Heat Waves

by Janelle Denison

"What have you got to lose, Erica?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive pitch. "Can you honestly tell me that you aren't turned on by our discussion back in the studio? Can you deny you aren't hot and wet and restless for your own release?"

  Again, she couldn't lie or refute his questions. And even though she couldn't bring herself to voice the word no, her omission spoke for itself.

  He tipped his head and blinked lazily, contradicting the power and warmth emanating from his large body. "What's the harm in trying a little experiment?"

  Nervous laughter sputtered out of her. "I'm not a guinea pig."

  "No, you're a woman, thank goodness," he said with amusement that quickly faded into a deep appreciation. "A very beautiful, sexy, desirable woman. And I want to give you something you've never experienced before."

  A bout of insecurities swarmed through her. What if she couldn't have that climax he was so certain she'd be able to achieve with him? Would she be able to live with the embarrassment afterward? "Ian, this is ridiculous." She attempted to duck beneath his arm.

  He moved his palms lower, effectively trapping her. "No matter what ultimately happens, this is going to be fun," he assured her. "I'll keep my hands right where they are while we're kissing. Worst-case scenario, you'll be kissed senseless, and you'll have proved me wrong and I'll concede defeat – on the air and to your listeners, if that's what you'd like."

  That provoked a smile out of her. "I like to gloat," she warned him.

  He chuckled deeply. "I can handle it. And you."

  She inhaled a breath, bringing her breasts inches away from his chest. Close, but not close enough when she suddenly ached to feel that hard body of his pressed up against hers. "So, what's the best-case scenario?"

  A slow, audacious smile sparkled in his eyes and quickly spread across his full lips. "You'll sleep like a baby tonight after I take the edge off of all the sexual tension stringing you tight."

  She lifted a teasing brow. "And you think I need you for that?"

  "I'm beginning to think you don't need a man for anything," he said, too much understanding in his voice and flickering across his expression in the shadowed darkness. "But given the choice, wouldn't you rather experience a real live orgasm with a warm, male body, rather than one all by yourself?"

  She heard Carly's voice in her head screaming, yes, yes, yes! and made her friend's credo her own. She lifted her chin, unable to pass up the opportunity to indulge in this pleasurable experience, no matter if she didn't reach the big O. "Give it your best shot."

  Finally given the permission he sought, he lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a light, warm, barely there kiss. A sweet, persuasive kiss. A kiss that was romantic, and tempting and frustrating for all he withheld. For all that she ached for.

  It wasn't supposed to be this way when she'd expected hot and wild from the get-go. Her lips parted on a breathy, needy moan, and still he took his time, seducing her mouth at his own leisure with slow, soft love bites that made her anxious to taste him deep inside. His teeth caught gently on her bottom lip, nibbling and suckling the plump flesh before his tongue stroked along the straight edge of her teeth. She leaned forward, chasing his mouth with her own to deepen the kiss, and he pulled back ever so slightly, maintaining ultimate control of their embrace.

  True to his word, he didn't caress or stroke, not with his hands, and not with his body, and she wished he'd never made the promise not to touch her. She burned for the slide of his big hands along her body. She craved the hard, solid weight of him against her breasts, belly and thighs. She wanted to slip her fingers through his thick hair, cup the back of his head, and take their kiss to the next intimate level since he seemed in no hurry to do so himself. Instead she flattened her palms against the wall behind her, determined to behave and not touch in return.

  After what seemed like forever, his tongue finally sought hers, and she moaned her gratitude. She started to reach out to grasp his hips, to draw him near, and snatched her hands back when she'd realized what she'd nearly done.

  She wouldn't be the first to give in. Curling her fingers into tight fists, she rested her head against the block wall as his lips slid damply, silkily over hers. Then, suddenly, he exerted more pressure against her mouth, manipulating the movement of her head with his lips and chin to instigate a hot, openmouthed, tongue-tangling kiss she couldn't have escaped.

