Heat Wave Page 4

  She dropped her lipstick into her purse and clicked it closed. She drew in a long, deep breath that made her luscious breasts rise and fall and sent his imagination into a million directions. He shifted in his seat.

  “Have you ever taken one of the cruises along the water?” Ian asked as they prepared to leave.

  “Only in New York, during the summer. There’s always a jazz cruise on the Hudson.” He was right on her when she stood as he helped her out of her seat. What she wanted to do was turn around into his arms and sample him right then and there. His scent was driving her crazy.

  “I was thinking, if you want, we can do one of the cruises this evening, listen to some music, dance a little. It’s my last free night for a while. Tomorrow the lounge opens and . . . I’ll be all tied up.”

  The heat of his breath brushed her neck and hot-wired her brain. She wasn’t sure what he’d just said—something about tying her up—but she agreed anyway.

  “Perfect. I’ll make reservations and pick you up around seven. They shove off at eight.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  He pressed his palm against her lower back as he guided her outside. “I know,” he responded in a thick whisper.

  “Mind if we stop at the market before heading back?” Nina asked as they walked to Ian’s car.

  “Not at all. One of my favorites is about two blocks down, near that light.” He pointed, but all Nina could see was the way the muscles in his arm rippled like the ocean, and she imagined herself held captive by them and carried away to some remote locale where it was just the two of them, exploring the hidden treasure of each other’s bodies and . . .

  “This is it.”

  She came up short, not realizing that they’d come to a stop or even that they’d been walking.

  Ian reached around her and opened the glass and chrome door, and mercifully a cool air-conditioned breeze wrapped around her and lowered her rising temperature.

  “Of course, nothing beats picking fruits from your own tree and vegetables from your own garden,” Ian was saying as they stepped inside.

  “Back home?”

  “Hmm, umm. My folks grew all of our vegetables in the yard. We had a mango tree and an orange tree out front. Came in handy when things got tough financially.”

  Nina frowned as she picked up a cucumber. “How?” She turned to him and ran her thumb along the slick skin.

  “We’d sell what we grew at the market. Make ends meet.” He looked down at the basket of sweet peaches, picked one up, and took a deep bite. The succulent juice burst in his mouth, slipped over the side, which he licked away with his tongue.

  Nina felt her own juices flowing as she watched him tease and suck the tender fruit even as she mindlessly ran her fingers up and down the hard surface of the cucumber and across its bulbous top.

  Ian did everything short of saying a Hail Mary to keep his building erection in check. He knew she’d taste just as sweet as the fruit he had in his mouth, and he couldn’t wait to sample her and . . .

  “Ian? Is that you?”

  He turned in the direction of a voice and did a double take. “Cara.”

  Before he could get in another word, she walked up to him and kissed him full on the lips, looping her arms around his neck like a woman who knew her man.

  Whoever this Cara was, she was nothing less than a bronze bombshell. Petite, maybe no more than five foot five, curves from head to toe, arresting gray-green eyes, and layers of strawberry blonde hair that bounced around her shoulders. She was an almost perfect shoo-in for the actress and onetime Miss America Vanessa Williams.

  Nina didn’t know which way to look. Had this been Brooklyn, she might have said something to the woman who had totally disrespected her presence. But it wasn’t her call and Ian wasn’t her man and this wasn’t Brooklyn.

  Ian peeled Cara’s arms from around him and held her away from him. He looked her firmly in the eye, then took Nina’s hand that still held the cucumber. “Cara Kingston, this is Nina Forbes.” He moved closer to Nina so that they became a united front.

  Nina’s spirits instantly lifted. She could just kiss him. She pressed her hip closer to his and smiled sweetly at Cara. “Nice to meet you.”

  Cara didn’t miss a beat. “And you as well.” She turned her full one-hundred-watt voltage attention on Ian, displaying impossibly perfect white teeth. “Imagine running into you here.” She made a little face. “I had no idea you’d left Barbados,” she said in the delicate mixture of British and Caribbean.

