Turning up the Heat

by Erika Wilde

  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 l
ate 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.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ian’s sixteenth-floor penthouse was like nothing Kerri had ever seen or had the opportunity to experience in her lifetime. Spacious, elegant and decorated with expensive, richly textured furnishings, his home held every luxury a person could ever want or wish for. Including a breathtaking, million-dollar view of Grant Park and Chicago Harbor from the floor-to-ceiling windows in his living room.

  The men she’d dated had never come close to Ian’s wealth and sophistication, and she was impressed with his success. And despite the independent, feminist attitude she had when it came to men, she couldn’t deny that a part of her liked being swept off her feet and being romanced by Ian. But for as much as she enjoyed Ian’s ability to make her feel special and cherished, she couldn’t allow herself to get used to his lavish attention and pampering, because their affair was as temporary as the sexy city nights campaign they were involved in.

  She continued to gaze at the exquisite scenery as she waited for Ian to return from the back part of the penthouse, where he’d disappeared minutes after they’d arrived at his place. He’d excused himself, told her to make herself comfortable while he changed, yet she hadn’t been able to sit for more than thirty seconds on his luxurious suede couch before jumping up and pacing to the window.

  She crossed her arms over her sensitive breasts and chewed on her thumbnail. Despite what happened in the limo and her bold request for Ian to bring her back to his place, she was glad for the brief reprieve. She was nervous all over again—this next step wasn’t just about pleasuring Ian as it had been in the limo, but an intimate act that would strip bare her body and soul.

  No matter that she talked the sexy talk on her show, she’d never been the promiscuous type and she didn’t take sex lightly. An affair with Ian wouldn’t equate to frivolous sex as she’d once believed. Instead, having gotten to know him on an intimate, personal level, and truly liking the man he was, she feared making love with him would encompass something far more emotional than a satisfying romp in bed. The kind of feelings she’d steadfastly avoided, yet Ian had an effortless way of bringing to the surface with his mere presence, his touch, a glance.

  One of the lamps behind her clicked off, leaving the light from the marbled entryway as the only source of illumination in the house. She turned around and found Ian wearing a pair of gray cotton sweat shorts, and nothing else, which drew her gaze to all the bare parts of his athletically toned body. And there was plenty about him to admire, as she’d learned earlier.

  Reining in her fascination, she smiled. “You really have done well for yourself,” she complimented, indicating with a wave of her hand the valuable artwork on the wall, the costly furnishings, and the home in which he lived.

  He shrugged modestly. “They’re just things, Kerri.”

  Things that equaled success, she thought, all too aware of the fact that she’d yet to reach that level of accomplishment in her own career, that sense of satisfaction of making it big and on her own. She was close, closer than she’d ever been before—thanks to Ian.

  He spread his arms wide. “What you’re looking at right now is the real Ian.”

  She looked her fill once more of the down-to-earth, unpretentious man standing before her—his broad chest, flat belly, muscular thighs. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was semi-aroused beneath those thin cotton shorts he wore. “I do have to say that the real Ian is very appealing.”

  An amused smile curved his lips. “I’m glad you think so.”

  A familiar shiver of awareness coursed down the length of her spine as he slowly approached her from across the room.

  He stopped a few feet away from her and glanced around the room, seemingly taking in everything through her eyes. “I’ll admit it’s nice to be able to buy anything I might want, but these objects and this house aren’t what’s important to me.” His warm gaze returned to hers. “I could be just as happy in a small house in the suburbs or even a modest apartment. I’m just very fortunate that I have a good job and that I’ve made wise investments and choices with my money and the people in my life.”

  Unlike her, who’d made unwise choices, especially when it came to men. And even though she acknowledged that Ian was nothing like Paul in so many ways, she knew from their earlier conversation about Audrey that he was a natural born caretaker, a man who believed in traditional values, including protecting and caring for those closest to him. The kind of man she swore she didn’t want or need in her life.

  He tipped his head, studying her too intently. “Having second thoughts about tonight and us?” he asked.

