CHAPTER SEVEN
“Take these, put them in your purse, and use them in good health.”
Kerri stared at the half-dozen or more small square packets Carly had pressed into her open palm. The eclectic assortment of prophylactics included colored, scented, lubricated, ribbed, extra-large and even flavored—orange, banana and cherry. While Kerri was grateful for Carly’s foresight, she found herself overwhelmed by the choices she held in her hand.
With a wry grin canting her lips, she met her friend’s bright-eyed gaze. “You stopped by my apartment to give me condoms?”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Carly shrugged impertinently as she sauntered past Kerri into her small living room, which connected to the kitchen and tiny breakfast alcove. “You’re the one with the hot date tonight with Ian, and I figured since I’m not getting any at the moment, you might as well.”
Shaking her head in bemusement at Carly’s way of thinking, Kerri closed the door after her friend and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. She had a half hour before Ian arrived to pick her up for dinner at a restaurant he’d selected for their first official sexy city night “date.”
“All I can say is that Dan must be worth the wait.”
“Yeah, he is.” Carly’s expression softened with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction. “We’ve done everything short of actual intercourse, and I have to tell you, my love life has never been so hot!”
“Mine, too,” Kerri admitted.
Carly gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment. “You and Ian have already done the deed?”
A rush of heat stained Kerri’s cheeks. Looking away, she opened the small black purse on her dinette table and stuffed the packets inside for safekeeping. “No, but like you and Dan, the foreplay has been great.” Verbal, mental and physical foreplay.
It had been almost a week since she and Ian had agreed to do the sexy city nights campaign…a week of pure seduction and erotic mind sex as he continued to call in to the show and they debated provocative issues on the air. One night had even ended in lusty phone sex when Ian had called her after she’d arrived home from work and they’d launched into a private discussion about fulfilling fantasies. He’d verbally fulfilled her secret desires that night, and left her aching for more.
Sighing at the pleasurable memory, she picked up her gold hoop earrings lying beside her purse and used the brass-framed mirror hanging next to the door to help guide them into her lobes. The air-conditioning unit situated below the decorative mirror was on medium, and the rush of cool air felt refreshing on her warm, bare skin, but also caused her nipples to pucker tight against the thin, stretch silk of her dress.
She wasn’t surprised. The littlest, most mundane things seemed to trigger a sensual, needy response from her lately. Even buying peaches, cherries and cucumbers at the store that afternoon had turned into an arousing experience for her! She constantly felt turned-on and sexual in a way that made her very conscious of her body, and all too aware of the fact that she and Ian had yet to consummate their affair.
The last five days had passed in a whirlwind of activity that had left little time for her and Ian to spend alone, without interruptions or being surrounded by other people. While Ian’s day hours at work conflicted with her nighttime schedule, they’d managed to meet in between for the photo shoot Carly had set up to get the billboard ads done, which had started going up around the city and were already generating a very enthusiastic response. They’d even squeezed in two live appearances—one at a local bookstore, and another at a coffeehouse—to promote the campaign and WTLK. All in all, the advertising was proving to be a huge success.
The time she and Ian had spent together during the week had been fun and relaxing, and the sexual tension and chemistry between them was as sizzling hot as ever. Any private time they’d managed to grab Ian had used to his advantage, weaving an alluring, seductive spell with his insatiable kisses and slow, breathless caresses that built the waves of anticipation toward a more physical, carnal joining. After enduring so much of Ian’s arousing foreplay—on and off the air—she was as primed as a woman could be, and tonight she planned to be the one to end the torment for both of them and take their relationship to its logical conclusion.
Carly slid into one of the two chairs at the table and sent her a chastising look. “From that naughty look on your face, it appears you’ve been holding out on me with Ian.”
Kerri laughed and shook herself from her intimate thoughts. “Actually, Ian’s the one holding out on me,” she said meaningfully. Retrieving her new cinnamon-flavored lip gloss from her purse, she applied a coat of the shimmery red glaze to her lips. “I swear we’ve yet to do the wild thing, but like you, I can’t really complain.” She felt thoroughly romanced and pursued, and it was truly a wonderful, unique feeling. One she planned to enjoy while it lasted.
Carly grinned. “With a little persuasion on your part, you’ll get lucky tonight…if that’s what you want.”
Oh, yeah, she wanted Ian, very badly. But she couldn’t deny that along with the anticipation and excitement of taking that giant leap to sleeping with him came a huge dose of anxiety.
