling what might happen between us. The temperature is sure to rise, among other things."

  Judging by the way her gaze dropped briefly to his lap before sweeping upward again, there was no doubt in Ian's mind what "other things" she was referring to. Naughty girl.

  He quirked a brow at her sudden brazen display after she'd spent the better part of the evening keeping things between them reserved and low-key, not to mention leaving him dangling on a second date. Something had changed since their conversation out in the hallway. She'd gone from nearly ushering him out of the building after discussing their date on the air to inviting him to debate a very provocative subject on the air. There was a confidence and seductive quality about her that hadn't been evident earlier. And it wasn't just for her listeners' benefit, but for his, he was certain. She was openly flirting and testing her feminine wiles on him.

  Not that he minded being the recipient of all that sexy innuendo and attention. Not at all. He found himself fascinated with Erica's sudden metamorphosis, as well as the reasons behind the transformation from cautious woman to a bewitching vixen. For all her outward bravado, there was a bold determination glowing in the depth of her eyes that gave more credence to her sudden change in personality.

  She moistened her bottom lip with her tongue, and picked up where she'd left off. "Oral and manual stimulation are no doubt the best ways to climax, but let's go beyond that to specifics, to the very core of the pleasure that accompanies an orgasm." While her words where spoken into the microphone, she addressed him, her gaze locked on his. "What builds you to that breathtaking, explosive release? What do you do for your partner that makes him or her come apart for you? What are your best techniques, and what do you expect in return? The phone lines are open, so let's have fun."

  He grinned at Erica, letting her know with that wholly masculine gesture that he most definitely planned to have fun – with the subject matter she'd introduced, and with her. If she was going to be so daring and shameless, then he'd follow her lead and let her take this on-the-air seduction as far as she wanted it to go. Of course they had to behave to some extent considering they weren't completely alone, but there were countless ways to entice without any physical contact at all.

  Erica's computer monitor flickered with information fed in by Carly. Erica pressed a button on the console in front of her and connected one of the phone lines.

  "Hi, Richard, you're on the air with Heat Waves. Would you like to share your opinion on giving and receiving orgasms and what you like best?"

  "Yeah … it sends me over the edge when I bite my partner's nipples, tug real hard, and she claws at my back in that awesome mixture of pleasure and pain," he said, his voice as rough as the visual image his comment projected.

  Erica grimaced and pressed her palms to her breasts as if to protect them. Looking at Ian with an appalled expression, she silently mouthed the word "Ouch."

  He bit back a chuckle, in complete agreement with her. He leaned toward the microphone to add his point of view to Richard's nipple fetish. "I can't say I'm a biter … but I do like to nibble, and suck, and lick. I love the feel of a soft, feminine breast in my hand, and there's something highly erotic about curling my tongue around a taut nipple and tugging gently."

  Erica's breathing seemed to deepen, and when her hands finally fell away from her chest he noticed her breasts were full and tight and aroused … just the way he wanted her.

  "Hey, different strokes for different folks," Richard said jovially. "I guess I just like my strokes hard and fast and a bit on the kinky side to get that adrenaline rush going, you know?"

  Ian knew all about adrenaline rushes … he only had to glance at the woman sitting inches away from him for his heart rate to accelerate and his blood to pulse in his groin. "And I prefer my strokes slow and easy to prolong the pleasure."

  Face flushed, Erica thanked Richard and moved on to the next caller. "Welcome to the show, Cooper. What ultimately brings you to climax?"

  "The combination of being enveloped in heat, slick moisture, and tight pressure at the point when I'm first entering a woman sends me straight into orbit."

  "Oh, yeah," Ian murmured in male camaraderie.

  Erica shot him a curious look. "For you, too?"

  "What can I say." He shrugged and grinned recklessly. "That first thrust can be pure, unadulterated ecstasy."

  "So you like quickies, then?"

  "I didn't say that, and neither did Cooper," he corrected her smoothly. "When a guy is as hard as a rock and wildly turned on, every nerve ending seems to he centered there," he said, gesturing to his lap, where his own nerve endings had him in a state of semi-arousal.

  "My listeners can't see you, Ian," she said, her eyes dancing with a teasing light. "So try to be more specific with your descriptions. Centered, where?" she prompted, displaying more of that impudence of hers.

  "At his erection," he stated bluntly. "And the feeling of being wrapped in a woman's tight, snug body is the beginning of great sex, but not necessarily the end. Being a woman, don't you agree that it feels good to be filled and penetrated by that fullness when you're wet and excited and aching deep inside?"

  She appeared startled by his candidness, but quickly recovered. "Sure." She sounded too bright, too certain, and when she returned to the phone lines instead of launching into a debate, he wondered if that was her way of avoiding the truth – that she wasn't so certain at all. Intrigued by the notion, he studied her and all the subtle nuances that contradicted that on-the-air persona he'd known for more than a month. In the flesh, the woman was full of surprises. She had a sexy side he adored, a soft side that pulled at his emotions, and there was a hint of inexperience about her he wanted to cater to and explore.

  The problem was, he doubted she'd ever admit to possessing any of those endearing qualities. Or any kind of inexperience.

  "Hi, Kristin," she said, greeting the nex
t listener. "What do you do for your partner that makes him come apart for you?"

  "I've found that blow jobs are a guaranteed orgasm," she said with a deep-throated laugh. "Men are so easy that way, aren't they, Ian?"

  Erica lifted an inquiring brow his way, inviting him to respond to the other woman's flirtations – and equally interested to see just how easy he was.

  He scrubbed a hand along the late-night stubble on his jaw as he took a few extra seconds to think about his answer. He was, after all, a man, and fellatio was something no healthy, red-blooded male refused without a very good reason.

  "Well … no doubt about it, there's something incredibly exciting about a woman's soft, wet mouth closing around such a vulnerable part of a man's anatomy. But for me, that intimate act is so much more gratifying and intense when its a woman I feel a strong connection to," he said, his low voice vibrating with the slow simmer of desire. Desire for Erica to be that woman who performed such an erotic, intimate act.

  Tiny beads of perspiration formed on Erica's upper lip as she'd listened to his explanation. She reached for a piece of ice and slipped it into her mouth, tucking it against her cheek. It was warm in the studio, and the temperature continued to escalate with each successive call and response.

  After forty minutes of sex talk covering nearly every provocative aspect of orgasms possible, Erica broke for a desperately needed commercial.

  In the studio next to theirs, Carly fanned herself with a file folder. "Whew, you two are burning up the airwaves!"

  "We don't need any comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very much," Erica muttered, swiping a hand across her damp brow. She stabbed a button on her console, turning off the two-way speaker and tuning out her friend.

  "You okay?" Ian asked, concerned with her agitated behavior. She seemed tense and wound up, possibly from all their provocative talk and innuendo. And from the heat in the too small room and the heat sizzling between them.

  "I'm great," she said too quickly, too breathlessly. Then a hint of a devious smile canted the corner of her mouth. Dipping her fingers into her cup of ice, she grasped a small melted cube and trailed it down her arched neck to cool off, sighing in sensuous pleasure. "How about you?"