She dabbled her fork in the apple beignet their server had delivered during their conversation. "You've obviously earned David's respect." She took a bite of the deep-fried dessert, and the warm, sugary pastry nearly melted in Erica's mouth.
"I'd like to think that I have." He dragged a piece of beignet through the raspberry sauce on his plate. "But the past few years I've been so single-minded and my days and nights have revolved around work, and financial portfolios, and my clients' needs. I didn't really know what was missing from my life until that night I turned on the radio and heard you on Heat Waves."
His voice, a low, lazy rumble of sound, caused her nerve endings to tingle with sensual awareness. She welcomed the shift between them, from serious to sexy and playful. "And what did you discover was missing?"
"Fun. The constant urge to be with a woman because I truly enjoyed her company." His gaze dropped to her lips, then slowly traveled over her bare shoulders, to the skimpy bodice of her dress, making her wish it was his hands on her instead. Finally, he lifted his eyes back to hers. "Real, hot sexual chemistry," he murmured intimately. "The kind that keeps me up late at night and fills me with anticipation during the day."
The kind that you and I generate together. She read the unspoken words in his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. Desire pooled in her belly, and lower. "I know exactly what you mean."
He leaned his forearms on the table, his eyes darkening to a bold, earthy shade of green – direct and all male. "So, what are we going to do about all this anticipation, sweetheart?"
A subtle challenge. A sexy dare. She wanted him to have fun. She wanted him to forget his painful past. She wanted to seduce him and be seduced – in wicked, erotic ways. She thought of all those condoms in her purse, and couldn't dismiss the aching, burning need to make love to him that had consumed her for far too long. She inhaled deeply, prepared to make her intentions known.
"We agreed to take our affair to the extreme and have a good time with each other for as long as it lasts," she said with a sultry smile. "I think tonight's the perfect time to make good on that promise."
*
“DO YOU THINK WE HAVE sufficient material to report back Monday night about our first sexy city night date?" Ian asked Erica once they were sequestered in the back of the limousine again. "You can tell your listeners how I wined and dined you, and just how romantic a place Everest is for dinner."
"You definitely get a ten for your choice of restaurant, but our date isn't over yet." She glanced at her watch, then slanted him a very seductive look that jump-started his libido. "It's only nine-thirty, and you know what a night owl I am, considering my hours at the station. We've got the rest of the night ahead of us and the possibilities are endless."
After her comment at the restaurant about making good on the promise of their affair, her insinuation was unmistakable. But still, Ian assumed nothing. He'd wait for her to make that first move toward a more intimate relationship and follow her lead.
He stretched his arm across the back of the leather seat and feathered the tips of his fingers along her bare shoulder. "What would you like to do now? We could head over to the Navy Pier and take a night cruise on the Odyssey."
"I'd like to keep you all to myself, I think." She moistened her bottom lip with her tongue and slid across the foot of space separating them, until her breasts brushed the side of his chest. "Could you tell the chauffeur to just drive, and maybe make it a bit more private back here?"
"Sure." He'd do anything for her, he realized. He'd grant her simplest request or greatest desire. And right now, it was apparent that she had the latter on her mind. Giving in to Erica's request, he asked the driver to head down the scenic highway of Lake Shore Drive
until he told him otherwise. Then Ian pressed the button that secured the partition between the driver and guests, cocooning them in the cool, spacious compartment, illuminated by the soft, buttery glow of the dim overhead light.
He settled back against the seat and smiled at Erica. "Your every wish is my command."
"That's good to hear." Gracefully, she moved over him, bracketing her hands against the back of the seat on either side of his head.
Surprised by the brazen move, he automatically spread his legs to accommodate her, and she positioned herself in front of him, resting both of her knees between his widened thighs. She'd yet to touch any part of his body, but he felt singed from head to toe.
