by Erika Wilde
She thought about where she wanted to be in her career, that her success was just beginning to build but had yet to peak. “I have a whole lot further to go.”
“And I have no doubt you’ll reach your goals.”
Without really knowing her, he seemed to know her too well. Yes, she would attain her goals, without following in her mother’s footsteps and without allowing herself to be sidetracked by a man or another stifling relationship. While her mother continued to chase after men who were bad for her, it had only taken Kerri once to learn her lesson.
She hooked her thumb toward the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back if you’re still intent on waiting for me.”
He settled his shoulder against the wall and smiled. “I am.”
She headed into the restroom. As she was washing her hands she found herself searching her features in the bathroom mirror. Remnants of the arousal and excitement Ian had evoked in the studio were still visible. Her skin was pink and damp from the humidity, and her eyes still held a spark of sexual need. A need that coiled deep in her belly and demanded to be appeased.
She ran her brush through her hair and glossed her dry lips, her mind drifting back to her final debate with Ian. The one that had exposed her emotionally to her audience, and to the one man who’d played a big part in her fantasies for the past month. She’d never claimed to be an expert when it came to sex—she just enjoyed the discussions and her listeners’ reactions to her provocative topics and liked to make it sound as if she knew what she was talking about. So where had all that honesty with Ian come from? And had she risked her credibility on the air by being so open and candid and admitting that she wasn’t the orgasmic type?
She frowned at her reflection. Granted, she was incredibly turned on from all that sexy mind stuff Ian had instigated on the air, but it wasn’t as though she’d be able to rub her thighs together and magically climax—fully clothed. She was one of those women who needed direct finger stimulation, and lots of it. And the few guys she’d been with had quickly grown impatient with foreplay and moved on to the next level of intercourse, leaving her to handle the delicate matter of her own climax. Like her last caller, she had to hope that many of her female listeners had endured similar experiences and had appreciated her sincerity tonight.
With that thought heavy on her mind, she headed out of the restroom and found Ian right where she’d left him. In silence, he escorted her down the hallway and opened the door to the stairwell for her, which was dimly lit. Side by side, he followed her down the stairs, the quiet punctuated by the sound of her sandals clicking on each metal step.
Finally, he said, “Are you upset with me about tonight’s discussion?”
Was the man a mind reader? “Yes. No.” She rubbed her temple and sighed, glancing his way. His striking green eyes held a glimmer of worry, and she sought to reassure him. “I’m not upset, just a little frustrated with your pat views on women and orgasms. I might be in the minority, but I think a woman should accept responsibility for her own pleasure.”
“And her own orgasms, too?” he asked without missing a beat.
She shrugged as they rounded the corner to the next flight of stairs, her fingers gliding along the cool, metal handrail. She didn’t question how comfortable she felt with him, and how easy it was to have these kinds of intimate conversations with a man she’d just met after a month of on-the-air courtship. Nor did she think about just how much of her inexperience she might be revealing. Ian had never judged her before, and she wasn’t worried that he’d do so now.
“Since I seem to be the epitome of honesty tonight,” she said wryly, “let’s just say that it’s better for most women to rely on themselves for their own pleasure than ultimately being disappointed or having to fake it.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way, Kerri.” His voice was a low, rich murmur of certainty that made her body pulse with renewed awareness. “With the right guy you wouldn’t be disappointed, and he wouldn’t let you fake it. Not if he could help it.”
Ian sounded so confident. Not in a cocky, arrogant sort of way, but in that patient, persistent manner of his. “What if a woman just can’t have an orgasm with a man, not even manually?” she tossed out.
The smile that graced his lips was pure, intoxicating male. “Then I’m going to have to assume that he’s not giving you the attention you need.”
“I’m not talking about me,” she corrected him too quickly.
“Figure of speech,” he interjected smoothly, though there was a certain knowledge in his smoky gaze that seemed to see beyond her protest. “I really do believe that having and enjoying an orgasm is an attitude. You’ll only experience as much sexual pleasure as you allow yourself to feel.”
