CHAPTER TWO
“Last night’s show was great.”
The shy, quiet voice grabbed Kerri’s attention. Smiling, she glanced up from braiding Tori’s hair and met the other woman’s gaze in the mirror in front of them. Unable to help herself, Kerri inwardly winced at the painful-looking bruise coloring the left side of Tori’s cheek and the cut splitting her bottom lip. And those were only the injuries that were visible. No doubt, Tori’s heart and soul were just as broken.
Tori Williams was a battered wife, and one of the many women who sought refuge at the Camenson Women’s Shelter three blocks from the radio station. Kerri had been visiting the shelter for the past eight months, volunteering her time a few days a week in whatever capacity her help was needed. Emotional support and a listening ear seemed to be the biggest necessity. So was just being a friend to the women who craved the kind of understanding only another female could offer.
Kerri had never been abused or battered, but when she was thirteen she’d witnessed a volatile relationship firsthand between her mother and a boyfriend. After months of enduring verbal and physical degradation that had escalated to more menacing threats, her mother had finally sought refuge at a women’s shelter with her two daughters because they’d had no other place to go.
Unfortunately, that violent relationship hadn’t stopped Sharon McCree’s behavior of hooking up with men who were bad for her and took advantage of her insecurities. But the terrifying situation had changed Kerri from a naive little girl to a young woman who found herself very cautious when it came to men. The incident had shaken her and cemented her belief that completely relying on a man left a woman too defenseless, vulnerable and needy. She’d seen the pattern with her mother, who was working on marriage number five in her ongoing quest to be supported financially, regardless of the emotional cost to herself or her daughters. Kerri’s older sister, Daphne, had followed in their mother’s footsteps and had married a wealthy older man who placed certain restrictions on his young wife—unrealistic restrictions, in Kerri’s opinion. Kerri could never understand how her sister accepted a loveless, childless marriage. It was a matter of security, Daphne had told her. But to Kerri, security came at too high a price—a loss of independence and self-reliance.
Kerri had been there once and the experience remained a strong reminder of how important it was for her to be true to herself and make her own way in life. After dating Paul for six months, she’d found herself entangled in a one-sided, dominating relationship that had nearly stripped her of her independence and confidence. Luckily she’d ended things with Paul and moved on after he’d delivered his ultimatum, but Kerri now knew how easily emotions and insecurities could get in the way of straight-thinking. Now she preferred being single and self-sufficient. Personally as well as professionally, she alone was in charge of the direction of her future.
Unfortunately some women, such as Tori, didn’t realize they had the choice and fortitude to make their futures better and brighter, instead of enduring a controlling marriage. This was the young woman’s third stay in the women’s shelter in the past six months, which led Kerri to believe it might not be her last. Not if she didn’t find the fortitude to divorce her abusive husband. And Tori didn’t have only herself to consider. She needed to think about the welfare of her five-year-old daughter, Janet, as well.
With an inward sigh, Kerri redirected her thoughts back to the present and Tori’s comment. “What were you doing up that late?” she chastised lightly as she continued to weave the young woman’s brunette hair in a tight braid. “You should have been in bed getting a good night’s rest.”
Her shoulder lifted in a small shrug. “I couldn’t sleep.” The angst in Tori’s hazel eyes spoke of nightmares that no doubt plagued her. “Besides, it was much more fun listening to you and Ian talk about what’s attractive in the opposite sex.”
If her evening show took Tori’s mind off her grief and problems for a few hours, then Kerri couldn’t deny her that pleasure. “The man is very opinionated, don’t you think?” she asked, to keep the easy flow of conversation going between the two of them.
“I like his opinions,” Tori said softly, a rare, impish smile turning up one corner of her mouth. “He seems like a really nice guy. And it’s obvious that he has a thing for you.”
Kerri secured the tip of the braid with an elastic band, intrigued by the woman’s remark. “You think so?”