“I’m nervous,” she confessed, meeting Carly’s gaze in the mirror. “It’s been a long time since I…well, since I’ve been with anyone that way.” Since she’d allowed a man so intimately close. And for all her sexy talk on Heat Waves, she didn’t want Ian to be disappointed if she wasn’t everything he expected her to be in bed.
Carly dismissed her concerns with a wave of her hand. “Sweetie, considering how the two of you literally sizzle when you’re together with your clothes on, I’m betting you set the sheets on fire when you get naked. And trust me when I say that going without sex for a long time tends to add kerosene to the flame once it’s ignited. Your biggest worry should be that you both don’t incinerate.”
Kerri laughed at her friend’s outrageous comment, which helped to ease some of the tension and insecurities swarming within her. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
Carly’s gaze skimmed down the length of her, taking in her outfit. “By the way, that’s a fabulous dress. One that screams ‘take me.’”
“That’s certainly reassuring.” Kerri tucked her lip gloss into her purse and glanced back at the mirror. She was far enough away to get a full-length view of herself. Per Ian’s request, she was wearing something slinky, sexy and accessible, and she was hopeful that he’d like what he saw. The little black dress she’d bought was held up by thin straps and made of a stretch silk fabric that contoured to her slender figure, from her braless breasts down to just above the knee where her legs, encased in smoky hued thigh-high stockings, extended. She wore strappy high heels that completed the ensemble and boosted her height a few inches.
All in all, she was very accessible.
Carly scrutinized her a bit longer. “I hope you’re wearing something sexy beneath that dress.”
Kerri fluffed her hair one more time, giving it a soft, tousled kind of look. “That’s for me to know, and Ian to find out.”
“Let’s hope he does.” Grinning, Carly stood. “Well, I’ve done my duty by delivering those condoms, it’s up to you to put them to good use.”
Recalling the variety Carly had given her, she smirked in return. “The hard part is going to be choosing which one to use first.”
Carly sashayed toward the door. “The strawberry ones smell great, and the ribbed ones are kinda fun—” She opened the door, gasped, and spun back around with a hand pressed to her heart. “Ohmigod, your Prince Charming is here and he’s picking you up in a limo! This guy is definitely a keeper, Kerri.”
Kerri didn’t want to think about the fact that she wouldn’t be keeping Ian for her very own. Not permanently, anyway. She swallowed the unexpected lump of discontent that rose in her throat and peered over her friend’s shoulder to get a glimpse for herself. Sure enough, an elegant black stretch limousine was parked at the curb—all the better for her to seduce him in, a little voice in her mind whispered.
Ian was making his way up the sidewalk to her apartment, dressed in black slacks and a long-sleeved black-and-gray printed shirt. Despite the heat and humidity that was still evident at six-thirty in the evening, he looked refreshed and energetic, and sophisticated and wealthy enough to clash with her modest neighborhood. It was a contrast she didn’t want to analyze too closely, but it wasn’t the first time she’d wondered about his lifestyle, especially when hers seemed so meager in comparison.
He saw her and smiled, and that’s all it took for her pulse to leap with thrilling excitement, and every other thought in her head to take flight and disappear. The man was sinfully gorgeous, breathtakingly sexy, and for now, tonight especially, he was all hers and she wouldn’t have to share him with anyone.
* * *
“Wow, the view up here is incredible!”
Ian sat back in his chair in the private dining area at Everest, one Chicago’s finest French restaurants. He smiled at Kerri’s genuine enthusiasm as she gazed in awe at the cityscape from the posh dining room located on the fortieth floor of the Chicago Stock Exchange.
She was the one who was incredible, he thought, taking in her natural, fair beauty backdropped by the sun setting in the distance and the simple but elegant decor of the restaurant. Her lips were parted in admiration of the scenery, and he caught the faint shimmer of red still evident on her bottom lip. He’d kissed off most of the candied gloss on the limousine ride over—a sweet “hello” kiss that had intensified into a seductive “I want you” kiss that had ended much too soon for either of them. She’d tasted like cinnamon and fire, and the hot flavor, coupled with her uninhibited response to him, had started a slow burn of desire that still flowed through his veins.
And then there was that sexy black dress she was wearing, which revealed a whole lot of bare skin for him to touch and caress, which he’d taken advantage of during their kiss. He’d discovered that she wasn’t wearing a bra when his hand had wandered to her breast, and knowing she was half-naked beneath that clingy outfit kept him in a state of semi-arousal.