His arm brushed hers, a subtle, accidental caress that sent a flurry of sensation straight to her belly. She was feeling too much at the moment, heat and desire and need, but she certainly didn’t see all that restless anticipation resulting in a walking orgasm.
She shook her head and argued his point. “You think a woman can climax with just a kiss and no hands, no fingers and no tongue in intimate places. How unrealistic is that?”
“I think it’s optimistic,” he clarified.
She slanted him a sidelong glance, admiring his strong profile illuminated by the soft, golden light in the stairwell. “You sound so sure of yourself, Mr. Carlisle.”
“No, just sure of you, Ms. McCree.” An indulgent smile appeared on his lips. “I think I could make you have an orgasm without my hands or fingers touching you at all.”
She rolled her eyes dubiously. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
He stopped abruptly on the second-floor landing and gently grabbed her arm to stop her, as well. “Since you have so little faith in my ability to excite you and work you up to an orgasm, then why don’t we settle the issue here and now?”
The pulse in her throat fluttered. So did the one between her legs. “Because it’s late and I have a hot date with the sandman.”
“Not a good enough excuse.” With very little effort, he backed her up three steps until her spine pressed against the cool block wall, which was a welcome relief against her feverish skin. He propped his hands flat on the wall on either side of her shoulders, and while he wasn’t touching her physically in any way she suddenly felt scorched by the flame in his green eyes.
“What have you got to lose, Kerri?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive pitch. “Can you honestly tell me that you aren’t turned on by our discussion back in the studio? Can you deny you aren’t hot and wet and restless for your own release?”
Again, she couldn’t lie or refute his questions. And even though she couldn’t bring herself to voice the word no, her omission spoke for itself.
He tipped his head and blinked lazily, contradicting the power and warmth emanating from his large body. “What’s the harm in trying a little experiment?”
Nervous laughter sputtered out of her. “I’m not a guinea pig.”
“No, you’re a woman, thank goodness,” he said with amusement that quickly faded into a deep appreciation. “A very beautiful, sexy, desirable woman. And I want to give you something you’ve never experienced before.”
A bout of insecurities swarmed through her. What if she couldn’t have that climax he was so certain she’d be able to achieve with him? Would she be able to live with the embarrassment afterward? “Ian, this is ridiculous.” She attempted to duck beneath his arm.
He moved his palms lower, effectively trapping her. “No matter what ultimately happens, this is going to be fun,” he assured her. “I’ll keep my hands right where they are while we’re kissing. Worst-case scenario, you’ll be kissed senseless, and you’ll have proved me wrong and I’ll concede defeat—on the air and to your listeners, if that’s what you’d like.”
That provoked a smile out of her. “I like to gloat,” she warned him.
He chuckled deeply. “I can handle it. And you.”
She inhaled a breath, bringing her breasts inches away
from his chest. Close, but not close enough when she suddenly ached to feel that hard body of his pressed up against hers. “So, what’s the best-case scenario?”
A slow, audacious smile sparkled in his eyes and quickly spread across his full lips. “You’ll sleep like a baby tonight after I take the edge off of all the sexual tension stringing you tight.”
She lifted a teasing brow. “And you think I need you for that?”
“I’m beginning to think you don’t need a man for anything,” he said, too much understanding in his voice and flickering across his expression in the shadowed darkness. “But given the choice, wouldn’t you rather experience a real live orgasm with a warm, male body, rather than one all by yourself?”
She heard Carly’s voice in her head screaming, yes, yes, yes! and made her friend’s credo her own. She lifted her chin, unable to pass up the opportunity to indulge in this pleasurable experience, no matter if she didn’t reach the big O. “Give it your best shot.”