She nodded. “We all do.” She nodded toward the other women in the shelter around them. “Me and the other girls can’t wait to hear you and Ian on the radio. He’s just so…well…”
“Sexy?” A blush stained Tori’s pale cheeks at Kerri’s accurate guess and she laughed. “The man does have a to-die-for voice, but it’s just a show, and my debates with Ian are pure entertainment.”
But even she had to admit that at times it felt like so much more than simple, playful fun. Amusing diversion or not, the man stoked a fire deep inside her and evoked a wellspring of need she had a hard time putting aside after her show ended and she headed home in the early morning hours…alone.
“Your conversations with Ian are different from those with your other callers,” Tori said as she stood, her expression thoughtful. “It’s like the two of you are dating on the air.”
“That’s certainly an interesting concept.” Kerri grinned as they headed into an adjoining room furnished with a few used couches, chairs and a big-screen TV that accommodated the women and kids that stayed at the shelter. Catching sight of Janet working on a puzzle in the kid’s corner, Kerri waggled her fingers at the little girl and received a smile and enthusiastic wave in return.
Tori cast Kerri a sidelong glance brimming with curiosity. “Do you ever wonder what Ian looks like, and if he’s really such a nice guy in person?”
Kerri had to be honest. “Yeah, I’ve wondered, but it’s safer this way, you know?”
Tori’s eyes widened. “Do you think he’s a stalker?”
“Oh, no. Not at all,” she quickly reassured Tori with a shake of her head.
Kerri instinctively knew that Ian’s brand of flirtation was harmless—the only danger he posed was to her sorely deprived libido and her overactive senses. She believed his interest was just as genuine as hers, but he’d never crossed any professional boundaries that would put her on the defensive or make her worry about his intentions.
“I just meant that Ian’s a nice fantasy,” Kerri clarified. “For me and hundreds of other women who find his voice and on-the-air personality so mesmerizing.” She sent the other woman a secret wink. “And there’s nothing wrong with fantasies. There’s no risk involved, and no expectation from either party, so it’s safe to let your imagination sweep you away.”
Tori tipped her head, her fingers playing over the end of the braid that fell over her shoulder. “So you don’t mind sharing him with thousands of listeners?”
“He’s not really mine,” Kerri said, taking her purse from one of the high cupboards in the living room. “And let’s face it, the guy might have a voice that could seduce a nun, but he’s probably a couch potato with a beer belly and receding hairline.”
Tori laughed, the sound a little hoarse from disuse. “Not in my fantasy, he doesn’t.”
“Exactly.” Not that a man’s looks mattered to Kerri, but reality just couldn’t be as good as the mental image she and every female listener had no doubt conjured of Ian. “In our minds, he can be whatever we want him to be. Personally, I’m thinking Ryan Reynolds.” She grinned.
The other woman’s eyes sparkled, and she whispered, “Chris Hemsworth for me.”
“Yum,” Kerri agreed, glad to see a shift in Tori since she’d arrived at the shelter a few hours ago. The other woman’s eyes were brighter now, her complexion not nearly as pale as it had been earlier. Her straightened posture replaced the stooped shoulders and the sense of dejection that had cloaked her. The changes were slight, but enough to make Kerri feel as though her visit today had served a purpose.
“Do you have to leave so soon?” Tori asked, a thread of disappointment in her voice.
She checked her watch and sent Tori a regretful look. “I’m afraid so. I got a call from my station manager this morning to attend a mandatory meeting at 3:00 p.m. sharp, and I’m already pushing it time-wise.” Dan hadn’t been forthcoming with details of the staff meeting on the phone, but the urgency in his voice led Kerri to believe it was very important. “I’ll be back this weekend.”
“Okay,” Tori said softly.
Kerri was hoping the other woman would have said, “I’ll be here,” but the words didn’t come. Kerri wasn’t completely surprised, suspecting Tori would return to her husband out of a sense of obligation and fear, and the vicious cycle would start all over again.
