Heat Waves

by Janelle Denison

  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."

  Erica 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 he 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."

  Erica 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, raking in her outfit. "By the way, that's a fabulous dress. One that screams 'take me.'"

  "That's certainly reassuring." Erica 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."

  Erica 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, Erica."

  Erica 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 fight 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 Erica'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 br
a 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 Erica'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, Erica 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 Erica 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. Erica 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 Erica'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."

  Erica 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 Erica's tone. "I'm sorry."

  "Me, too," he said quietly.

  Compassion filled Erica'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 Erica 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."

  Erica 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 Erica, and wild sea bass for him. Once the server was assured that they had everything they needed, he left them alone again.

  Erica 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, Erica 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 Au
drey 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 Erica, 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."

  Erica 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, Erica 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."