She shared with her listeners how Ian had surprised her by picking her up in a limousine, and went on to describe their private, enchanting dinner at Everest overlooking the city. She described their after-dinner limo ride along scenic Lake Shore Drive
, but omitted the more intimate activities that had occurred in the back seat.
She smiled at Carly as her best friend gave her a I - know - there's - more - to - this - date - than - you're - letting - on kind of look. Erica merely shrugged, not admitting to anything but superficial details. "I do have to say that Ian has exceptional taste in restaurants, and I was completely wined and dined and swept off my feet. He really knows how to treat a woman and make her feel special. Now we'll open up the phone lines and take questions from listeners."
All the lines lit up and blinked wildly, and Erica glanced at her computer monitor to check the name of the first caller. "Thanks for listening to Heat Waves, Pete, and for following our sexy city nights campaign. What would you like to ask?"
"This question is for Ian," Pete replied. "I'm sure I'm not the only guy out here wondering this but … what turned you on the most about Erica during your date?"
Erica winced and shifted in her seat, knowing it was a hazard of her job as a radio personality that male admirers would fantasize about the woman behind the voice and wonder what she was really like. She remained quiet, just as curious as the rest of her audience as to Ian's reply.
"Everything about Erica excites me," he said, making her pulse pick up its tempo. "But if I had to narrow down my choices, I'd have to say it was the sexy black dress she wore, and her hot, cinnamon-flavored lip gloss that turned me on the most. I think I admitted on the air a while back that I'm attracted to a woman's mouth, and Erica has, by far, the most sensual lips I've ever had the pleasure of kissing."
Erica shivered deliciously at his compliment and tried to ignore the spiraling hunger and need building within her. Especially since she knew she'd be going home to a cold, lonely bed in the early hours of morning after her shift ended.
Stifling a discontented sigh, she introduced another caller, this time a woman, and waited for the next question.
"How did the date end?" Deborah asked eagerly.
Erica jumped in before Ian could answer. "With a kiss … or two, or three." She injected humor into her tone, and before the woman could request specifics, she hit line three. "Welcome to the show, James. What question is on your mind tonight?"
"Did Ian get lucky?"
"As lucky as a man can get," Ian replied smoothly, his response subtly sexy, but vague enough to protect their privacy, which she appreciated.
"Erica, you said on a previous show that a slow seduction turns you on," the next listener said. "How do you rate Ian in terms of your personal fantasy?"
Erica was amazed that the woman remembered her comment about wanting a slow seduction, but was pleased that her topics and remarks had made a lasting impact with her audience. "Let's just say that he's a master at mind sex and foreplay," she said seductively. "And he made sure I was completely satisfied."
"And vice versa," Ian added, his tone equally flirtatious.
Swallowing light laughter, and wishing he were there with her in person so she could see one of his warm, private smiles, she moved on to the next caller. "Do you have a question for us, Candace?"
"What's up for your next sexy city night date?"
Erica glanced toward Carly, who gave her a thumbs-up sign to let her know that Ian had agreed to the outing. "Ian is taking me to a Cubs game this Saturday at Wrigley Field. For those of you who might be attending the game, we'll have a booth set up beforehand to meet and greet listeners. We'll also be giving away free promotional items, so be sure to stop by and say hello."
"Who are the Cubs playing against?" Ian asked.
"The L.A. Dodgers, and since they're from my home state of California, I'm afraid I'm going to have to root for the underdog this time."
Ian chuckled, the deep, rich sound resonating through the airwaves. "Should make for an interesting game. We'll be rivals, since I'll be cheering for the Cubs."
She skimmed her tongue along her bottom lip and touched the perspiration gathering at the top swells of her breasts. "I take it you're up for a friendly wager in terms of the game?"
"Umm, most definitely," he murmured, a tantalizing insinuation lacing his masculine tone. "I'm hoping for a lot of home runs."