Kerri’s heart twisted at the disturbing thought, but she knew there was little she could do to sway the other woman’s decision if she was intent on leaving the protection of the shelter. Kerri could only hope that the resident counselors were able to convince Tori that she had the internal strength to make it on her own. She deserved so much better than a man who took his temper out on her.
And just in case Kerri didn’t see Tori next weekend, she pulled her into a gentle hug and said, “Take care of yourself, and Janet, too.”
“I will,” Tori promised, clinging to Kerri for a few extra seconds.
Kerri said a quick goodbye to the other women, the counselors and the children, then headed out into the sweltering afternoon heat and humidity. Sliding behind the wheel of her compact car that had driven her and her small bundle of belongings to Chicago three years ago and was still going strong, she drove the short distance to the station. Once there, she entered the run-down building and jogged up the five flights of stairs for her daily bit of exercise and grabbed a diet soda and bag of chips from the vending machine. Breathless, overheated, her skin damp with perspiration, she burst into Dan’s small office with thirty seconds to spare.
“Leave it to you to make a graceful entrance,” Dan, the station’s manager, drawled from where he sat behind his small metal desk.
She waved a hello to the rest of the crew who worked various shifts at the station and flashed a grin at her boss. “I’ve heard that you spank your tardy employees,” she teased right back. “And I don’t think that Carly would appreciate sharing that punishment with the rest of us.”
“Thank God I made it in time,” Ray, the early-evening disc jockey said meaningfully, which coaxed a round of amused chuckles from WTLK’s other radio personalities. They all knew Dan and Carly were dating, and ribald jokes and antics were common between the friendly and outgoing twenty- and thirty-somethings that worked at the station.
“Very funny, guys,” Dan replied with a very bosslike frown, though his tone was good-natured and he took their ribbing in stride.
Kerri sat down on a foldout chair, sighing as the chill from the metal seat seeped through the thin rayon material of her short sundress and offered a modicum of relief. True to form, the air-conditioning had seized up again. The bank of windows across one wall were wide open, and a fan swiveled back and forth from a filing cabinet in the corner, stirring the warm air and offering whatever respite it could. It wasn’t much with all the extra bodies in the room.
Setting her can of soda on the corner of Dan’s desk, Kerri ripped open her bag of chips and glanced around the room, noting the absence of Mike and Tim, WTLK’s afternoon duo who were currently on the air, and one other person. “What do you know, we’re missing… Carly.”
As if on cue, the station’s producer-program director arrived, her face flushed from the heat and her chin-length bob tumbling around her face in silky disarray. “Sorry I’m late. I got stuck in traffic.”
“That’s okay,” Kerri said as she nibbled on a chip, which kept her smirk in plain sight for Carly to see. “We’ve all noted your tardiness, and Dan will deal with you accordingly once the meeting is over.”
“Keep the screams and moans to a minimum so they don’t travel over the airwaves,” Steve added humorously from the other side of the room.
Carly quickly caught on to the gist of their teasing and cast her boyfriend a seductive look. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Dan uses the velvet whip instead of the leather one.”
As soon as Carly settled into the vacant seat next to Kerri, Jay—the most pragmatic one of all of them—directed the conversation toward business. “Now that we’re all here, what’s up, boss?”
Dan leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on top of his desk. His suddenly grave expression turned the playful atmosphere into a serious discussion. “I received a registered letter this morning from Virginia’s attorney. She’s selling the station.”
Gasps of surprise, groans of disbelief and outright curses echoed in the room. They’d all known the possibility of Virginia putting the station on the market existed, but the reality still caused tension, distress and even anger from some.
“What does this mean for us as employees?” Ray asked, his concern evident. He’d just recently gotten married and had a baby on the way.
