Champagne Rules. Susan Lyons

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Champagne Rules

      Champagne Rules

      SUSAN LYONS

      KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

      http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      To Mom and Ted,

      for encouraging me to achieve my dream of being a writer.

      Contents

      Prologue—four years earlier

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Acknowledgments

      Prologue—four years earlier

      Suzanne balanced astride him, bracing her hands on his shoulders. Muscled shoulders, so slick with sweat her hands kept sliding. Sliding, like her body was sliding—up, down, as she rode him—their bodies making wet suck-and-slap sounds each time they came together. And each time they did come together, the burn, the ache, between her legs grew stronger.

      Her body moved mindlessly, driving toward satisfaction.

      But no, not yet. This was so amazing, so incredible, so unbelievable, she didn’t want it to end.

      So unbelievable…Like a dream, the whole afternoon was a dream. The dusky light in the cave, the dazzle of sunny blue sky outside. The earthy, tangy scent that combined sex, sweat, ocean, dust and something else, something male and exotic, something that went straight to her head and made it spin. The scent of the man beneath her.

      The man. The sexiest, most gorgeous guy she’d ever laid eyes on. An athlete’s body, lean and muscled. Skin like dark chocolate, hair the color of coal, a hint of the exotic in the short dreadlocks and neat goatee. His eyes, his smile, were bright flashes against the dim light.

      She leaned down, letting tangles of long blond hair brush his nipples, touching her lips to his, feeling the slight tickle of his facial hair. But when he tried to deepen the kiss, she raised her head again, arching back, teasing him.

      Teasing? Was this really her, acting like this?

      Her head spun and for a moment she lost her rhythm, but his hands gripped her waist. Steadying, but not forcing her.

      This incredible, powerful guy had surrendered control to her, put her in charge. The idea was so arousing, so erotic, she could hardly stand it.

      She’d never felt this way before. She’d always thought of her body as healthy and reliable, but not exactly sexy.

      Sexy. Oh man, this afternoon Suzanne Brennan was the epitome of sexy! Because he was, this fabulous lover of hers. For the first time in her life she was with a man—not a high school kid, not a college boy, but a real man. And every glint of his eyes told her she was a woman. A sexy woman.

      She’d lost her virginity four years ago at the age of sixteen, but now she felt like it hadn’t counted. Nothing in her sex life had counted until today, when she’d really become a woman.

      A brand-new instinct told her to move faster and faster, to glide up and slam down against his hard body, grinding herself into him, twisting and twining around him, building that tantalizing ache, until they both exploded.

      But another part of her wanted to hold back, to make it last.

      She stopped moving, panting for breath, feeling his body shudder as he too sucked in air.

      “You okay?” he murmured.

      “Mmm.” But when she nodded, her head spun again. Too much wine for lunch, on her last day on Crete. Too much sunshine. Too much man? No, never. “Want to make it last.”

      “Then distract me, woman. Distract the both of us.” His voice was sensual, deep and melodious. Sexy, to match everything else about him.

      Distract them? From sex? “How?”

      “Well…” He glanced around. “Look outside, down to the beach. What’s happening?”

      “Okay.” She straightened a bit, lifted her gaze to the mouth of their cliffside cave. Sunshine, oh wow, it was bright! Tears sprang to her eyes as she squinted against the glare.

      Dizzy again. Shouldn’t have had so much wine.

      But a soft breeze dried the sweat on her face and filled her nostrils with the scent of ocean and sun-warmed herbs. Gradually her head cleared, and her eyes adjusted to the light. “The sand’s so pale it’s almost white, and the water’s a vivid greeny-blue. Like a postcard of paradise.”

      The kind of postcard she’d send to her big sister but definitely not her parents. This particular paradise was a nude beach.

      She smiled. “Some kids—young people—are dancing around in the shallow water, splashing and laughing.” If she hadn’t met him, she might be with them right now—if she’d had the guts to join in. “They’re playing and it’s kind of innocent, but it’s provocative too, because they’re naked.”

      His fingers stroked down the inside of her thigh, then back up again, coming to rest just below the spot where their bodies joined. Innocent, yet provocative. She shivered, a tremor that shook her from head to toe, outside and in.

      His body tensed in response. “Don’t move.” His voice was rougher now. “Keep talking, give me something else to focus on.”

      Did she have so much power, that a mere shiver could threaten his control? An amazing thought—but then he had that power over her, this man who’d given her her first Big O.

      Suzanne tried to hold still as she straddled him, her thighs hot and slick against his, her knees sore from the rough towel and the hard rock beneath it.

      Her gaze roamed the beach. “There’s a couple lying on a big red towel.” Were they…? She squinted. “Both men.” That was one thing about a nude beach, there was no such thing as gender ambiguity.

      “They’re holding hands.” She smiled dreamily. “Lovers. Letting the sun kiss them, waiting, being patient, feeling the anticipation build.” Just as she and her lover were doing.

      He reached out to claim her right hand, and brought it to his mouth. Gently, he nipped the mound at the base of her thumb, then took the tip of her index finger into his mouth and began to suck.

      Her breath quickened. When she looked down, he shook his head. “No,” he said. “Watch the beach.”

      Twenty or thirty yards below, gentle waves lapped the shore, receded, then lapped again. His mouth found their rhythm as he sucked, then released, bathing her finger in wet heat, then easing free so the cave’s breath chilled her burning skin.

      She’d never experienced—never even imagined—anything so sensual, so sexy.

      Here she was, a voyeur, watching the people below on the beach, and at the same time this man was watching her, making love to her.

      Suzanne couldn’t