  Not that she wanted to. The man was an incredible, consummate kisser, and a connoisseur at erotic foreplay. A master at building taut expectancy. A skilled lover who had no qualms about using every sinful, seductive tactic to his advantage. He kissed her, over and over. Long, deep, breathless kisses. Minutes could have passed, or even an hour. Time lost meaning as pleasure consumed her.

  He did things with his mouth and tongue that made her melt and quiver. She imagined that agile tongue stroking and tasting and exploring in other places, just as soft, just as thorough, just as wicked. Lapping along her breasts and flicking across her rigid nipples, gliding down her belly, slipping up the tender insides of her thighs…

  The air in the stairwell suddenly seemed as feverish as hot steam. Her skin grew damp, her breathing ragged against his ravishing mouth. Hunger for him, for the all-too-elusive orgasm tingling within her, became a rapacious thing. Building. Throbbing. Pulsing. The heaviness between her thighs and the slick moisture gathering there intensified. She strained toward Ian; he eased away, avoiding any contact other than their mouths.

  She nearly wept in frustration. Everything within her was coiled so tight and ready to burst that she was half tempted to touch herself and steal what he was withholding. Her fingers fluttered along the hem of her skirt, skimming her bare skin in a tantalizing, electrifying caress that sizzled its way up to the very heart of her. Refusing to pleasure herself when she wanted Ian to be the one to ease her need, she broke his no-touching rule and reached for him. Finding his belt loops, she gripped them with her fingers and pulled his hips to hers. Taken off guard, he swayed forward. She widened her stance, making room for his muscular thigh between hers, and once she had him there she squeezed tight, refusing to let him go. Her skirt bunched higher, and instinctively she arched into him, sealing their lower bodies. She knew he could probably feel how warm and damp she was through his jeans, and at the moment, she didn't care.

  Neither did he, it seemed.

  He groaned deep in his throat, his mouth eating at hers in deep, drugging kisses. She felt the hard, impressive length of his erection nudging against her, branding her upper thigh and hip, but his body remained still and tense. She wasn't so disciplined. She rubbed rhythmically against him, letting the pressure gather, reveling in the friction of denim and wet silk sliding erotically along slick, aroused flesh.

  Her hands roamed around his sides to his back, then lower, desperate to get closer still. She clenched his buttocks with her fingers, rocked into him again and imagined his powerful body penetrating her, thrusting hard, filling that achy emptiness deep inside her…

  Her orgasm hit hard and fast and more intense than any she could ever remember experiencing before. Ian muffled her scream with his kiss as she shuddered and her body flew apart in delicious abandon. She'd never known that an orgasm could be so incredibly orgasmic.

  Ian wrenched his mouth from hers. "Yes," he hissed in satisfaction, his breath hot and heavy in her ear as she floated back down to earth.

  "Erica," he groaned, finally moving one of his hands from the wall and placing it on her quivering thigh. "I have to touch you."

  Despite his pact not to touch intimately, she couldn't deny him, or herself, the pleasure. Pressing her hand over his much larger one, she dragged his palm upward, beneath her skirt, searing her skin and giving him the permission to do as he desired.

  His intense, glittering gaze locked on her face, and her heart pumped fast and furiously. She bit her bottom lip when his fingers feathered across the feminine dampness that drenched her panties. Her breath caught in her throat as he slipped beneath th
e elastic band and caressed the slick folds of flesh still sensitive from her recent climax. One long finger slowly pushed into her tight channel, then two, and her body clutched at him greedily. His thumb swept over her clitoris, and her knees went weak.

  His breathing grew harsh, heavy, the arousing sound echoing in the dim stairway. He shifted against her and rested his forearm at the side of her head, suffounding her with the male scent of him, and an inferno of heat.

  "This time I want to watch," he whispered.

  This time she let him, savoring the experience and the lush sensations he evoked. Her blood roared through her veins and her entire body trembled as he discovered just the right spot and tempo and wove a magic spell she was helpless to resist. Her eyes rolled back in renewed ecstasy, her lips parted, and she moaned long and low. He took her over the crest, brought her back down gently, and placed the sweetest of kisses on her lips before pulling his hand away and straightening her skirt.