  “Should you?”

  She wagged a manicured finger at him. “I thought we were friends.”

  Ian moved closer to Nina and casually put his arm around her waist. “So what brings you here?” he asked, diverting her question.

  “I came down with friends. We’re staying for about two weeks. We have a condo just off the water. You must come by and bring”—she glanced at Nina for a moment—“Dina.”

  “Nina.”

  Cara lightly slapped her brow with the heel of her palm. “Forgive me. I’m so terrible with names.” Her deep dimples flashed. “Imagine being a public figure and not able to remember names.” She slowly shook her head as if the confession were the saddest thing she’d ever done. “In any event, the invitation is open. We’re having a ‘thing’ this weekend.” She dug in her purse, found a business card, and wrote the address and her cell number on the back. She handed it to Ian. “Do drop by. It would be good to have you . . . over.” She turned to Nina with wide eyes. “And you as well.” She reached up and kissed Ian’s cheek this time. “Try to make it, love,” she said into his ear. She turned away and strolled off, leaving her flowery scent behind.

  Nina pushed out a breath and felt the stiffness in her back begin to relax.

  Ian squeezed her hand. “Sorry about that. Cara can be a bit much sometimes.”

  Nina laughed lightly and continued examining the fruit. She wondered if Cara tasted the sweet peach juice that had certainly lingered on Ian’s mouth when she stole that kiss. She was dying to know how well they knew each other, but she would walk barefoot on broken glass before she showed any interest or concern whatsoever.

  “I’m going to get a basket. I see already that what I want will be too much to carry.”

  Nina studied him as he walked down the vegetable aisle. She hadn’t had the opportunity before to get the full effect of his confident swagger, a Denzel kind of stroll that made her imagine him just walking right on up inside her and there would be nothing she could do to stop him.

  Nina shook her head to scatter the vision as Ian returned, and the coming-right-at-ya view was equally as stimulating.

  “I probably should have gotten one too,” Nina said, needing to speak some words to clear her head.

  “We can share.” He winked.

  They walked up and down the aisles, picking up strawberries, bags of bing cherries, peaches, tomatoes, romaine lettuce, baby carrots, and fresh string beans until the basket was near to overflowing.

  “Either we check out or get another basket,” Nina quipped.

  “Is there anything else you see that you want?”

  Nina swallowed. Her throat was dry. She was a breath away from him, close enough to feel the steady beat of his heart thumping against his chest. Or was that her heart? “Nothing else from here,” she said, coyly.

  His brow quirked. “Let’s go then.” He took their selections to the cashier and was placing them on the counter when Nina began plucking items from the basket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “These are the things I picked up. I can’t have you paying for them.”

  He took the box of strawberries from her hand and put it back on the counter. “And why not?”

  She blinked several times. “Well . . . because it’s not right.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Why?” he probed, enjoying her moment of discomfort even as he continued to unpack the basket.

  “ ’Cause we’ll get our stuf
f all mixed up,” she offered.

  His smile came full bloom. “I’m looking forward to getting our stuff all mixed up.” He bent his head and kissed her until they were interrupted by the throat-clearing of the cashier.

  Ian released her lips and turned his attention on the cashier. “How much is that?”

  “Forty-two dollars and sixty cents.”

  He gave her his credit card. Nina picked up one of the smaller bags. Ian took the other two after signing the slip and getting his card back. They walked to his car.

  “Thanks. I owe you.”

  Ian opened the trunk. “Only if you want to owe me.” He put the packages in the trunk and shut it.

  She stood in front of him, looked up into his eyes, let them roam over his face for a moment. “To be quite honest, I don’t know what I want to do with you,” she said with a husky note of invitation.

  He held her chin between his fingers. “Shame . . . I know exactly what I want to do with you.”

  Nina’s heart bumped in her chest. Her face was on fire.

  Ian opened the passenger door for her and somehow she managed to get in. She wiggled into a comfortable position. If Ian didn’t put out the fire that was raging inside of her—and soon—she was sure she would combust.