Dan sighed, the sound rife with uncertainty. “Honestly, I have no idea. This sale will either make us or break us as a radio station, depending on who buys WTLK and what they plan to do with the program format. We all know we could go from talk radio one day to inspirational the next.” His gaze encompassed everyone in the room, but there were no reassurances in Dan’s eyes. He was stating cold, hard facts without sugarcoating the harsh possibilities. “If no one buys the station and Virginia decides to take it as a loss, then we’re all out a job. Hell, we might all be out a job even if she does sell the station and the new owners decide to bring in their own radio personalities.”
Kerri rubbed the sudden ache in her temple, hating like hell the thought of starting over yet again when she was just getting a foothold in the industry and getting her name out to Chicago’s listening public. But she’d find another DJ job if she had to. If that’s what the sale of the station came down to. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she’d started out fresh and new.
“I do have to say that our ratings are up,” Dan continued, putting whatever positive spin on their current predicament that he could. “And those ratings can be used as leverage to entice a buyer to keep the format and programming the way it is. Just as long as the ratings continue to climb and we draw in some big-name advertisers.”
Dan flipped through a stack of papers on his desk and glanced at Kerri. “While everyone is doing well in their time slots, your ratings have jumped the highest in the shortest amount of time, Kerri.”
She smiled, pleased with that information. “Great.”
A wry grin curved the corners of his mouth. “There’s been a definite increase in listeners since your mystery caller, Ian, has become a nightly guest on Heat Waves. There’s been a certain buzz around town about your talk show, and I’ve had advertisers calling wanting your time slot for their commercials, and that’s a very good thing.”
Kerri’s elation dwindled to a small frown. The knowledge that Ian was responsible for her increase in ratings took some of the wind out of her sails. She wanted her show to gain notoriety and popularity, but on her own merit and not because a sexy voice was stirring interest and mesmerizing her listeners. At the same time, she found it difficult to argue success in any form.
Dan addressed a few more questions and worries, doing his best to keep everyone’s panic to a minimum. For now, his main concern was to increase their ratings, and that meant making sure their programs and the issues they chose to talk about were stimulating enough to pique listener interest—and keep them coming back for more.
The way Kerri saw things, this was her opportunity to take things to the extreme and ride on that “buzz” Dan had mentioned earlier to create an even bigger sensation. If for some reason she found herself hitting the pavement for another job, she wanted to use the high ratings on her professional résumé to land something other than a graveyard shift at another station. She wanted, and needed, her name to be a familiar one.
Finished with the meeting, Dan dismissed the group and everyone shuffled out of his office. Carly hung back, and Kerri waited for the room to clear, too, then stood and pitched her empty can and chip bag in the trash next to Dan’s desk.
“Thanks for the heads-up on the station being put on the market,” she said to Dan, appreciating the honesty and open rapport he maintained with his employees. “It’s something none of us wanted to hear, but at least we know what to expect.”
He nodded in understanding. “With luck, it’ll be a smooth, easy transition for all of us with whoever buys the station.”
“If someone buys the station.”
“I’m trying to think positively,” he said, absently pushing his fingers through his already mussed dark brown hair. “And we’ll do whatever we can on our end to make the station and programming as enticing as possible. The bottom line is ratings. After that, all we can do is sit tight and wait and see what happens.”
Carly perched her hip on the corner of Dan’s desk and picked up the clipboard that she’d brought with her to the meeting. She thumbed through the first couple of pages, then glanced at Kerri. “By the way, I need a topic heading for tomorrow night’s show,” Carly said after checking her program outline. “And feel free to spice it up.” She waggled her brows.
“How do you feel about orgasms on the air?” Kerri asked, tossing out one of the ideas she had in mind. An idea that would no doubt be an interesting and sizzling discussion between her and Ian and generate listener reaction.
Carly grinned. “As long as it isn’t your own orgasm on the air so we don’t get slapped with an FCC fine, then I say go for it.”
“Orgasms it is.” Kerri slipped the thin strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. “You coming, Carly? I’ll walk with you downstairs.”
Carly shook her head. “Dan and I still have the issue of me being tardy to discuss, and it might take a while.” Sauntering over to the windows that overlooked the rest of the station, she closed the miniblinds so no one could look into the office. “But I will see you tonight.”