He found himself eye level with her pert, full breasts, and her tight, hard nipples straining against the thin fabric of her dress. She dipped her head closer, and her thick, silky hair tumbled forward, spilling over her shoulders, beckoning to his angers. He caught a light, floral, feminine fragrance, and the combined effects caused an immediate tightening in his groin. He swallowed hard and kept his hands splayed flat on his taut thighs.
"You know, per your wish, I'm not quite as accessible as I could be," she said, her voice low and throaty, her lips so close to his he could almost taste their hot cinnamon flavor. She tipped her head, the shadowed lighting playing across the guileless expression on her face. "Do you think you could, um, remove my panties, please?"
Her polite tone, combined with her courteous request for a very provocative, highly arousing deed rendered him momentarily speechless. It was the last thing he'd expected her to ask, and he gave her extra credit for the shock value of her outrageous invitation.
He rested his hands on the curve of her waist, belatedly realizing his mistake in touching her and making that connection that ripped through him like a bolt of electricity. He met her gaze, seeing the temptation glittering in her deep brown eyes.
A playful grin eased up the corners of his mouth. "If this is a shameless ploy for me to give you another orgasm, I meant what I said about you being completely naked. Unless you're willing to let me strip you naked here and now, which it would be my pleasure to do."
"No, the dress stays on." Her breathing deepened, and her lashes fell half-mast. "This is all for you. I just want to make myself as accessible as possible … for later."
Her excuse was meant to be pure torment, he knew. "And drive me crazy in the process," he growled.
Her soft, teasing laughter filled the intimate space around them. "You're on to me, Mr. Carlisle," she murmured silkily. "It would be nice to turn the tables on you for a change. Is it working?"
For all her outward display of confidence, he caught a faint tremor of uncertainty in her voice. He catered to those doubts, wanting to make sure she knew just how much she held him enthralled. "Yeah, it's working." He was completely and totally under her spell – a slave to her every whim.
"Then do it," she dared.
Unable to resist her, and wanting to give as much pleasure as he gained, he placed his hands on the sides of her stocking-clad legs and slowly, gradually, skimmed his palms upward along her thighs. He captured her gaze with his, holding her hostage with that heated stare as his hands slipped beneath the hem of her dress. Coasting higher still, he discovered the lacy band of the thigh-high stockings she wore, which gave way to a two-inch patch of soft, warm skin before he found the elastic band of her high-cut panties.
By the time he hooked his thumbs beneath the strip of silk hugging her slender hips and began the thrilling process of dragging the wispy scrap of material down her thighs, he was just as caught up in Erica's seduction as she seemed to be. Her breath caught erotically, and she bit her bottom lip against a wistful moan when he feathered his fingers along her flesh in a leisurely exploration – everywhere but where he knew she ached for his caress the most. Lashes fluttering closed, she tipped her head back and arched her body toward him, yet stopped shy of making that ultimate contact, teasing him and exciting him with her wanton behavior.
Waves of need gripped him, and his pulse beat wildly in his throat. Her panties caught around her knees, which were still perched on the edge of the seat. "Lift up, sweetheart," he said, and she obeyed, straightening her legs so he could push them down to her a
nkles and help her step out of them.
He stuffed the souvenir into his pants pocket, and she sighed hotly, damply, against his cheek. "Oh, wow, that was close."
Strangled laughter escaped him as he caught her meaning – that she'd nearly climaxed fully clothed yet again. Hell, he was damn close himself, again. "You really are a soft touch, Ms. McCree." Beneath that I'm-in-control facade she wore like armor, she was a woman who was learning all the wondrous pleasures her body had to offer. And he was reaping the benefits.
"Only with you," she admitted, and settled herself astride his lap, sliding forward so that her knees pressed against his hips. Knowing he'd go off like a rocket if she pressed any closer, he grabbed her waist and stopped her before she could execute that downward movement that would join them way too explicitly.