  Ian waited patiently for Erica's senses to return and his own blood to cool. Gently, he brushed damp strands of hair away from her cheek just to maintain that intimate connection with her. He'd been with his share of women since Audrey's death eight years ago, but none of those faceless lovers had ever inspired the kind of tenderness that Erica did. With her, he wanted to give without expecting anything in return. And when she blinked up at him, a sated smile on her lips and her eyes hazy with the passion he'd given her, his heart constricted in his chest.

  He ran his finger down the slope of her nose and grinned. "You cheated."

  Realizing just how shameless she'd been, color rose high in her cheeks, but she didn't look away. "That no-touching rule didn't apply to me," she refuted, a sparkle of sass in her gaze. "You said you wouldn't touch, and you didn't, not the first time. And I was fully clothed when I had that orgasm. Doesn't that count?"

  He chuckled at her reasoning. "Yeah, I guess it does. So we both proved a point, then. It doesn't matter how you achieve an orgasm, as long as you have a good time doing it and it feels good. And judging by your response, you had a good time and it felt good."

  "I'll agree to that." A glimmer of worry creased her brows. "Are you going to make me admit it on the air?"

  He shook his head. "No, this is something I'd like to keep just between us." While he enjoyed bantering with Erica with her listeners, he saw no reason to share intimate details of their developing relationship.

  Gratitude eased across her features, and she dragged a hand from his chest down to the front fly of his jeans, where he was still rock hard and throbbing. She cupped him, squeezed lightly, and he gritted his teeth to keep from thrusting against her palm.

  "What about you?" she asked softly. "What happened tonight was pretty one-sided, and it doesn't need to be."

  "I'll be fine," he lied. Fearing he'd explode in her hand if she didn't stop stroking him, he gently grasped her wrist, pulled her touch away and wove his fingers with hers. "Tonight wasn't about me, it was about you." And all about showing her she could lose a bit of that control of hers, and not lose herself in the process.

  In silence, he walked her to her car, tucked her safely into the vehicle and watched her pull out of the parking lot. He slipped behind the wheel of his Lexus and shifted to accommodate the fierce erection that had yet to ease. He released a harsh breath between his teeth, doubting that his stiff arousal would go away any time soon, not without a little help.

  With the musky scent of Erica's release still clinging to his fingers, and the vision of her coming apart for him playing through his mind, he went home and took matters into his own hands.

  ~ 6 ~

  ERIKA SAT DOWN ON A wooden bench in the shade, smiling as Tori pushed her daughter, Janet, on one of the swings that was a part of the park's play structure. The young girl squealed in delight as she soared into the air, then caught her breath and demanded, "Higher, Mommy, higher!"

  Tori complied, and Erica watched the two of them enjoy the late-morning outing. Erica had promised she'd stop by the shelter that Saturday to visit, and she'd been pleased to find Tori still there, instead of having returned to her abusive husband as Erica had feared she'd do. As Tori had done in the past. Maybe, hopefully, this time would be different for the other woman.

  Instead of spending a few hours sitting around the shared residence, Erica had encouraged Tori to bring Janet to the park to play in the warm summer sun. Afterward, Erica planned to treat them to lunch and an ice cream dessert.

  After ten minutes of being pushed on the swing Janet decided she wanted to explore the wooden jungle gym, complete with bridges, slides and even a fortress. Tori lowered her to the ground, and Janet ran happily through the sandbox to the elaborate structure, climbed a rope ladder and found a friend to play with when she reached the platform. Tori made her way back to the bench and sat beside Erica, both of them keeping an eye on the little girl and her whereabouts at all times.

  "So, are you going to tell me how your date with Ian really ended last night?" Tori asked, anticipation lacing her soft voice.

  Erica smiled and glanced briefly at the young woman who'd become a friend over the past few months. She just wished different circumstances had brought them together. Though Tori was wearing sunglasses, the bruise on her cheek was still visible, now a pale yellow shade instead of the bright purple and blue it had been last week. The split on her bottom lip had healed, and overall Tori seemed in good spirits and rested, despite the ordeal she'd endured.