Kerri caught her friend’s drift real quick and grinned. “Hmm. Have fun, you two.” She closed the door after exiting.
As for her, she had tomorrow night’s program to outline for Heat Waves. And that meant browsing through the sexual manuals and books on intimate issues she had at home that gave her the verbal ammunition to back up her chosen topics and sensual discussions on-air.
She might not have street experience when it came to her more provocative subjects, but she was definitely book smart about sexual issues.
And that’s all she needed to tantalize her listeners.
* * *
“Good evening, Chicago. This is Kerri McCree and you’re listening to WTLK. With this heat we’ve been experiencing lately, can you imagine how residents felt during the Great Chicago Fire back in 1871? I’m burning up, how about you?” She released a long, slow breath that traveled over the airwaves like a sultry breeze. “Be sure to stick around for tonight’s show, because I’m betting things are going to get a whole lot hotter.”
At the sound of Kerri’s opening intro to her show, Ian stopped from grabbing the file folder with the contract he needed to review before attending a morning meeting, immediately transfixed by the woman who’d occupied his thoughts for the better part of the evening. He didn’t realize until that very moment that her familiar, feathery voice was exactly what he’d needed to hear after spending the past two and a half hours fending off the not-so-subtle advances of a female client who’d insisted on talking about her portfolio over dinner.
Jill Grayson’s request wasn’t an unusual one, and hooking up with her in the evening suited his own busy schedule just fine. He’d accepted her invitation thinking about the stocks, bonds and IRAs that he’d invested in with her recent divorce settlement. However, it hadn’t taken him long to realize that she was more interested in getting lucky with him than hearing about the status of her investment accounts.
Ian shook his head in disbelief. While he’d been discussing the decline in her high-risk stocks over appetizers, she’d been rubbing her bare foot up his pant leg and making an “mmm-mmm good” production of appreciating her oysters in the half shell. During dinner she’d insisted that he taste the different selections on her plate and fed him with her fork. She’d then slipped the utensil in her own mouth and licked her lips for good measure. After dessert and coffee, when he’d shown her a projected growth chart for her investments, she’d leaned close in the pretense of getting a better look, pressed her hand on his upper thigh and squeezed affectionately, then let her fingers brush the fly of his slacks. When his body didn’t so much as stir from the intimate caress, he’d gently removed her hand from under the table before she grew more brazen.
All the signals for a night of no-strings-attached sex had been evident. But none of Jill’s antics, not even her blatant “why don’t we finish this at my place” come-on could entice the enthusiasm Ian needed to follow through on a night of slaking her apparent lust. There was a time when he might have taken her up on her casual, one-night-stand offer and indulged in a mindless, unemotional release himself, but he’d taken one glance at his watch, noted the time of 9:30 p.m., and knew he had a hotter date waiting for him—one he refused to miss. Not even for uncomplicated sex, which suddenly held little appeal to him.
Much to Jill’s disappointment he’d turned down her overture and called it a night, claiming work as an excuse. It was a half-truth, though she clearly didn’t believe him. He did have a contract to review for a morning meeting, which had brought him back to his office to pick up the paperwork. Knowing he’d never make it back to his penthouse in time for Kerri’s show, he’d turned on the stereo on his credenza and decided to mix business with pleasure. He’d review the contract during commercials, and enjoy Kerri when she was on the air.
“Last night we talked about what men find sexy about women,” she said, recounting the details of her previous show. “What catches his interest, what turns him on, and what ultimately keeps him coming back for more. Tonight I thought we’d continue on that same topic, but take it one step further than the initial spark that usually leads to asking a woman out on a date.”
Intrigued as always about where her discussion was heading, Ian shrugged out of his suit coat, then sat down and settled into his soft leather executive chair. He loosened the knot of his tie to give himself extra breathing room, and let himself unwind and relax after the trying evening he’d had.