Oh, yeah, she was incredible, and gorgeous, and sensually exciting. Yet her outward strength and confidence was underscored with a vulnerability he’d glimpsed when she’d shared her past relationship with him last week. There were so many facets to Kerri’s personality, more than he ever could have anticipated, and each layer fascinated him like no other woman ever had.
Shifting in his seat, he took another drink of his champagne just as their tuxedo-clad waiter delivered the first course of hors d’oeuvres.
Once the server left their table, Kerri dipped her spoon into her cauliflower fondant and took her first taste. She closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy as she savored the rich taste. “Oh, Ian,” she sighed as her lashes drifted open again and she smiled with unabashed pleasure. “This is absolutely heavenly.”
He smoothed his linen napkin on his lap and sampled his own appetizer, and found it just as delicious as Kerri claimed hers to be. “I wasn’t sure if you liked French cuisine, so I took a chance.”
“I’ll admit, when it comes to French cuisine my taste buds are limited to French fries, French toast, and French apple pie,” she joked, and ate another spoonful of her fondant. “I think you’ve spoiled me for the real thing.”
He chuckled, amused and completely beguiled by her and her appreciation of fine food. He’d wanted to take her someplace memorable, special and quiet, where they wouldn’t be mobbed by people who recognized their faces as the radio personalities on the billboard ads around the city. “Anytime you have a hankering for French cuisine you just let me know.”
She slanted him a curious look as she dabbed her napkin across her mouth. “Which brings me around to a question I’ve been dying to ask since I realized we’d be eating dinner at one of Chicago’s finest and most elegant restaurants. How were you able to get reservations here so last-minute, and a window seat in the private dining area, no less?”
“It pays to know the right people.” He winked at her.
She set her spoon on her bowl and quirked a blond brow his way. “And just who do you know that has that much clout?”
“David Winslow, who’s good friends with the manager here.” Ian had brought many clients here for business dinners due to David’s connection, but never a woman he’d dated. Kerri was the first.
She blinked lazily as she took a sip of the bubbly champagne in her fluted glass. “Winslow…” she repeated the name, her head cocked to the side. “Isn’t that the name of the investment firm where you work?”
“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Winslow Financial Investment.”
“And David is the owner?” she asked.
Their waiter stopped by their table again, this time clearing away their appetizer plates and replacing them with a bowl of beef consommé, then topped off their champagne. Ian waited until their server moved on to another table before answering Kerri’s question.
“David Winslow is the retired owner of the firm, though he’s remained a silent partner in the company. He made me partner and CEO and handed over the business to my care when he retired years ago, and I’ve been at the helm ever since.”
Kerri broke open a piece of warm bread and slathered it with butter. “No one in his family was interested in the investment business?”
Picking up his spoon, he stirred it through the savory broth, inhaling the sweet, nutty scent. “David had two daughters, and neither one followed in their father’s footsteps, not that he expected either of them to.”
“Had two daughters?” she questioned, catching his word choice.
“His oldest daughter, Gayle, is married and a stay-at-home mom. The Winslow’s youngest daughter, Audrey, died eight years ago.” He paused for a heartbeat, then decided to share a part of his past with her. “I was engaged to her.”
“Oh.” Surprise reflected in Kerri’s tone. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” he said quietly.
Compassion filled Kerri’s soft brown eyes as she met and held his gaze. “You still miss her?”
That wasn’t the reason why he’d apologized. Memories of Audrey still entered his mind at times, but it had been a while since those recollections were accompanied with that aching, empty loss that had consumed him the first few years after she’d died.
He tried to explain in a way that she’d understand. “I meant that I was sorry, too, for her death, and the circumstances surrounding it.”
She sipped another spoonful of her consommé, then asked, “Do you mind my asking what happened?”
“No, I don’t mind.” He’d never discussed the accident with anyone other than someone in the Winslow family, but he felt compelled to share those details with Kerri now. “We were coming home after having dinner together, and I was driving through an intersection. The light was green, but another car ran the red light coming the opposite way and rammed into the passenger side of the car at about forty miles per hour. The impact killed Audrey instantly. One minute she was laughing at something I was saying, and in the next she was gone.”
“Oh, Ian,” she whispered consolingly. “That’s awful.”
The whole experience now seemed like a distant dream, but the emotions attached to that night were still present, constricting his chest for all the “if only” scenarios he’d played through his mind over the years. If only they’d never gone out that night. If only they’d left the restaurant five minutes later. If only they’d taken another route home. There were a hundred regrets, but none changed the fact that Audrey had died and he’d walked away from the accident with only a few scratches and bruises.
