Champagne Rules. Susan Lyons

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СКАЧАТЬ finding them right now. And those pretty breasts were blushing with something that looked a lot like sunburn. “Are you okay?”

      She tossed her hair back and almost lost her balance again. “Sure. Well, maybe a little drunk on wine and sun and sex.”

      “Wine? I missed out on wine?”

      “At lunch. You have to have wine at lunch on Crete. At least on your last day.” She gave him a dazzling smile.

      That smile was a beauty, but her green eyes looked a little unfocused. The beginning of a hangover?

      Or just too much sex? His own legs, legs that could play every quarter of a b-ball game without faltering, felt rubbery.

      He took her towel and held her arm as she struggled into her bikini. She had trouble with the halter top, fumbling with the ties at the back. He turned her around, scooped her hair out of the way, and fastened her up. A bow, on a special gift. Too bad he wasn’t unwrapping her rather than wrapping her back up. He buried his nose in the nape of her neck, and breathed in the scent of peaches and sex.

      Whoa! He was getting horny again. Quickly, he stepped into his own bathing suit.

      When he offered her his arm, she slipped her hand through, and they began to walk again.

      “You said it’s your last day?” he asked, not sure if he was glad or sorry. An afternoon like this couldn’t have been repeated, could it?

      “Yeah. Home tomorrow. How ’bout you?”

      “I have a couple more days.” He’d let a law school pal persuade him to come on this holiday, though he hadn’t seen much of Chase since his buddy’d hooked up with that sexy redhead on the long trip over.

      “My hotel’s jush…just up there.” She pointed.

      She’d slurred her words. He frowned, thinking of the sun-flush on her skin, wondering how much wine she’d drunk. Earlier, she’d seemed in control, but now…Christ, he hadn’t taken advantage of her, had he?

      He tugged her to a stop and turned her to face him. “Are you all right?”

      “Wonderful!”

      “And, you’re okay about this afternoon?”

      “Oh yes! I,” she announced firmly, “am sexy.”

      He chuckled. “That’s the truth, woman.”

      “I am a sexy woman.”

      Or a sexy mermaid, he thought. “So, no regrets?”

      “No way.”

      He’d been right all along. She was every man’s wet dream—a gorgeous, uninhibited, sexy gal who knew exactly what she was doing.

      They stood staring at each other for a long moment, and Jax wondered if she’d ask for his name, his number. His ego wished she would; his brain said he didn’t need the complication.

      “So, I guess this is it,” he said tentatively.

      She nodded, then giggled and held out her hand. “I forgot to say thank you.”

      Thank you? “Uh, you too.” He took her hand gently, but she pumped his in a businesslike handshake. She was making it easy, but he couldn’t let it go at that. He kept hold of that slender hand and squeezed it. “It’s been great. Like…the best dream I could imagine.”

      She nodded. “Dream. Yes.”

      “We should keep it like that, right?” he probed.

      “Mmm-hmm. Perfect dream.” She yawned widely. “Time to go back to sleep.”

      And with nothing more—no kiss, no good-bye—she turned and walked a little unsteadily, but with hips boldly swaying, the last steps to her hotel.

      Jax stared after her as she disappeared through the open door into the dark lobby.

      Weird.

      But then, the whole afternoon had been weird in the extreme.

      As he turned to go, he realized he was still carrying her towel. He should leave it at the desk of her hotel, but…He snorted and shook his head.

      Damn it, he wanted the souvenir.

      1

      “So, tell all, Suze.” Jenny leaned forward, elbows on the table, pink flamingo earrings dancing. “What’s the best sex you ever had?”

      Around their outside table at Las Margaritas restaurant, three flushed female faces grinned at Suzanne.

      It was Jenny Yuen who’d launched the topic, with her description of hot sex in her boyfriend Pete’s double Jacuzzi. “It was the best sex of my life!” she’d exclaimed, brown eyes flashing. “I swear, Korean men beat Chinese, hands down.”

      “Ssh,” Suzanne had said, used to the fact that Jenny’s personality was twice the size of her petite body, but wishing she didn’t always have to be quite so out there.

      She wished she’d kept quiet, though, when Jenny turned the question on her.

      “I, um…” Best sex? Suzanne barely suppressed a nervous giggle. That would have to be with her dream lover.

      Jenny rolled her eyes, turned a pink sweatshirted back to Suzanne, and said to Rina Goldberg, “So, what’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

      “Not with Marty, that’s for sure.” Tonight, at the Awesome Foursome’s regular Monday dinner, Rina had already told them she’d called it quits with the man she’d been seeing for the last several months. Her heart definitely didn’t seem broken.

      “The best sex,” she murmured. Looking like a gypsy with a fringed burgundy shawl over her usual black clothing, she pulled a wayward lock of curly black hair behind a multi-ringed ear as she sipped her second margarita and considered the question.

      The others waited, munching from the platter of nachos locos—laden with everything yummy and fattening you could possibly imagine—and working on their own second margaritas.

      Rina began to smile, and nodded her head firmly. “Yeah, I know exactly. The summer I turned eighteen, I went to a music school in Banff. There was this other student, Giancarlo, from Italy. He was a pianist and he had the most awesome hands.”

      The others oohed and aahed as Rina described the things Giancarlo had done with those hands, including making her come three times in a row atop the grand piano in a student rehearsal room.

      Somewhere during the recitation, a third round of margaritas got ordered for everyone but Suzanne, who had a strict two-drink limit.

      When Rina finished, Jenny turned to Ann Montgomery. “Your turn,” she said, talking around a guacamole-and-sour-cream laden chip.

      “You know I’m a conventional gal.” But Ann’s eyes were twinkling. “I’m not much into Jacuzzis or pianos. СКАЧАТЬ