She smiled knowingly, and he couldn't resist looking down at their position. Her skirt was bunched high on her thighs, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings and about an inch of bare, smooth flesh. The thought of her wearing nothing beneath her dress spurred illicit images of unzipping his slacks, unleashing his fierce erection and sinking deep inside her welcoming warmth and letting her ride him to completion. It would be so incredibly easy to do just that, but he wanted her naked in a bed, his bed, the first time they made love and he joined their bodies. Not a quickie romp that would probably end with the first blazing stroke, considering how turned-on he was.
He shuddered, banished those forbidden thoughts to the far recesses of his mind for now, and held on to his restraint with everything inside him. Despite his vow not to touch her intimately, she had him curious where and how far she intended to take this sexy interlude of hers. She didn't take long to enlighten him.
She began unbuttoning his shirt, her cool fingers trailing along the heated skin she gradually revealed. "How do you feel about reenacting some of those photos that we saw in the magazine that depicted sexy city nights in Chicago?"
"What did you have in mind?" Stupid question, considering she was attempting to strip him naked.
A naughty twinkle appeared in her eyes. "A cross between the limo ride and the Ferris wheel."
He recalled the first picture in the limousine, of a woman straddling a man and the two indulging in kisses, caresses and seduction. Then the latter photo of a woman intending to pleasure her man with her hands and mouth.
Saying no was impossible. "I think I could be persuaded."
She proceeded to do just that, enticing him with a silky, hot, tongue-tangling kiss while finishing her task of unbuttoning his shirt, all the way down to the waistband of his pants. She tugged the tails free, spread the sides open and pushed it off his shoulders until the material caught around his biceps. She splayed her hands on his broad chest, and stared in fascination as she skimmed her delicate fingers down his lean torso to his flat belly. Every muscle in his body flexed in response to her exquisite, reverent exploration.
She lifted her gaze back up to his, her irises dark and needy and oh-so-sexy. "Pull down the straps of my dress, Ian," she whispered on a ragged breath.
His blood pumped hot and fierce. Like a man in the throes of an erotic dream, he obeyed her order. Grasping the thin straps holding up the top, he slowly pulled them down her arms, until the stretchy fabric gave way and her high, firm breasts swayed free. She moaned as the cool air caressed her newly exposed skin, and he stared in awe at the glorious bounty before him. Hunger for her gripped him, and his mouth watered for a taste. She was all soft swells and pale curves, her aureoles a deep, dark pink tipped with tight nipples begging to be pleasured by him.
With a finger tucked beneath his chin, she raised his gaze back to hers, her smile decadent and teasing. "No biting," she said, her comment reminiscent of last week's on-the-air conversation with the caller who'd gotten off on biting his partner's nipples, and Ian's response to the man's odd fetish. "But you may nibble, suck and lick, and curl your tongue around my nipple and tug gently."
Those were his words exactly, at the time meant to arouse her. Now, he was the one inflamed. A muscle near his jaw ticked from restraint. "Is that what you want?" He needed her to be absolutely sure.
She leaned forward, brushing the peaked crests along his lips. "Oh, yeah," she murmured.
He opened his mouth, laved her with his tongue from the underside of her breast all the way to her beaded nipple, and felt a shiver course through her. She shut her eyes on an unraveling moan and clutched his shoulders, urging him to continue, to deepen the contact and take all of her.
He wanted to savor, claim and possess. He did all three. His palms cupped her, kneaded her, learning what she liked best, what made her sigh wistfully, how a light touch caused her to whimper, and how a firm caress made her restless and tremble in anticipation.
She wriggled anxiously on his lap, and delved her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Ian … please." She thrust her breasts closer and locked her legs tighter against his hips.
Finally, he drew her into his mouth, feasting on the sweet taste of her. He swirled his tongue around the plump fullness, and grazed the puckered tip with the edge of his teeth. He nipped playfully, sensuously, first one breast and then the other, then soothed the gentle bites with a long, leisurely stroke of his soft, wet tongue, driving her steadily into that realm of pleasure where nothing existed but sensation and hot, feverish need.