Finally given the permission he sought, he lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a light, warm, barely there kiss. A sweet, persuasive kiss. A kiss that was romantic, and tempting and frustrating for all he withheld. For all that she ached for.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way when she’d expected hot and wild from the get-go. Her lips parted on a breathy, needy moan, and still he took his time, seducing her mouth at his own leisure with slow, soft love bites that made her anxious to taste him deep inside. His teeth caught gently on her bottom lip, nibbling and suckling the plump flesh before his tongue stroked along the straight edge of her teeth. She leaned forward, chasing his mouth with her own to deepen the kiss, and he pulled back ever so slightly, maintaining ultimate control of their embrace.
True to his word, he didn’t caress or stroke, not with his hands, and not with his body, and she wished he’d never made the promise not to touch her. She burned for the slide of his big hands along her body. She craved the hard, solid weight of him against her breasts, belly and thighs. She wanted to slip her fingers through his thick hair, cup the back of his head, and take their kiss to the next intimate level since he seemed in no hurry to do so himself. Instead she flattened her palms against the wall behind her, determined to behave and not touch in return.
After what seemed like forever, his tongue finally sought hers, and she moaned her gratitude. She started to reach out to grasp his hips, to draw him near, and snatched her hands back when she’d realized what she’d nearly done.
She wouldn’t be the first to give in. Curling her fingers into tight fists, she rested her head against the block wall as his lips slid damply, silkily over hers. Then, suddenly, he exerted more pressure against her mouth, manipulating the movement of her head with his lips and chin to instigate a hot, openmouthed, tongue-tangling kiss she couldn’t have escaped.
Not that she wanted to. The man was an incredible, consummate kisser, and a connoisseur at erotic foreplay. A master at building taut expectancy. A skilled lover who had no qualms about using every sinful, seductive tactic to his advantage. He kissed her, over and over. Long, deep, breathless kisses. Minutes could have passed, or even an hour. Time lost meaning as pleasure consumed her.
He did things with his mouth and tongue that made her melt and quiver. She imagined that agile tongue stroking and tasting and exploring in other places, just as soft, just as thorough, just as wicked. Lapping along her breasts and flicking across her rigid nipples, gliding down her belly, slipping up the tender insides of her thighs…
The air in the stairwell suddenly seemed as feverish as hot steam. Her skin grew damp, her breathing ragged against his ravishing mouth. Hunger for him, for the all-too-elusive orgasm tingling within her, became a rapacious thing. Building. Throbbing. Pulsing. The heaviness between her thighs and the slick moisture gathering there intensified. She strained toward Ian; he eased away, avoiding any contact other than their mouths.
She nearly wept in frustration. Everything within her was coiled so tight and ready to burst that she was half tempted to touch herself and steal what he was withholding. Her fingers fluttered along the hem of her skirt, skimming her bare skin in a tantalizing, electrifying caress that sizzled its way up to the very heart of her. Refusing to pleasure herself when she wanted Ian to be the one to ease her need, she broke his no-touching rule and reached for him. Finding his belt loops, she gripped them with her fingers and pulled his hips to hers. Taken off guard, he swayed forward. She widened her stance, making room for his muscular thigh between hers, and once she had him there she squeezed tight, refusing to let him go. Her skirt bunched higher, and instinctively she arched into him, sealing their lower bodies. She knew he could probably feel how warm and damp she was through his jeans, and at the moment, she didn’t care.
Neither did he, it seemed.
He groaned deep in his throat, his mouth eating at hers in deep, drugging kisses. She felt the hard, impressive length of his erection nudging against her, branding her upper thigh and hip, but his body remained still and tense. She wasn’t so disciplined. She rubbed rhythmically against him, letting the pressure gather, reveling in the friction of denim and wet silk sliding erotically along slick, aroused flesh.
Her hands roamed around his sides to his back, then lower, desperate to get closer still. She clenched his buttocks with her fingers, rocked into him again and imagined his powerful body penetrating her, thrusting hard, filling that achy emptiness deep inside her…
Her orgasm hit hard and fast and more intense than any she could ever remember experiencing before. Ian muffled her scream with his kiss as she shuddered and her body flew apart in delicious abandon. She’d never known that an orgasm could be so incredibly orgasmic.
