Champagne Rules. Susan Lyons

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      “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 stay still any longer. Her body picked up that same beat, the rhythm of his mouth, of the waves. She lifted off him, exposing his shaft to the cool air, then lowered herself, taking him back inside.

      His teeth closed on her finger. He groaned, then released her hand as his breathing quickened. Inside her, arousal was building again. Hers, his, each feeding the other.

      She moved faster, until his hips lifted off the ground.

      But no, if she speeded up they’d both climax, and she wasn’t ready for this to end. If she could, she’d make it last forever.

      Forever?

      She stopped moving, dimly aware of his frustrated groan. Gazing down, she tried to make out his features in the dusky light, but only his eyes were clearly visible, slitted now as he struggled for control.

      Forever? Confused, she shook her head to clear it, but instead the dizziness returned. She closed her eyes and held still, trying to think. This had nothing to do with forever. She was going home tomorrow, would never see him again. Her life was just starting, and forever was way down the road.

      This man was her initiation into adulthood. He was teaching her about her own sexuality.

      Yes, that’s what this afternoon was about. That’s all it was.

      Feeling sane again, she realized his body was trembling, his fingers biting into her hips. “Are you all right?” she asked.

      “The beach.” The words grated out. “Tell me what’s happening now.”

      He was so big and strong, yet he was letting her set the pace, using every ounce of will power to hold his body in check.

      She turned her face to the sun, keeping her eyes closed a few seconds, then opening them slowly to the brightness.

      Below, a couple strolled into view. “There’s an older man and woman. Grey-haired, naked, walking at the edge of the water. Arms around each other’s waists. They look like they’ve been in love forever.”

      Yes, here was what forever looked like. One day she’d find a relationship like theirs. “A love that survives highs and lows, that builds a family and a home, that starts out strong and grows even more beautiful each year.”

      “Or they’re brand-new lovers. Just met each other this afternoon.”

      Oops, she hadn’t meant to speak her thoughts out loud. Lucky he’d thought she was talking about the couple on the beach, not revealing her own dreams, or she might’ve spoiled the mood.

      She replayed his words—such a different perspective from her own. “New lovers? Why not? This is a magical place.”

      What else could explain the force that had brought her together with this man? They’d met only an hour or two ago, at the special beach she’d discovered on the last day of her holiday. Only magic could have brought sensible Suzanne from Vancouver, Canada, to the adventure of a lifetime.

      She sighed with pleasure, watching the sun glint off the froth that tipped the lazy waves. Never would she forget this afternoon. This man. Almost, she wished she knew his name, where he came from, what he did. But those were mundane details. They didn’t belong in a magical fantasy.

      His hand cupped her breast, his finger circling her nipple. Then his thumb and finger squeezed gently, and the tension between her legs built again.

      “‘Magical,’” he repeated. “Good word. That’s how it felt when I saw you walking toward me.”

      She nodded, remembering.

      Bathing suit wrapped in a beach towel, sandals dangling from one finger, toes flirting with the lapping waves, she’d been walking into the sun. Her sunglasses were forgotten back at the restaurant, so her eyes squinted to see who was coming toward her. Feeling a little tipsy, more than a little self-conscious about being, for the first time in her life, naked in a public place. But everyone was; that’s why she’d taken off her bikini. That, and the same wine-induced courage that had led her to venture onto a nude beach.

      Already a few people had strolled past her, exchanging casual greetings, but she’d felt something different when this man came toward her out of the sunshine. A kind of spark, an energy that seemed to arc between them. Cretan magic.

      As he’d moved closer, she realized how tall he was. So tall he made her feel almost petite, an unusual feeling for a girl who was five-foot-ten in bare feet. Then he stopped in front of her, head blocking the sun, and for the first time she saw him clearly. Her heart pounded as fast as if she’d jogged a mile under the hot sun. He was a statue of a Greek god come to life—except with sexy dreads and much better endowed!

      Now his voice was a mesmerizing murmur as he said, “It was as if you were coming toward me out of a dream.”

      Yes, the whole afternoon, since she’d finished the second carafe of wine at that long, lazy, outdoor lunch, had the feel of a dream. Every girl’s erotic fantasy. And yet, the body beneath her was hard and sweaty, her knees were beginning to tremble from tiredness, the scent in her nostrils was one her imagination couldn’t possibly have conjured.

      This was real.

      Deep inside, her muscles convulsed and she tightened around him.

      He groaned, a rough, masculine sound that made her clench again.

      He stroked his fingers down the center of her body. Chin, throat, between her collarbones. Tracing her cleavage, gliding to her navel. And below. She arched back, the movement thrusting her hips forward.

      He surged upward, catching her off guard as he plunged deep, and she cried out.

      “They’ll hear you,” he warned.

      Still, she couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure.

      “What are they doing now? The people on the beach?” he demanded.

      How could she focus on anything but the sensations he was creating? “One of the gay guys—”

      She gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth as he gripped her hips and pulled СКАЧАТЬ