He felt it, too – the build-up, the hunger, the wildness. Her hips undulated, seeking pressure and the hard ridge of his erection to ease her distress. Intensity pulsed and burned between them, nearly flaring out of control. She sought his mouth, and he kissed her, deep and soulful. Running his hands up her naked back, he hugged her close, crushing her breasts against his chest, feeling the fire of that ultimate contact and the rapid beating of both of their hearts.
Dragging his mouth from hers, he tucked her head against his neck, sucking air into his lungs in an attempt to calm his raging hormones, his rampant lust, and the sharp, aching desire pulsing in his groin. He didn't think he could withstand any more foreplay without exploding, but Erica had other ideas.
She nibbled on the lobe of his ear and tugged the sensitive flesh with her teeth to get his attention. And then she whispered huskily in his ear, "Wrap your fingers in my hair, Ian, and guide me where you want me. Show me what you want and what you like."
He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. She was making all his fantasies come true, taking their on-the-air debates and recalling everything he'd said he liked and wanted to do sexually and making them all reality.
Enthralled and too far gone to stop, he buried both hands in her silken hair and started with a kiss, because he just couldn't seem to get enough of the taste and texture of her mouth. From there he guided her damp, parted lips along his jaw, down his throat, and gradually lower to his chest. Her tongue flicked across his rigid nipple, and she nibbled and sucked and licked the same way he'd done to her. It felt incredible.
She scooted off his lap and settled to her knees on the floor between his spread legs, her breasts grazing the insides of his thighs on the way down. With his fingers still tangled in her thick mane, she blazed a trail of sizzling kisses along his torso, and he groaned when she dipped the soft, wet tip of her tongue into his navel. When she shimmied lower and pressed her open mouth against the hard length of him straining painfully against his slacks, he instinctively bucked upward and hissed "yes" before he could restrain his enthusiasm.
And then it was too late to retract his acquiescence, and he wasn't altogether sure he wanted to when he was suddenly feeling very greedy and she was busy unbuckling his thin leather belt, undoing the button on his pants, carefully but eagerly unzipping the fly. Without hesitation, she tugged the waistband of his briefs down and freed his hard, thick erection … then stared at him with a combination of guile, admiration and hunger that made him swell to enormous proportions.
She wrapped her slender fingers around his throbbing sex and squeezed and stroked, discovering the ripe and read
y heat of him, the satin-and-steel texture. A drop of moisture beaded on the tip of his penis, and she tentatively tasted his essence with her tongue – a long, slow, lazy lap that made his whole entire body tremble.
That was merely the beginning. She experimented with her lips, her fingers, teasing and tormenting him with languid caresses, discovering the sensitive ridge just beneath the swollen, velvety tip with her thumb, measuring his length and breadth with her palm and fingers until he was certain he'd go mad.
"Erica," he rasped, surprised he'd managed to utter even that one word when his vocal chords were strangled with a multitude of emotions – tenderness, caring and raw sexual craving.
It was enough for her to look up at him, her eyes soft with arousal, her smile pure sin, and he knew he was in big trouble. "I'm betting I can make you have an orgasm with a kiss," she said impudently, reversing the roles of their stairwell tryst and making him the captive this time – intent on evening the score between them.
Before he could do or say anything, her parted lips took his engorged shaft in an unbelievably deep, wet, erotic kiss. He watched in a red haze of desire as she suckled him in a way that made him wild for release, wild for her. He clutched fistfuls of her hair, gently urged her to a faster rhythm, and with a low growl of need he took what she offered – a forbidden pleasure of her own making.
His breathing grew harsh as his climax rushed up at him. Sensations, as exquisite as they were intense, rippled through him, tightening the muscles in his belly, his thighs. He uttered a warning and tried to pull her away, but she ignored his attempts. The silky, heated depths of her mouth stole his restraint, and then it was too late to do anything but ride the wave of release as it crashed over him. With a low, harsh groan, he gave himself over to her generous, giving gift and selfless ministrations.
Heat Waves Page 14