  "The date ended just as we said on the air." she told Tori, returning her gaze to Janet as she trudged across a wooden bridge with her new little friend tagging behind. "With a kiss."

  And two of the best orgasms of her life. Her heart beat faster at the mere thought of what had transpired in the stairwell – a physical surrender beyond anything she ever could have imagined. She wanted to tell herself their tryst was all about satiating lust and Ian proving a point, but neither did Ian ask her to reciprocate the pleasure, nor did he gloat when he had every reason to. Not only was the man as sexy as sin, he was incredibly sensitive and caring, and that was a dangerous combination to her emotional well-being.

  After completely turning her mind and body to mush with those climaxes, Ian had walked her to her car, kissed her softly on the lips and whispered "Have sweet dreams" in her ear before she'd driven away. Her dreams had been anything but wholesome and peaceful. They'd been hot, wanton and wicked, with Ian playing a starring role in her midnight fantasies and her waking up aching for the kind of seductive release he'd given her.

  She greedily wanted more of those delicious, addicting orgasms. She wanted Ian, and an affair was beginning to sound better and better to her independent way of thinking. They could enjoy their attraction off the air, and participate in mutual pleasure without the threat of emotional demands messing with her mind. She'd already told him that she wasn't looking for anything complicated or serious, and he'd seemed to accept her terms.

  It sounded like an easy solution, as long as she didn't find herself losing control of the situation, and her emotions. She already liked and respected Ian, and that deeply buried and vulnerable part of her feared he'd be an easy man to fall for if she allowed herself to get caught up in this sexy liaison of theirs. Which she wouldn't do. Maintaining ultimate control and calling the shots with Ian was the key. She hadn't spent the past three years building her confidence and a life of her own only to let a man steal it all away or waylay her personal goals.

  "Are you going out with Ian again?" Tori asked curiously.

  Erica grinned slyly. "Hmm, that seems to be the million-dollar question with my listeners, doesn't it?" she teased. "You're going to have to wait and see what happens, just like everyone else."

  Including herself. She'd held Ian off on accepting a second date, and he'd been an exemplary gentleman about her uncertainty – even when he could have coerced an unequivocal yes out of her last night when she'd been on the brink of her first or second orgasm. He'd held such power in his hand
s, and never once tried to take advantage of it, or her.

  "Well, I hope there is a second date," Tori said, her gaze trained on her daughter, whose bursts of girlish laughter brought a smile to her mother's lips. "Listening to the both of you on the air … well, it's like the two of you belong together. It gives me hope that maybe finding a guy like Ian for myself might be possible."

  Erica heard the quiver of longing in Tori's voice, and something else – hope? – that caught her attention. Not sure what the other woman was getting at, she reached out and gently laid her hand on her arm. "Tori, what do you mean by that?"

  Tori wrung her hands together in her lap. "I'm leaving my husband, Rick," she stated.

  Erica sucked in a startled breath, knowing how difficult that decision had to have been for Tori – walking away from the only security she'd ever known, even if that false sense of stability had come at a very steep physical price for her.

  "Are you sure?" she whispered, almost too afraid to hope that Tori was truly serious about ending things with her volatile husband.

  Chin held high, Tori nodded emphatically. "Yes, I'm sure."

  The determination and grit Tori displayed made Erica want to jump up and cheer for the young woman's courage. Erica was so relieved to see the change in Tori.

  "I swear I'm not going back this time," Tori said fiercely, her gaze on her daughter. "I can't. Not after the way he beat me up and threatened to go after Janet, too." Her voice broke, and it took her a moment to regain her composure. "I took out a restraining order against Rick. I don't want him anywhere near me or Janet."

  Tori's defensive actions were a huge step in the right direction, and Erica could only pray that Tori remained strong and didn't let herself be swayed by any pleas for forgiveness and empty promises from her temperamental husband. Paul had attempted the same tactic when Erica had broken off their relationship, and it had been difficult not to allow her emotions to be swayed. To remain strong and confident enough to start a new life on her own. But in the long run, it had been the best decision she'd ever made for herself.