*
SATURDAY AFTERNOON couldn't come quickly enough for Ian. After spending the entire week without seeing Erica because of their busy, conflicting schedules, he was anxious to be with her … to watch her eyes light up when he talked to her, to hear her laughter over something silly they said or did, and to finally be within touching distance.
He'd started their day together by greeting her with a long, deep, passionate "hello" kiss when he'd picked her up at her apartment that afternoon. The kiss left them breathless and eager for a more physical joining. There had been no doubt that they both would have taken that embrace straight into the bedroom if it hadn't been for the fact that they had their scheduled appearance to attend. Ian considered suggesting a quickie to slake their immediate needs and hunger, but opted to build the sexual anticipation for later, instead.
Arriving at Wrigley Field, they held court in the small booth WTLK had set up outside the entrance to the stadium, and from the moment they made their presence known they were absolutely swamped with fans and listeners who wanted their autographs or a picture taken with the two of them. Others clamored for the bumper stickers, T-shirts and other promotional items they were handing out.
The people they met were enthusiastic and supportive. Most of them were avid listeners of Heat Waves and were thrilled to meet them both. And while last week's dinner engagement had been private and intimate, this date was sexy, playful fun for everyone to enjoy and be a part of.
Forty-five minutes into their appearance Erica excused herself and stepped away from the crowd for a moment. Her face was flushed from the heat and humidity, and her lips lacked their normal pink, glossy luster. Ian continued signing autographs and passing out trinkets while keeping an eye on Erica, just to make sure she was okay. He watched as she took a long drink from her bottled water and knew he was in big trouble when he found even that simple action stimulating and arousing.
Her lashes drifted shut as she drank, and the way she tipped her head back made her breasts more prominent. She wore a denim miniskirt and cotton tank top overlaid with a sheer, loose blouse, and the way the stretchy material contoured seamlessly to her firm, full breasts led him to believe she was braless.
He gritted his teeth when he realized he wasn't the only guy to notice the sensual display. He was eternally grateful when their obligation to the show's fans was over fifteen minutes later so he didn't have to share Erica with anyone else for the rest of the night. Once they left the booth and a crew took over to break down the stand, Ian ushered Erica to the refreshment bar. They ordered hot dogs, peanuts and sodas, then settled into their private seats on the mezzanine level to wait for the game to begin.
Erica swiped a hand across her damp brow, then dug into her purse for a barrette. "Wow, that was certainly hectic!" Smiling despite being overwhelmed by fans for the past hour, she gathered up the ends of her hair, twisted the strands into a loose knot and secured the mass on top of her head with the clip.
She'd exposed the slender column of her neck, moist with a thin sheen of perspiration, and he resisted the urge to caress that soft flesh with his fingertips and see that glimmer of arousal leap to life in her eyes. Another few hours and he'd have her alone and all to himself.
He returned her grin and handed her the large diet soda she'd ordered. "That's what happens when you become a celebrity."
"I'm far from being a celebrity," she said modestly, and accepted the hot dog she'd piled high with a little bit of everything from the condiment stand. "But it is nice to see the station get the recognition it deserves. Too bad it
probably won't make much difference in terms of Virginia keeping the station."
He cast her a curious glance. "What's up with that, anyway?"
She bit into her hot dog, chewed and swallowed. "Just between you and me, it looks like the station might get bought out by a group interested in a heavy-metal format." Her lips twisted with frustration and worry. "And if that happens, every one of us who now works for WTLK will be out a job."
"What are you going to do if the sale goes through?"
"I honestly don't know." She sighed, and when she met his gaze there was no denying the distress in the depth of her dark brown eyes. "Start sending out résumés, no doubt. I hate to see all the hard work from this campaign be for nothing, especially when we're starting to see an increase in ratings. We've even got big-name advertisers finally sitting up and taking notice of WTLK, and Virginia is just going to sell us off to the highest bidder, just to make a few bucks."
