Champagne Rules. Susan Lyons

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      She gave a surprised laugh. “My vision’s not that good.”

      His fingers teased the curls between her thighs. “Your imagination is. Tell me what he’s reading.”

      “I, uh…”

      He twisted and twined her curls around his fingers, reminding her of a scene from a book her best friend’s sister had loaned her when she was thirteen. A classic, the girl had assured her, then giggled and said that, all the same, she’d better hide it where her parents wouldn’t find it.

      His fingers drifted lower and her words came out in little gasps as she panted for breath. “It’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover, except he’s changing it, because they’re gay. He’s saying it’s Lord Chatterley who’s having an affair with the gamekeeper. Oh, sorry, do you know the book?”

      “Saw the movie. Sexy.”

      “There’s a scene where the gamekeeper threads flowers into his lover’s, um, hair.” Okay, she might be sexy this afternoon, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word “pubic” aloud.

      All the same, he seemed to catch her meaning. “No flowers. Just fingers.” As he spoke, two of those strong fingers pressed gently against her clitoris.

      “Fingers are—” She gasped at his touch, at the pressure building inexorably within her. “Fingers are good.”

      “Forget the beach,” he commanded. “Look at us now. Look at how we fit together.”

      She turned her gaze downward, but her eyes, shocked by the transition from sunlight to shade, were momentarily blind. Disoriented, the only sensation she trusted was the solid heat of the man beneath her. Inside her.

      But that was sensation, not…sense. What was she doing, making love—for the third time—with a man she’d just met? A man whose name she didn’t know.

      This was crazy. What had happened to sensible Suzie?

      Yet, enchantment was in the air, and she was powerless to resist.

      “Hey,” he said softly. “You with me?”

      Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness again, and she looked down at their bodies. “Oh yeah.”

      Long reddish-gold tendrils of hair dangled down, glowing even in the dim light, against her breasts. High, small breasts, almost white where her bikini normally covered them, compared to her holiday tan.

      Contrasts.

      Even her darkest tan was pale compared to his skin.

      Her attention focused on the center, the place where their bodies came together. The golden curls of her pubic hair tangled with his black ones. She’d never been with a dark-skinned man before, never seen how beautiful the contrasts could be.

      “Stop thinking,” he whispered.

      As if he’d clicked a switch, her brain shut off. All that was left was her body. A body that was pure sensation, nothing more, nothing less.

      She savored the intoxicating musk of their lovemaking threading through the tangy Cretan scent. Her lips were open, gasping for air, moaning her pleasure, and on those lips she tasted the salt of her own sweat and the deeper, darker musk of his kisses.

      Easing herself up, she watched as her body slid free of him, reveling in the sight of the rigid shaft that rose from his curly hair. She’d never seen anything so utterly male in her life.

      Then she slid down again, engulfing him, feeling his length and breadth fill her to capacity, thrilling at the way her body opened to take him in. Glorying in the friction, the tension of his flesh sliding against hers, pressing deep into her core.

      The sensations twined together, demanding her response, and inside her the pressure built, collecting itself and coiling tight, and tighter.

      Suzanne squeezed her thighs together, clenched her internal muscles. She fought against the inevitable, but he was moving faster now and she couldn’t hold back, she had to move with him. She whimpered with tension, pleasure, the need for release, the desire to capture and hold the moment forever.

      He arched and cried out. His climax exploded into her, demanding her response. As he pumped, she threw back her head, shut her eyes, and the coil of tension sprang free, unwinding in waves that crashed against him.

      Her body dissolved, melted, began to collapse, but his hands held her upright.

      Slowly, she opened her eyes, to see the beach. Her head was spinning, her vision blurry, but still she could see sunbathers glancing around, turning to look up. She ducked quickly, feeling even dizzier.

      “They heard us,” she whispered, knowing her whole body was blushing as his hands loosed their grip and she slid bonelessly down to cover him.

      He was still inside her as her eyelids drooped and sleep claimed her.

      Everything after the cave had to be an anticlimax, Jaxon Navarre thought, as he and his sexy blonde emerged from the darkness and started down the goat trail to the beach. They were walking, step by step, back to reality.

      Inevitable, but awkward. Easier to have gone when she fell asleep, but Jax wasn’t a guy who’d leave a woman alone and vulnerable.

      Not that he could imagine his blonde being vulnerable. She was the most no-holds-barred lover he’d ever had. And he’d had more than his fair share.

      Yeah, finding sex had never been a problem. Finding a woman who didn’t see him as some stupid stereotype was a different issue. He’d had girls throw themselves at him to prove they weren’t prejudiced, to taste the exotic, to find out whether black guys really were better hung. They’d wanted him because he was the captain of his high school basketball team, then of his college team—quite a feat for a guy who was only six-foot-three—and now they wanted him because he was going to be a lawyer. A successful, rich one too, if he stuck to his plan.

      This woman was different, though. She knew nothing about him, not even his name, and there’d been none of that artificial “Oh, are you black? Honest, I hadn’t noticed” crap.

      Too bad he couldn’t pack her up in his duffel bag and take her home to San Fran.

      He chuckled. Yeah, like that’d ever work. He would start articles with a very, very high-powered law firm next week, and he’d be on the line to prove himself. No sweat, though. He’d met every test so far, and he would meet this one too.

      Tuning in to his surroundings, he saw they’d just emerged from a thicket of scrubby little trees that separated the nude beach from the next one over. He stopped and turned to his companion with a rueful grin. “Hell. Time to put our clothes on.”

      She swept a bold glance down, then up, his body. “Pity.”

      Juggling her towel, she tried to step into the bottom of her green bikini, and lost her balance. She would have tumbled if he hadn’t caught her shoulders.

      Staring into her flushed face, he thought again how gorgeous she was. With her striking features, cloud of wavy golden hair, small breasts perched high on a sleek, slender body, СКАЧАТЬ