“I’ve often wondered, what should a guy expect at the end of a first date? A kiss? Sex? And what defines what will happen once the evening is over?” She let her questions linger seductively, giving her listeners time to formulate an answer of their own. “Guys, I’d love to get your take on this question. And women, how do you feel about putting out at the end of a date? What do you expect? The phone lines are open, so give me a call and tell me what you think.”
Kerri’s monologue segued into a reel of commercials. Taking advantage of the break, Ian opened the folder on his desk to peruse the paperwork, but his attempt to concentrate on the legal jargon in front of him proved futile. Instead, his mind swirled with other tempting thoughts…the most prominent of which was what it would be like to spend the evening with Kerri. On a date. Talking in person. Laughing with her and seeing her brown eyes sparkle with pleasure. Touching her and experiencing the flash of mutual desire between them without any barriers.
And where would all that sizzling chemistry lead? To a sweet kiss? A deeper embrace? Or a hot tumble in bed? Ian had his own ideas of what he’d want out of a first date with Kerri, and wondered if she’d be pleased or disappointed with the slow, provocative approach filtering through his mind. “This is Heat Waves on WTLK, and we’re back on the air with Rodney,” Kerri said, interrupting Ian’s private musings with her low, throaty voice. “What do you expect at the end of a date?”
“I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of guy,” he replied confidently. “A kiss is great, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that sex at the end of a date is better. If she’s giving out all the right sexual signals and being touchy-feely, then I’m definitely going to go for it.”
“That’s understandable,” Kerri agreed. “Would sex on the first date change the way you think about her?”
“If she’s hot to trot from the beginning of the evening, then yeah, it might make me wonder if she puts out for all the guys she dates,” Rodney admitted. “It might sound like a cliché, but I might label her as being easy.”
“And would that stop you from asking her out again?”
“Not if I was looking for a good time without strings.”
Kerri laughed, the husky sound warming Ian deep inside. “Your point has been duly noted, Rodney, though I think your ideals might be a bit dated. Women like sex just as much as men and shouldn’t be penalized for that. Thanks for your opinion.” She paused, connecting another caller. “Hello, Bruce. How do you feel about this issue?”
“Depends on the woman and the circumstance. I don’t go into the date with sex in mind, but no healthy red-blooded guy is going to refuse getting it on with a hot babe if it’s clear that’s where the date is heading.”
Ian exhaled a breath, thinking about his own evening and where it could have led—right into Jill Grayson’s bed. He had a healthy libido, that much was evident in the way Kerri aroused him with her breathy voice, and how she tempted and tantalized him when they were on the air together. Not to mention the mornings he woke up hard and aching from erotic dreams of fucking her.
He liked sex and enjoyed being with a woman, yet he’d just refused Jill’s very open invitation for a night of uncomplicated sex. He recognized that something within him had changed. After too many years of casual relationships that didn’t demand anything emotional from him, he was beginning to crave more. And it had all started with Kerri…but where would it end?
The answer to that question remained frustratingly elusive. He didn’t make a habit of obsessing over women, and he sure didn’t want Kerri to think of him as an overzealous fan, but there was something between them and he was certain she knew it and felt it, too.
He had no idea what would come of his time with Kerri. While he looked forward to their evenings together and their sexy banter, more and more he found himself wanting to take that leap to another level. A face-to-face meeting that would either dispel all the sensual fantasies filling his head, or lend credence to the heat and awareness rippling between them.
Maybe it was time he took that chance.
Putting aside the contract he needed to review, he let that appealing thought take hold and flourish as he continued to listen to her show.
“Well, we’ve heard from the men out there and what they expect at the end of a first date. The general consensus seems to be that there are naughty girls that guys sleep with, and good girls that you date and end the evening with a chaste kiss. We have Rachel on the line with us tonight. How do you feel about women being stereotyped?”