She ate another bite of her hot dog and took a long drink of her soda. "I hate to even consider unemployment right now, but a part of me knows it's inevitable, one way or another. At least I'll have the success of our campaign to put on my résumé. And I've been thinking … if I can't find a comparable position here in Chicago, then I might see what's available somewhere else, like Indianapolis."
Ian nearly choked on the portion of hotdog he'd been swallowing. Indiana? She was considering moving hundreds of miles away and starting over in a different state? His belly cramped with a slow-building panic, along with the urge to blurt out his feelings for her, which he knew she wasn't ready to hear. "I'm sure if anything happens to WTLK you won't have a hard time finding something here in Chicago."
"Thanks for your vote of confidence," she said with an indulgent smile, "but as I've learned in life, there are no guarantees, and no matter how much I might not like the thought of relocating, I have to keep an open mind and consider all my options."
Ian stared at Erica, seeing that strength and determination that made her the independent woman she was. No matter what, she would make it on her own. She'd proved that many times, and at the moment he was feeling helpless and fearful of ultimately losing her. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about her decision to leave, if that's what it came down to. He could only hope that what they had together counted for something and made her rethink her plans when the time came for her to reevaluate her life and goals.
"Enough about my woes," Erica said lightly, and wiped her mouth, then her fingers on a paper napkin. "I heard some very interesting news I've been wanting to talk to you about."
"Oh?" he asked, fairly certain he knew what she wanted to discuss. "And what did you hear?"
"I stopped by the shelter this morning, and Tori told me that you interviewed her yesterday for a job, and hired her."
"I did." He shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of his actions and the choice he'd made. "I needed a receptionist for the office, and I automatically thought of Tori. I know she was nervous about getting a job because she didn't have any experience, and I thought this would be a good start for her. She'll be answering the phone and doing light administrative tasks. I know she'll do great once she gets the hang of it."
Erica nodded in agreement. "And not only did you start her off on quite a high pay scale with full benefits, way above the norm for a receptionist," she pointed out needlessly, "she also mentioned that you gave her a substantial advance for her to find a decent apartment for her and Janet, with enough money left over to buy furnishings."
He stretched his arm along the back of her chair and rubbed his thumb along the bare nape of her neck. "It's not a big deal, Erica."
"Maybe not to you, but it is to her," she said, sounding very pleased that he'd thought of Tori for the employment opportunity. "I don't think I've ever seen her so happy and confident."
Erica's gaze softened with adoration, and though he loved seeing that affection directed solely at him, gaining her approval hadn't been the reason why he'd hired Tori at his investment firm. His reasons went much, much deeper than that, to his own struggle to find a place where he fit in. He remembered how the Winslows had offered him such unconditional acceptance at a time in his life when he'd needed it the most. He liked to think he'd returned the favor in helping Tori.
She glanced out to the field, where the teams were still warming up before the game started. On the lower levels, people were finding their seats and buying refreshments from the vendors strolling through the stands.
After a few silent moments passed, she turned back to him and asked, "Why didn't you tell me about hiring Tori?"
"I was going to." He grinned lazily. "If you haven't noticed, this is really the first stretch of time we've had alone since we arrived." And honestly, he hadn't been sure how Erica would take the news, considering her staunch views on being an independent woman. Obviously, he'd done well with Tori, and she approved.
Unexpectedly, she leaned across the plastic armrest and placed a warm, lingering kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.
He tilted his head. "For what?"
Her fingers touched his jaw reverently. "For giving Tori the chance she needed to build her self-esteem. For giving her the opportunity to prove that she can make it on her own and support herself and doesn't need her abusive husband to take care of her."
"Everybody needs someone to believe in them, Erica." He spoke from his own personal experience, and knew beneath that stubborn, headstrong facade of Erica's she needed someone who supported her emotionally, too – whether she realized it or not. "I see so much potential with Tori, and I know she's going to fit in well at the firm. I don't know if this makes sense, but I just wanted to do something for someone else, in much the same way the Winslows helped me when I was starting out."
