A tempting smile teased her mouth as she inched her denim skirt high on her thighs to cool off, then pulled the stretchy material of her tank top to just beneath her breasts so the cold air hit her belly. Her nipples puckered into tight peaks, and he could see their dusky rose outline through the thin fabric.
She closed her eyes, and with loose tendrils of hair wisping around her face and her lips parted enticingly, she tipped her head back in a pose straight from a centerfold magazine. "Aah, that … feels … so good."
His blood heated, gripping him with a need so strong he knew this first time after a week apart would be a wild, frenzied joining. And while he was enjoying her provocative show, this seduction was supposed to be his by virtue of winning their wager, and he meant to make sure she knew that.
Tearing off his own shirt, he tossed it aside and came up behind her. Grasping her wrists, he lifted her hands and placed her flattened palms on the wall in front of them, forcing her to lean into the air conditioner and arch her back so that her bottom was on a perfect level with his hips and the bulge straining behind the fly of his jeans.
The position also left her no choice but to watch their images in the mirror, and his eyes burned and glittered like chips of green coal when they met hers. "Keep your hands on the wall … at all times," he ordered in a low, raspy tone.
Nuzzling the side of her neck with soft, suctioning kisses, he skimmed his hands down her raised arms to the hem of her tank top, which he pushed up around her chest so that her full breasts were bared. Then, he bunched her skirt up around her waist and shoved her panties down. The wispy scrap of pink silk caught and tangled around her knees and he left them there.
A moan slipped from her throat and she shifted restlessly against him as the now frigid air blew across her nipples, intimately kissed the damp curls between her thighs and chilled her exposed flesh.
He aligned the front of his body along the back of hers and moved his mouth up to her ear. Holding her hips in his hands, he slowly gyrated his hard length against her sweetly curved, naked bottom. "I've wanted you all week," he murmured hotly, eagerly, sharing one of his most illicit fantasies with her. "Every night when we talked on the air, I'd get off the phone and close my eyes and continue listening to your voice. I'd pretend you were in bed with me, that it was your hands on my aroused body, your tongue replacing the stroke of my thumb over the rigid tip of my cock, your tight body replacing my fist…"
Her breathing deepened, and she dampened her lips with her tongue. "Ian…"
He ignored her silent plea and unbuckled his belt, then unzipped the front placket of his jeans, finally releasing his burgeoning erection, which pulsed and throbbed despite the direct gust of cold air on his body. "Tell me you did the same thing when you got home at night," he coaxed in her ear. "Did you take me to bed with you, Erica?"
Her entire body shuddered, and her hands curled into fists against the wall. "Yes," she whispered.
He feathered his fingers over her stiff nipples, then plucked the distended tips, the play of his hands a burning contrast against her icy flesh. "Did you feel my mouth on your breasts, my teeth tugging on your nipples, and the stroke of my tongue between your thighs?"
"Yes." She nearly wept.
Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he withdrew one of the condoms he'd stashed there, dropped his billfold to the floor and sheathed his pulsing sex. In less than a minute he was back. "Tell me, Erica … did your fingers slip deep inside your body like I longed to do every night? As I'm aching to do right this very instant?" His touch coasted down her quivering belly and dipped low, finding her wet and ready and drenched with passion.
Her knees buckled and he caught her around the waist, holding her tight against him. "Yes," she admitted on a strangled groan, and widened her stance and tilted her hips, seeking to be filled.
Accepting her invitation and unable to wait any longer, he drove into her, plunging deep and to the hilt. She sucked in a breath, and he exhaled hard as his hips pumped instinctively until the rhythm of his penetrating strokes matched the frantic beat of his heart. Capturing one breast in his hand, he slipped the other between her thighs to finesse the swollen nub of flesh there. He turned his head and opened his mouth against her neck, and was overcome with the primitive urge to brand her. Finding the tender skin between shoulder and the nape of her neck, he bit, sharp enough to make her gasp and rear back, and hard enough to leave his mark on her.
And that's all it took for that wildness to ignite and flare out of control along with an essential hunger that spiraled from the depth of his soul. The muscles in his back and buttocks flexed with each powerful, upward thrust. He heard Erica's panting breath and looked in the mirror and witnessed the glaze of desire in her eyes. Saw the flush of ecstasy transforming her expression as searing pleasure crested. Felt the internal contractions sweep through her and clutch at him as she climaxed and cried his name as the force of her release ripped through her.
He followed right behind with his own fierce, explosive orgasm that left him completely wasted.
Seconds later he was still holding her, their bodies still joined, their skin damp with perspiration where he pressed against her from behind, despite the cool air blowing steadily from the air conditioner. "How about a cool shower?" he suggested.
"Umm, that sounds good," she said, though she seemed content to remain right where she was.
He met her gaze in the mirror and grinned sinfully. "Just be warned, this was just the beginning, and I'm not done with you."
She reached back and touched her fingertips to his jaw, a drowsy, seductive smile making an appearance. "I certainly hope not, she murmured. "You've got a whole week to make up for."