“It’s chauvinistic,” Rachel replied bluntly, clearly annoyed. “From what I’m hearing from your callers so far, a woman can’t have sex with a guy on a first date without getting a bad rap and being classified as easy, but a man can sleep around and be considered a stud.”
“Unfortunately, despite how far women have come in today’s society, it sounds like that old double standard is still alive and well in AmKerri.” Kerri sighed and connected the next caller. “What do you expect at the end of a first date, Adam?”
“I might be in the minority,” he began cautiously, “but the more I like a girl, the more I want to play it cool and give the relationship time to build. It’s all about respect.”
“That’s great to hear, Adam,” Kerri said, complimenting the man’s values. “Your viewpoint gives a lot of women hope that there are more guys like you out there who are willing to wait for just the right moment to take the relationship into the bedroom.”
Ian latched onto Kerri’s comment, catching the underlying note of wistfulness in her voice. Her longing was slight, but undeniably there, and it made him smile. She came across as sexually uninhibited on the air, but there was something about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on that led him to believe she was a woman who liked to be courted and slowly, gradually seduced. So many fascinating contradictions he wanted to explore and unravel.
“The time is ten-forty-five,” she said, wrapping up the first segment of her show. “We’ll be back with more Heat Waves after these messages.”
A musical score blended into an advertisement for a local dry cleaners. Turning down the radio behind him, Ian hit a button on the speakerphone on his desk, then punched in the station’s number. He received a busy signal on the first two tries, and made it through on the third.
“WTLK talk radio,” a familiar, upbeat feminine voice greeted Ian, her lilting tone drifting through the speaker on his phone. “Do you have a comment for tonight’s show?”
“Don’t I always, Carly?” he drawled, having long ago dispensed with formalities with her.
“You’re one hell of a punctual guy, Ian. We could set our clock to your call.”
Leaning back in his chair, he propped his shoes up on the corner of his desk. “I hope being prompt isn’t a bad thing.”
“Depends on what we’re referring to,” she said slyly. “Hang on for a few seconds and I’ll put you on the air with Kerri.”
She put him on hold, and as he waited for Kerri’s return to the airwaves, he glanced out the plate-glass windows in his office that overlooked the Board of Trade building and Willis Tower. The office building his mentor had bequeathed to him was a prime piece of real estate, the corner office he’d taken over a few years ago as CEO an executive’s dream—spacious, luxurious, with the best panoramic view on the entire floor.
David Winslow had given him so much, when there had been so many days when Ian felt as though he didn’t deserve any of the older man’s generosity and loyalty. David had trusted him with his daughter first and foremost, even before he’d handed over the reins of the investment firm to Ian, and he’d let the older man down in a way that had forever changed all of their lives. Yet despite the tragic event that had cut Audrey’s life short and had consumed Ian with guilt for so many years, the Winslow family still embraced him as one of their own, and Ian would always be grateful for their unconditional warmth and support.
“Hello, Ian,” Kerri greeted. Her sweet voice echoed through his speakerphone, pulling him from his darker thoughts. “Welcome to the show. Inquiring minds out there are dying to know, what do you expect at the end of a first date? A kiss? Sex? Or something in between?”
He clasped his hands behind his head, formulating his answer with her specifically in mind. “I like to take things slow, especially if it’s with a woman I really like. Don’t get me wrong, sex can be great, even on a first date, but once you cross that boundary it shifts the focus of everything to a physical relationship.” And he would know, considering he’d spent the past eight years doing just that.
“And that’s a bad thing?” she questioned, making it sound as though jumping right to sex was her personal preference, which he didn’t believe for a second.
“No,” he replied, mulling over the rest of his answer. “Gratuitous sex is easy and all about satiating physical needs, which is all good and fine if that’s what you’re after. But if your first date ends up in bed, before you really get to know the other person, it’s hard to backtrack to romance and seduction, which can be the best and most exciting part of dating.”
“Definite food for thought,” she murmured, her breathing a bit deeper than before. “So, how would you end the evening if you were on a date with a woman you really liked?”