  He was so in tune to her, and she found it unnerving that he instinctively understood what she was thinking and feeling. She knew he’d respect her decision if she changed her mind, but she wanted this night with Ian, and she wasn’t giving it up for anything. Not even for a case of nerves. She wanted tantalizing, sexy memories to take away with her, to keep her warm at night and to replace all the old memories.

  Making that conscious decision, she acted on it. Reaching out, she skimmed the tips of her fingers over the smooth, warm surface of his chest, reveling in the flex of muscle beneath her hand. “Is there such a thing as a premature orgasm for a woman?” she asked coyly, and when he lifted a brow in confusion, she explained. “After what happened in the limousine and considering how turned on I still am, I don’t think I’m going to last very long once you strip me bare.”

  Heat simmered in his gaze, making his eyes glitter like rare emeralds. “It’s going to be a very long night, and since I haven’t even begun to do all the things I want to do to your body, I’m thinking we ought to take the edge off your first orgasm so you don’t come prematurely, since that seems to be your concern.” His voice was low and teasing, his grin filled with humor, but his intentions were serious, she realized, when he gently turned her around to face the window again. His long, blunt fingers toyed with the straps on her dress. “This way, we’ll be starting out even in the orgasm department before we get to the bedroom.”

  Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and desire flowed to every feminine nerve ending. With the lights off, she could see her reflection superimposed on the darkened glass, could feel the heat emanating from Ian standing behind her. “But I’m not naked,” she said in breathless anticipation, reminding him of the stipulation he’d set.

  “You’re not wearing any panties or a bra.” Pulling the top of her dress down, he released her full, aching breasts. He fondled the plump flesh in his large hands and raked her sensitive nipples with his thumbs. “I’d say that’s close enough for now.”

  Biting back a moan, she arched more fully into his touch. “You’re cheating?” she rasped.

  “If you’ll remember correctly, I made up that rule about being completely naked the next time I give you an orgasm,” he murmured huskily, then smoothed his palms leisurely downward to the hem of her dress. She closed her eyes and sighed as he inched the stretchy material up, until it bunched around her hips and she could feel the cool air in the room kiss her feverish, exposed skin and the moist curls between her thighs. “And because I made up the rule, it’s my prerogative to cheat, sweetheart.”

  She trembled, feeling that coiling tightness begin in her stomach and radiate outward, and wondered if she’d have an orgasm without him touching her at all. It was a novel thought, but at the moment she was so aroused she knew it was very possible.

  She attempted to turn toward him, but before she could execute the move he wrapped an arm around her waist, splayed a hand on her belly and drew her flush against his chest. His inflamed body scorched her, from her shoulders all the way down to her thighs. His erection pressed insistently against her bottom through his shorts, and she
quivered at the thought of him removing that thin barrier and taking her just as they were.

  But Ian had pure, seductive foreplay in mind. “I want you to watch this time, Kerri.” He nudged her legs apart with his knee, opening and preparing her for his caress. “Look in the window in front of us,” he said, his words effectively drawing her gaze to the lush, wanton display that was her, and the large hand he pressed high on her thigh that was sliding toward the heat and heart of her. “Watch me touching you and your response to my touch.”

  Entranced by the eroticism and decadence of the act, she watched, and moaned in unadulterated ecstasy as his long fingers separated the dewy folds of her femininity and stroked the slick, swollen nub of flesh hidden there. Her head dropped back against his shoulder, and she gripped his thighs for support. Her hips jerked forward, encouraging his questing fingers, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more depth. Gradually he gave her all three, making her pant shamelessly and eliciting a liquid rush of desire that made him groan, long and loud.

  “God, you’re so wet, so hot,” he said, his voice a low rumble of sound that vibrated against her back while his lips and tongue found the soft hollow under her ear. “Let it go and come for me, Kerri.”

  That easily she did, welcoming the deep, intense, rippling contractions buffeting her body. With a high-pitched cry and his name on her lips, she let him know that he thrilled her like no other. Her knees buckled when it was over, and she was grateful for his hold on her or else she would have dropped to the floor.

  He removed his fingers and nuzzled the side of her neck. “There, now we can move this to the bedroom, without any worry that you’ll come prematurely.”

  Hearing the satisfaction in his tone, she laughed lightly. “Umm, I’m definitely more relaxed and less tense.”