Ian wrenched his mouth from hers. “Yes,” he hissed in satisfaction, his breath hot and heavy in her ear as she floated back down to earth.
“Kerri,” he groaned, finally moving one of his hands from the wall and placing it on her quivering thigh. “I have to touch you.”
Despite his pact not to touch intimately, she couldn’t deny him, or herself, the pleasure. Pressing her hand over his much larger one, she dragged his palm upward, beneath her skirt, searing her skin and giving him the permission to do as he desired.
His intense, glittering gaze locked on her face, and her heart pumped fast and furiously. She bit her bottom lip when his fingers feathered across the feminine dampness that drenched her panties. Her breath caught in her throat as he slipped beneath the elastic band and caressed the slick folds of flesh still sensitive from her recent climax. One long finger slowly pushed into her tight channel, then two, and her body clutched at him greedily. His thumb swept over her clitoris, and her knees went weak.
His breathing grew harsh, heavy, the arousing sound echoing in the dim stairway. He shifted against her and rested his forearm at the side of her head, surrounding her with the male scent of him, and an inferno of heat.
“This time I want to watch,” he whispered.
This time she let him, savoring the experience and the lush sensations he evoked. Her blood roared through her veins and her entire body trembled as he discovered just the right spot and tempo and wove a magic spell she was helpless to resist. Her eyes rolled back in renewed ecstasy, her lips parted, and she moaned long and low. He took her over the crest, brought her back down gently, and placed the sweetest of kisses on her lips before pulling his hand away and straightening her skirt.
Ian waited patiently for Kerri’s senses to return and his own blood to cool. Gently, he brushed damp strands of hair away from her cheek just to maintain that intimate connection with her. He’d been with his share of women since Audrey’s death eight years ago, but none of those faceless lovers had ever inspired the kind of tenderness that Kerri did. With her, he wanted to give without expecting anything in return. And when she blinked up at him, a sated smile on her lips and her eyes hazy with the passion he’d given her, his heart constricted in his chest.
He ran his finger down the s
lope of her nose and grinned. “You cheated.”
Realizing just how shameless she’d been, color rose high in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “That no-touching rule didn’t apply to me,” she refuted, a sparkle of sass in her gaze. “You said you wouldn’t touch, and you didn’t, not the first time. And I was fully clothed when I had that orgasm. Doesn’t that count?”
He chuckled at her reasoning. “Yeah, I guess it does. So we both proved a point, then. It doesn’t matter how you achieve an orgasm, as long as you have a good time doing it and it feels good. And judging by your response, you had a good time and it felt good.”
“I’ll agree to that.” A glimmer of worry creased her brows. “Are you going to make me admit it on the air?”
He shook his head. “No, this is something I’d like to keep just between us.” While he enjoyed bantering with Kerri with her listeners, he saw no reason to share intimate details of their developing relationship.
Gratitude eased across her features, and she dragged a hand from his chest down to the front fly of his jeans, where he was still rock hard and throbbing. She cupped him, squeezed lightly, and he gritted his teeth to keep from thrusting against her palm.
“What about you?” she asked softly. “What happened tonight was pretty one-sided, and it doesn’t need to be.”
“I’ll be fine,” he lied. Fearing he’d explode in her hand if she didn’t stop stroking him, he gently grasped her wrist, pulled her touch away and wove his fingers with hers. “Tonight wasn’t about me, it was about you.” And all about showing her she could lose a bit of that control of hers, and not lose herself in the process.
In silence, he walked her to her car, tucked her safely into the vehicle and watched her pull out of the parking lot. He slipped behind the wheel of his Lexus and shifted to accommodate the fierce erection that had yet to ease. He released a harsh breath between his teeth, doubting that his stiff arousal would go away any time soon, not without a little help.
With the musky scent of Kerri’s release still clinging to his fingers, and the vision of her coming apart for him playing through his mind, he went home and took matters into his own hands.