  Chapter 7

  It was nearing five o’clock by the time Ian pulled into Nina’s driveway. They’d listened to music from the CD player and made small talk about the weather while both of them were on simmer.

  Ian compelled himself to concentrate on the winding narrow road and not the silk of Nina’s legs, the rise and fall of the swell of her breasts barely held in place by the dipping neckline of her dress, or the sultry scent that wafted off her and had him wondering if he had enough condoms for all the times he was going to make love to her. His erection was so hard that it hurt and there was only so much shifting he could do to hide it from her.

  He turned off the engine. He couldn’t get out. Not now, at least not yet. Inwardly he groaned.

  “Um, if you pop the trunk I can get the bags.”

  “Why don’t I just bring them for you when I come and pick you up later?”

  She angled her head to the side. “I really wanted those strawberries,” she said in a half pout. Her gaze rolled down his body and she thrilled to realize the effect she was having on him.

  Ian turned halfway in his seat to face her. He was tired of the cat and mouse game. It was driving him crazy and either they were going to have mind-blowing sex right now or . . .

  “Come inside,” she said in a thick whisper. She reached across the gearshift and placed her hand on his muscled thigh, inches away from his throbbing cock.

  Ian’s jaw clenched. “Make sure this is what you want.”

  She ran her tongue across her lips. Her eyes grew dark. “I can’t think of anything else that I want more at the moment.”

  Ian released the locks with a metallic pop and they exited the car simultaneously. He went around to the trunk, took out their packages, and followed Nina to her front door.

  They were barely across the threshold when Ian set the bags down and shoved the door shut with his free hand, then grabbed Nina from behind with his other and turned her into his waiting body.

  His mouth covered hers, stealing her breath away, capturing it and letting it fill his lungs. He breathed her in, made her one with him. The curves and fullness of her body merged with his. He pulled her closer, his fingers massaging the sleek lines of her edible form. His hunger to strip her naked built with the intensity of a hurricane swirling inside him.

  The sweetness of her tongue as it sensuously danced with his sent jolts of electricity coursing through his limbs. He gathered the folds of her dress and pushed it up around her hips, then cupped her plump bottom in his palms, thrilled to discover that she was wearing the barest of thongs.

  Nina moaned in delight when she finally felt the thrust of his rock-hard erection press between her thighs. She felt dizzy with need and found herself peeling his shirt up and over his head, then tossing it to the floor.

  Ian unfastened the snap that held the front of her dress closed, and the treasure of her breasts bloomed before him. He groaned deep in his throat and lowered his head to sample what he’d fantasized about from the moment he’d met her.

  When the heat and wetness of his mouth touched down on the swell of Nina’s breast, her legs trembled. He pushed aside the cup of her bra and teased a taut nipple into his mouth. Lights went off behind her lids, and when he sucked harder, she was sure she would have crumbled in a heap at his feet had he not been holding her around the waist in the vise grip of his arm.

  They moaned and rocked against each other, stroking and pulling at clothes, tossing aside what they could and opening up the rest.

  “Upstairs,” she urged against the onslaught of his mouth. She grabbed his hand and pulled him willingly behind her up the winding staircase to her bedroom.

  Nina walked inside and stepped out of her dress. She reached behind her to unhook her bra.

  “Wait.”

  Her gaze collided with Ian’s.

  “Let me.” He crossed the room to where she stood. With taunting deliberation, he reached around her, dropped hot kisses along her exposed neck, and let his fingers play along the curve of her spine, which caused her to arch her body toward him, just the way he wanted. He took her mouth again, palmed her bottom in his large hand, and urged her to quell the throb that thumped between his muscular thighs.

  Nina gasped with pleasure, slid her hand between them, and gently caressed him. The feel of his hardened shaft in her hand set her own juices to flowing.