Again, visions of her danced in his head, with her brilliant, golden-brown eyes and soft, parted lips. Lips he wanted to taste. A mouth he ached to devour. “I’d probably end the night with a kiss.”
“So, you’re a traditional kind of guy, then?”
Her tone was light and teasing, yet he suddenly felt very serious. Inspired by honesty and a deep-rooted longing he’d locked away when Audrey had died, he told the truth. “Yeah, I guess I am one of those traditional kind of guys.” He’d grown up without security and stability, and as an adult found himself holding tight to integrity and the kind of values that had gained him respect with colleagues and friends. He’d like to think women, Kerri specifically, found those traits appealing, as well.
He went on. “I like romance and the excitement of flirting, and I like to get to know a woman mentally before making that physical leap.”
He wanted to get to know her better. Her likes and dislikes. And what really turned her on. It had been way too long since a woman had been anything more than an evening or two of company, and he saw tonight’s discussion as an opportunity to take his interest in Kerri one level higher…but only if she was ready and willing to take that step, too.
He’d never know if he didn’t take that chance.
And he would, soon. Very soon.
He returned his attention to seducing her mind. “Holding back can really heat things up between a couple. And besides, kisses are the best kind of foreplay to actual sex. Especially since kisses aren’t limited to a woman’s mouth.”
A few extra heartbeats passed before she spoke. “What if there’s an explosive chemistry between you and your date on your first night out together and you want each other really bad?” she countered, raising the situational stakes. “Would you make an exception and go for it?”
He smiled and absently rubbed his thumb along his jaw and chin. “If I’m considering another date with her, then probably not. All the more reason to let things simmer and build. There’s a whole lot to be said for anticipation, you know.”
“Hmm. So, you’d still end the night with a kiss, even if the woman you were with made it clear she’d have sex with you?” Her question was infused with incredulity, more for her listeners’ benefit and stirring up controversy than any real disbelief on her part, he guessed.
“There are varying degrees of kisses, Kerri, and some can be just as good as having sex,” he said, his voice lowering to a husky pitch. “A chaste kiss on the cheek works if the date was just okay and there’s no chance of a second one. But if that chemistry is there—” like it is between us “—and the woman is willing—” like I imagine you would be “—I’d most definitely indulge in a hotter, deeper kiss. The kind that is intense and passionate and gets all your juices flowing. The kind that will make you restless with wanting and keeps you coming back for more.
“Where do you fall in the scheme of tonight’s topic, Kerri?” Ian asked curiously, turning the tables on her before she had a chance to respond to his comment or redirect the conversation. “Are you naughty or nice on a first date?”
“How about somewhere in between,” she murmured silkily.
He chuckled, her evasive answer not surprising him in the least. “So you’re a nice girl with bad-girl tendencies?”
“Yeah.” He detected a grin in her voice, and something much more personal. “Then again, it all depends on the guy and that chemistry we’ve been talking about.”
She was flirting with him. Just as he’d done with her moments earlier. Both of them fanning the flames of their attraction in a very public forum, and now he burned for her.
“Like our chemistry?” he dared, taking a huge risk in elevating their debate to a bold and intimate plateau. “How do you think an evening between you and me together would end? With a kiss or sex?”
He heard a swift intake of breath, which gave him a small measure of satisfaction. He had shocked the unshockable Ms. McCree.
“I…well…” She paused, obviously giving herself time to gather her composure. “That’s hard to say. We might hit it off well on the air, but there’s no telling what the chemistry would be like between us on a real-live date.”
He sat forward in his chair, recognizing her hedging for the diversion it was. And he was feeling spontaneous and wicked enough to issue her a challenge she wouldn’t be able to refuse very easily in front of her faithful listeners.
“You’ve got a valid point,” he acknowledged. “So why don’t you and I go out on a real date and find out how it would end?”
Instead of the sassy reply he’d expected, she put him on hold and made a not-so-smooth transition into a commercial for antacids.