*
TYING OFF THE BELT OF her cotton robe, and grateful for the few minutes reprieve Ian had given her after their shower, Erica rubbed condensation from her bathroom mirror until she could see her reflection. Eyes a soft shade of brown stared back at her. Her skin was pink from the glow of delicious, satisfying lovemaking and from the cool shower she'd shared with Ian that had rapidly turned into a hot, steamy, erotic romp.
She felt sensually pampered and completely aware of erogenous zones she'd never knew existed. It was a wondrous feeling, one she never wanted to end. Reaching into a drawer for a comb to run through her freshly washed hair, she caught sight of the faint crescent shape of Ian's teeth marks on her neck and shivered in remembrance. The man was an incredibly physical, earthy lover, and even though they'd already made love twice, she was already anticipating what Ian had in store for the rest of the night. She was game for anything, knowing that she'd enjoy the encounter just as much as he.
She ran the comb through the damp strands of her hair, wondering what she was going to do once their time together was over and this constant craving she had for him didn't go away. Her need for him was beginning to overwhelm and frighten her, which she didn't need with all the other upheaval being dumped on her with the station and possible unemployment.
Not wanting to think about the possibility of leaving Ian, and determined to enjoy whatever time they spent together now, she headed back into her bedroom and found him over by the bookcase in the corner, the towel he'd dried off with knotted low on his hips. She winced when she realized he was perusing the section with her collection of sexual manuals and volumes on every kind of erotic, sensual topic imaginable.
Her heart thumped self-consciously in her chest, and she forced her feet to move forward while scrambling for an excuse for all those manuals other than the truth – that she'd never experienced really good sex, had never truly known what she'd been missing, until he'd introduced her to the various sensual pleasures of making love. She'd learned more from him during their sexy debates and being with him than any textbook ever could have taught her.
He glanced toward her with an open book in his hand, a slow smile unfurling. "Quite a library you have here."
She closed the distance between them. No lies. No excuses. There wa
s no reason for either after everything else they'd shared. "Would you believe I use them to come up with hot, sexy topics for the show?"
He lifted a dark brow. "Really?"
She drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly. "I'm not the sex expert I come across as on Heat Waves," she admitted.
"No?" Mock disbelief laced his tone.
She frowned. "You're making fun of me."
"Yeah, I'm teasing you." He winked at her, and she automatically forgave him. "Actually, you sound pretty convincing on the air, but that night when we were discussing orgasms in the stairwell was a dead giveaway that you weren't the vixen you wanted everyone to think you were."
She ducked her head in embarrassment. "Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention the sex manuals to anyone, especially my listeners."
Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he raised her gaze back to his. "My lips are sealed," he promised, his eyes glimmering with sincerity. "Besides, you won't be needing these books anymore."
She strolled to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, not certain what he meant. "No?"
"Nope." He looked all confidence, all male. "Now you've got me and I'll teach you anything and everything you need to know about sex."
She laughed lightly. "Oh, and aren't you the know-it-all?"
"Any complaints so far?" he challenged, approaching her, the book he'd been looking at still clutched in his hand.
She saw the intent in his gaze, and heat and quivering excitement blossomed within her. "No, no complaints."
"I didn't think so." He grinned cockily, then opened the Kama Sutra to a two-page spread of color photographs of lovers engaged in different sexual acts. "There's a few positions in this book that look interesting. And since I only have a few hours to take advantage of the wager I won, I want to make sure I get my time's worth."
She scooted back on the bed. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yep." He tugged the towel around his hips loose, let it drop to the carpet and joined her. "Starting with this one," he said, pointing to a photo of a woman sitting astride a man who was kneeling on the bed, his thighs spread to afford a deeper penetration into his partner. "I want you on top like that."
Already, he was completely aroused and ready for her, and it was a heady sensation to know she affected him that powerfully. He pushed the open book aside and stripped off her robe, then easily maneuvered her into that provocative position, and she gave herself over to him and his insatiable desires, knowing the pleasure would be completely mutual.
They tried many new positions, some lusty and adventurous, and others so impossible and silly that they'd laughed over the twisted, awkward positions they'd gotten themselves into. But during it all, she felt the closeness between them grow, felt the trust between them become so intertwined with her body and soul.
After all their attempts and a few orgasms for her, they ended up face-to-face, embraced in an intimate missionary position with her calves draped over the back of his thighs and him buried deep inside her. Fun and games aside, he made love to her slowly this time. And with each heavy glide of his body into hers he filled her so wholly, moved her so intensely and made her feel cherished, yet so incredibly vulnerable, too.
He framed her face in his hands, and their gazes locked as tightly as their bodies. And there in his caring green eyes she saw raw honesty, a wealth of promises and a tenderness she'd never before known.
Then, in the barest of whispers he told her, "I love you."
She trembled and found herself tumbling, drowning, and tried to claw her way back to the surface. He must have seen or sensed her alarm, because he immediately attempted to soothe her fears.
"You don't need to say anything in return, Erica," he murmured in the velvet darkness surrounding them. "I don't expect anything in return. The timing felt right and I just wanted you to know."