  The snap was released. Ian took down one strap and then the other, slipping the cups down one at a time for his own private strip show before tossing the lacy garment onto the armchair. He inhaled deeply, taking her in. She was beautiful. Perfect in his eyes. He reached out and reverently caressed her breasts, thrilled to hear her soft sighs escalate to moans. He stroked her flat belly and toyed with the elastic band of her thong as he inched down her body, planting fiery kisses along the way. He kissed and suckled the insides of her thighs until she began to tremble and clutch his shoulders for support.

  He was on his knees now, kissing and nibbling her thighs, her legs, while he inched off her thong until it was around her ankles, and then he worked his way back up until he reached the epicenter of heat.

  Her clit was already slightly swollen and glistening in arousal, peeking out from the folds of her sex, almost begging to be taken care of.

  First he teased it with a gentle stroke of his thumb. Her body jerked and she cried out. He did it again, and again, softer, harder, faster, slower, until her gentle whimpers grew into ragged moans and her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders and her body shook with pleasure bolts and his fingers became wet and slick with her essence.

  She was ripe for the tasting then, like the sweet peach he’d sampled earlier, so he took a lick and another and another, overcome by the hunger for her that rocked him. She was sweeter, tarter, more succulent than he could have ever imagined. He wanted all of her, to drain her dry, feel her body convulse and shimmy with an orgasm that she would always remember, and remember that he was the one who gave it to her.

  So he took her over and over, drank of her until she begged him to stop, to finish, to help her, to make it happen . . . cried out to God for mercy, and to him for fulfillment, yes, yes, over and over, until the shudders stopped, and her knees finally weakened.

  Ian was nowhere near finished. He picked her up and put her on the bed. Took off his pants and shorts. He stood over her. “Where are they?” he demanded to know.

  She looked up at him and felt like she was trapped in some crazy erotic dream that wouldn’t end. Her insides were still on fire. Her breasts ached. Her vagina longed for something to fill it.

  “Where are they?” he repeated.

  Nina blinked. “In the drawer,” she managed to say.

  Ian pulled the nightstand draw
er open and immediately saw the box of condoms. He pulled the box open, scattering some of the shiny packets to the floor.

  Nina watched him as he tore open the packet with his teeth and slowly rolled the lambskin over his pulsing member, which began to look more and more like a lethal weapon that, if not controlled, would do real damage. She bent her knees and spread her legs in welcome.

  Ian snatched a pillow from the top of the bed and pushed it under Nina’s hips, giving him full and total access, then positioned himself between her thighs.

  Nina took a deep breath when she felt the thickness of the head press roughly against her opening. She lifted her hips and spread her legs even farther. She buried her face in his neck to keep from screaming when Ian pushed across her wet threshold and filled her to near bursting, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending her cry to bounce off the walls around them.

  Ian kept perfectly still, nestled deep within her, even as his body desperately wanted to move in and out of the heated tunnel. But he could feel her trembling as her body slowly adjusted to accommodate him. He would take his cue from her, and when she was ready, he would love her to the bitter end.

  Of its own volition and a need that went back to the beginning of time, her body loosened and began a steady rhythmic undulation, meeting his long, deep thrusts with a slow three-sixty that had them both groaning in pleasure.

  They found each other’s beat and devised their own dance that went from quick and short to long and deep and back again, ebbing and flowing in intensity, both wanting the end and satisfaction from this sublime torture, yet not wanting it to be over.

  But all at once her spot was hit and her insides squeezed around him, and that thrust that he didn’t want to give her took over and they surrendered to the will of their bodies that fought and clawed and gripped and shoved and dipped and rolled until one explosion after the other rocked through them, shaking them like rag dolls in a tornado before tossing them back to the earth.

  Chapter 8

  Be careful what you wish for, kept running through Nina’s head as she willed her body to come back to her. Oh my God. Never in all of her life had she had sex like that, had an orgasm like that. She was still having aftershocks, and as difficult as it was to comprehend, Ian was still hard as a wood beam inside of her. She stroked his back. Ian was incredible. Sweet, caring, sensitive to her. And if you added that he was handsome, smart, talented, and doing pretty well for himself, you had a man of every woman’s fantasy.