Finished with his soup, he leaned back and went on. “It was especially hard for me because I felt responsible for Audrey. Not necessarily for her death, but to take care of her and keep her safe. David and Eve trusted me, and I felt as though I let them down, though they’ve never blamed me for her death.”
Kerri looked appalled that he could think such a thing. “Of course they wouldn’t. You couldn’t have anticipated what happened that night. No one could have.”
“I know that, but guilt has a way of eating at a person.” He smiled a bit sadly. “I’ve always felt that I owed the Winslows so much because of everything they’ve done for me, and yet I’m the one responsible, even indirectly, for their daughter’s death.”
The waiter interrupted their conversation as he smoothly and efficiently served them their main course—sautéed veal chop and mushrooms for Kerri, and wild sea bass for him. Once the server was assured that they had everything they needed, he left them alone again.
Kerri sliced into her tender veal chop, thinking about the private, personal story Ian had shared with her. He talked of the Winslows as an integral part of his life, but they obviously weren’t his direct family. She recalled the discussion they’d had that night at the station about his father leaving his mother when he’d been a toddler, his mother’s addiction to drugs, and Ian pretty much raising himself—before and after his mother’s overdose. Somewhere along the way, the Winslows had become important enough to Ian for him to believe he owed them somehow.
She was curious enough to ask the reason why, to know more about the man he’d become after living a life of poverty. “Why do you feel you owe the Winslows?”
“Because they accepted me so completely, and they became the family I never had,” he said without giving the question any lengthy thought.
While his answer was simply stated, Kerri detected a wealth of emotion attached to the comment. His debt to the Winslows was based on gratitude and resulted from being given the unconditional acceptance he’d obviously never received from his own mother. A deep-rooted part of her understood that craving for acceptance, which was something she’d struggled to find for herself, a sense of belonging she still felt as though she was searching for. She had her independence and freedom, but she’d yet to find total contentment. She’d always believed that ultimate fulfillment would come with success, so she was taken off guard by the pang of envy she felt toward Ian and his tight, familial relationship with the Winslows.
He took a bite of his sea bass, and continued to explain. “I was twenty when I met Audrey at the University of Chicago. We started dating, and when I met her parents for the first time I swear I’d never been so nervous in all my life.” He smiled across the table at Kerri, his handsome face alight with fond memories of that momentous occasion. “But for all my fears that I wasn’t good enough to date their daughter, they were warm and welcoming and gracious, despite the huge difference in our backgrounds. And when David Winslow discovered that I was majoring in economics and had a knack for playing the stock market and making wise investments, well, that pretty much cinched our relationship.”
Kerri laughed, the effects of the champagne and easy conversation making her feel relaxed and mellow. “I could imagine. He saw a future son-in-law to take over his investment firm.”
“Yeah, I suppose he did.” There was no conceit in his voice, just more appreciation. “When I graduated from college, I asked Audrey to marry me, she said yes, and her father’s way of approving of the marriage was to offer me a job at his firm. And for the first time in my life I seemed to have it all. A great job that I loved, stability and family ties. I had grand visions of settling down with Audrey, raising a family of my own, and giving my kids everything I grew up without. I still want that someday.”
She finished her meal as his last comment swirled through her mind, making her consider her own future goals, which didn’t include settling down and starting a family of her own. Not anytime soon, anyway. After her unpleasant ordeal with Paul, the whole idea of entangling herself in a committed relationship, marriage especially, still struck a certain amount of trepidation in her. While she’d made the vow to depend on no man for her own personal happiness as her mother and sister had spent their lives doing, Kerri feared that she’d be expected to give up everything she’d worked so hard to attain to be a wife, and a mother.
Once they were done with their main courses, Ian refilled their glasses with champagne, emptying the bottle as their waiter cleared their plates. “After Audrey died, I poured myself into my work, taking on big corporations and Chicago’s elite as clients and spending twelve or more hours a day at the office. Work became my life, and before I knew it, I had more money than I knew what to do with.” He shook his head in genuine amazement of the fact. “And then a few years ago David retired, and he offered me the position of CEO and partner.”
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 Kerri’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 fuck 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 Kerri 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 Kerri’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 Kerri. “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 fingers. 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 Kerri’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 ankles 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 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 Kerri 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 ready heat of him, the satin-and-steel texture. A drop of moisture beaded on the tip of his cock, 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.
“Kerri,” 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.
Minutes later, she settled in beside him again and whispered, “Take me back to your place and fuck me, please.”