But it was too late. His declaration changed so much. It shifted the tenor of their lovemaking, the gentleness of his long, slow kisses, and the emotional intensity of her climax. Tears gathered in her eyes in the aftermath of her release.
But most of all, his love unlocked a part of her heart that had remained closed off for far too long.
~ 10 ~
"IT’S NICE TO FINALLY MEET the woman who's not only fascinated a good part of Chicago with her sultry talk show, but has also captured Ian's attention, as well."
Ian had known this conversation was coming from the moment he and Erica had arrived at the Winslows' more than an hour ago, and he'd seen Gayle's eyes light up with interest and curiosity. He was more surprised that Gayle had held off as long as she had in directly mentioning his relationship with Erica when he knew how straightforward the other woman could be.
"I do have to say the feeling is mutual," Erica replied smoothly, sincerely, then took a sip of her raspberry iced tea. They were all relaxing out on the terrace after a light lunch of croissant sandwiches and fresh fruit. "Now I see why Ian thinks of all of you as family."
"We can't imagine our lives without Ian in it." Eve Winslow beamed with pride, as if Ian was truly a blood relation. "Both Ian and Adam are like sons to us," she said of Gayle's husband, too. "Once you're a part of the Winslow family, there's no getting rid of us."
David echoed his wife's sentiment. "Besides, I need someone to golf with on Sundays, and these boys keep me young on the golf course," he joked.
"Don't let the old guy fool you, Erica," Ian added wryly. "David takes great pleasure in beating the pants off me and Adam."
Erica laughed, seemingly enjoying the easy camaraderie within the family.
David winked at her. "Like I said, it keeps me young."
Gayle's five-year-old daughter, Shelly, came up to Ian and without preamble climbed up on his lap and settled in to feed a bottle to her doll. The little girl was shy and quiet and a treasure. Ian cuddled her close, inhaling her soft, powdery scent, enjoying his role as uncle. He caught Erica watching him, and smiled at her.
"You seem to have a way with little girls," she commented.
He knew she was referring to Janet, and the way the two of them had bonded so easily. "I have a soft spot for kids in general." And he couldn't wait to have a family of his own one day. While it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that, he caught himself, knowing it was an insinuation Erica didn't need on top of everything else that had transpired between them in the past twenty-four hours.
After his spontaneous "I love you" last night she'd been more quiet than usual, but she hadn't withdrawn, and he took that as a positive sign. Today their time with the Winslows was going well, despite how nervous she'd been about meeting everyone. Seeing her interact with them and witnessing the undeniable approval from his surrogate family merely confirmed what he already knew … Erica was a perfect fit for him. Like him, she needed a family in her life, and he was more than willing to share his.
"So, what's next for you and Ian after this sexy city nights campaign the two of you are doing?" Gayle asked, her eyes bright and eager for more details.
"I don't think Ian and I have thought that far ahead," Erica replied, choosing her explanation carefully. She was keeping the sale of the station in mind, which could mean the end to their on-the-air association if WTLK was bought out by the new heavy-metal group.
They spent the next hour talking about Heat Waves and the success of their campaign, and how amused family and friends were to see Ian's picture on billboard ads. Erica never mentioned the fate of WTLK, but Ian knew it was a constant concern for her, as it was for him, especially since the possibility existed that she could leave Chicago to find another job that suited her goals and purpose.
Gayle cast a quick glance at her watch, then looked back at Erica. "The guys are going to head out for their golf game pretty soon. Would you like to join my mom and me for our Sunday afternoon ritual of shopping?"
Erica's gaze automatically sought his, and Ian gave her a smile that conveyed the choice was hers. If the idea appealed and she was comfortable with Eve and Gayl
e, then go. If she'd rather not, he'd take her back home.
He saw the uncertainties in her eyes turn to longing, and then Erica smiled at the two women who were waiting anxiously for her response. "Sure, I'd love to go."
Eve stood, warmth and caring etching her features. "I was hoping you'd say yes. We'll have such fun. It'll be just like when Gayle and Audrey and I used to go shopping and talk girl stuff."
With Eve's comment, Ian realized that the Winslows had wholeheartedly embraced Erica into the family. And by them accepting her so openly, he felt a sense of peace settle within him. The Winslows had always been genuine in their approval of him, but a part of him had wondered if that approval had hinged on his relationship with their daughter, who was now gone. As if his presence was their way of holding tight to Audrey's memory.
But those doubts and insecurities fled, as did the restlessness that had taken residence within him when Audrey had died. Audrey might have been the catalyst that had brought the Winslows into his life, but Erica was the woman who completed him.
And in that moment, he knew he'd do whatever it took to keep Erica in his life permanently.
*
ERICA ARRIVED AT GHIRARDELLI’S ice cream shop off of Michigan Avenue
ten minutes before she was supposed to meet with Carly, who'd called Erica early that afternoon at home and invited her out for a "celebratory" hot fudge sundae. The excitement in Carly's voice had been unmistakable, and she'd refused to give Erica so much as a hint of what they might be celebrating. If it involved chocolate, Erica figured it was big news. Her first guess was that her friend had finally gotten laid by Dan. And if that was the case, chocolate was definitely the way to honor the occasion.
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