"I understand," she said, her gaze and tender expression backing up her simple but powerful words. "You're very lucky to have the Winslows in your life."
He heard the wistful catch in her voice, and wondered if she'd heard it, too, or if she didn't even realize what she longed for. "Yeah, I am." He made a split-second decision, one that would yet again shift the dynamics of their relationship. "You know, I'm having Sunday lunch with the Winslows tomorrow afternoon, and I know they'd enjoy meeting you—"
She was shaking her head in denial before he even finished. "Ian … I don't know." Insecurities infused her voice. "I mean, you and Audrey and the Winslows…"
He understood her concern but wouldn't accept it as an excuse. "Audrey is gone, Erica," he said gently but firmly. "There's nothing I or anyone else can do to change that. You're here and now for me, and I know that the Winslows are wondering who the sassy mystery woman is that I'm debating with on the air every night." He followed that up with a persuasive grin.
Still, she hesitated, her concern and uncertainty evident in the absent way she chewed on her thumbnail and her unwillingness to give him a verbal commitment to the very personal date.
"Last weekend you shared a part of your life with me," he said. "Now, it's my turn to share with you."
That request seemed to penetrate her defenses, and she released a pent-up breath. "You make it very difficult for me to argue with you Mr. Carlisle."
He chuckled. "I take it that means yes?"
"Yes, that means yes." She pinched him playfully in his side, letting him know that the choice was truly her own, not instigated by guilt or a sense of fairness she felt she might owe him.
Grabbing her wrist, he brought her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to her fingertips. "You know, we never did nail down the specifics of our wager on the game."
Her lashes fell half-mast and her mouth curved into a beguiling smile. "Since your focus seems to be on making a lot of home runs, the team with the highest score wins, obviously. And since a home run in terms of sex is going all the way, let's say the winner calls the shots later – any way they want it."
"You're on," he murmured, welcoming the heat of anticipation that flowed through his veins
and settled in southern regions. No matter how he analyzed the bet, whether he claimed personal victory with his team or lost the wager, he'd still come out a winner.
*
"I DEMAND A REMATCH," Erica grumbled, not for the first time since the game ended with a six to seven score in the Cubs' favor. "I swear Dave Hansen slid into home base before the catcher touched him with the ball. That umpire had to have been blind not to have seen that he was safe!"
"Don't be a poor loser, Erica," he said consolingly, having listened to her complain the entire drive to her place about the injustice of her team losing. That third and final out for the Dodgers at the top of the tenth inning had cost them the game. The Cubs had triumphed by one run, and that's all Ian needed to win the bet. Despite her fun-loving quibbles and claims that his team cheated, they'd both concurred it had been a close, exciting game.
"The ump called the play an out," he said, "and I happen to agree."
"Of course you would." They headed up the walkway leading to her apartment, and she dug her keys out of her purse. "And you don't have to look so smug about the fact that the ump is biased toward your team."
He chuckled at her outlandish accusation, one of many he'd had to endure the past hour. "It's my right as the winner to be anything I want. And just as soon as we get inside your apartment I get to call the shots, any way I want." He was already hard and aching with wanting her, and anxious to get them both naked.
She sent him a look of mock surrender. "Then I guess I have no choice but to accept defeat and be a slave to your every desire."
He grinned wickedly. "Nope, no choice at all."
Unlocking the door, she entered, and he trailed behind, closing and securing the bolt behind them. It was warm inside her apartment after being unoccupied all day. She tossed her purse and keys onto the couch and walked over to an air-conditioning unit protruding from the wall. She turned the knob to high and a gust of cool air blasted her midsection. Catching his reflection in the brass-framed mirror mounted over the unit, she sighed in relief, unbuttoned the sheer blouse she wore over her tank top and let it fall to the floor.
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