Champagne Rules (11 page)

“I’m not”—she sucked in a breath as his finger invaded her slick heat—“denying it,” she choked out.

Suzanne reached for his penis, obviously deciding two could play this game. Jax didn’t care. The great thing was, it didn’t matter who won.

She caressed his length, then pulled away from his probing finger. Leaning down, she gathered a handful of water, then brought her hand back to his erection. He gasped at the shock of cold water against his heat.

When she dropped to her knees, he winced at the thought of the freezing water, the rough sand and pebbles biting into her flesh. But he didn’t pull her up. He had to find out what she was going to do.

She bathed him again with icy water, then leaned forward and took him in her mouth. Her very hot mouth. His hands came down on her shoulders, gripping convulsively. “Jesus, Suzanne,” he hissed. “You can’t—” He broke off as she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. Oh man. She could.

She sucked, swished her tongue around some more, nibbled with her lips, scraped her teeth ever so gently against his aching flesh, cupped his balls in her hands. Then she released him and gathered another handful of water. When she splashed him, his body bucked involuntarily, and it did again when she once more applied her mouth and hands.

His hips began to move as he thrust into her mouth. He forced himself to hold back, giving her only as much of his length as she could handle. But even that was too much for him and he could feel his body tightening, gathering itself, preparing to surge heedlessly toward orgasm. He yanked on her shoulders. “Come here.”

When she released him, he dragged her to her feet and into his arms. His body trembled as he struggled for control. “You call this skinny-dipping?” he managed to get out. She laughed, pulled free and splashed a handful of water up his chest. “I’m just getting started. You’ll see what you get for calling me chicken, mister.” She turned and plowed through the ocean, heading away from shore. When the water reached her waist, she threw herself forward and swam a few strokes. He was right behind her, almost glad when the freezing water subdued his lust. They romped, splashed, twined chilly naked limbs around each other, stole a kiss or two, until the cold drove them back to the beach.

Suzanne reached the towel first and flung herself on it, facedown. He sprawled on top of her, their bodies racked with shivers until they began to warm each other. His hard-on was growing again, and he pressed into her backside, letting his cock slip between her legs. She moaned and wriggled her butt toward him, curving it into his belly, encouraging him to slide back and forth between her thighs.

He moved her hair aside, a damp mass that covered her shoulders, smelling of salt water and some complicated mix of flowers and herbs, and kissed the nape of her neck. She tilted her head to the side and he took that as an offer to nibble her earlobe.

He slid an arm underneath her, lifting her even higher and she arched cooperatively. He fingered the folds between her legs, slippery with wet heat, and thrust a finger inside her.

“Jaxon,” she murmured, “you feel so good, but I want all of you.”

He found her female nub, in its own way as swollen as he was, and teased it, feeling his own arousal build just as if she’d been touching him.

She arched higher in a wordless demand. He eased back and positioned himself at her entrance.

And then he remembered. Protection. Damn! He hated to wait, and he hated wearing a latex sheath. He wanted to pour himself into Suzanne, to join his juices with hers. Cursing silently, he eased away and hunted for his jeans. He fumbled another condom out of his pocket and got the damned thing on, though the size he always bought now seemed too small.

Finally, he was back in place. His hand circled her waist, snugging her body close to his, and slowly he eased his way in. She was so tight, the friction so delicious, it was all he could do to maintain a slow pace.

She rose slightly, to rest her head on her folded arms, and he eased back to hold her hips, bracing himself as he moved in and out. Almost all the way out, until the night air pricked the damp flesh of his groin, then all the way back in, reaching into her center, touching her secret places.

She shifted position again, freeing one arm, and reached back to touch his shaft, to circle the base, then to fondle his balls. He plunged faster, even deeper, and her body met his, pushing back against him, opening wide to him.

She was panting, moaning a little but pressing her mouth into her arm to muffle the sound.

He was close, so close, to losing himself, his movements were getting wild, uncoordinated. He wanted to bring her with him but didn’t have much time.

Jax reached for her clit, fingered it, felt her buck under him. She moaned again, a high, wild whimper of sound, and it undid him. His balls tightened and he arched and thrust into her, finally letting go, surging into climax. Her own spasms sucked around him like waves and he wanted to shout out his pleasure but managed to hold in his cries.

With effort, he kept himself from collapsing on top of her. Gradually, her body folded down until she was lying flat on the towel, with him spread over her like a blanket. Still inside her. God how he wanted to stay there, and again he resented wearing a condom. He kissed her shoulder. “Warm enough?”

“Mmm,” she purred. “Toasty. How about you? Are you freezing your butt off?”

Now that she mentioned it, and the heat of sex was cooling, he was feeling chilled. Their adventure was coming to a close. He wanted to invite her back to his hotel room or, even better, invite himself to her place. But he sensed that was against their unspoken rules. Did either one of them really want to face the dawn together? Morning breath and the need for polite breakfast conversation? This wasn’t a conventional date, but an erotic escapade.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from murmuring in her ear,

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

She paused—long enough to make him wonder if he hadn’t satisfied her, if she had a date with someone else. Then she said,

“I’m tied up during the day, but I’m free in the evening. You’ll still be here?”

They hadn’t planned past this one night. But feeling optimistic—and horny—he’d made his return reservation for Sunday, and brought his computer and a briefcase full of work, a fact he didn’t plan to confess. “I’ll be here. What time’s good?

Want me to pick you up?”

“Hmm.” She stirred restlessly under him and he eased off. She began to sort through their clothes. “Okay, how about quarter past six, the corner of Fourth and Fir. From downtown you drive—”

“I’ll find it,” he broke in. “We’ll go for dinner?”

Another pause and he wondered if the suggestion was too unimaginative. Maybe he should’ve thought up another wild picnic. But then she said, “Sounds good. Feel like Greek?”

He grinned appreciatively. “I have a special fondness for all things Greek.”

She chuckled. “There’s a little place called Maria’s Taverna. It’s nothing fancy but the food is great.”

Dinner and conversation. What would they talk about? The more time he spent with Suzanne, the more convinced he was that this woman wouldn’t be impressed by a buttoned-down, partnership-track kind of guy.

He could make up an intriguing autobiography. No, he didn’t want to lie to her.

Wait a minute. This should be easy. Women were the ones who liked to talk. He’d just let her go on about whatever interested her, and if she slowed down, then he’d ask a few questions. Both clothed now, they got to their feet. When he stuck his hands in his pockets, he came across her bra, and handed it to her. She stowed it in the picnic basket, then bent down to retrieve the towel. After shaking and folding it, she handed it to him. “Yours, I believe.”

“You don’t mind if I keep it?”

“You’re the one who collects sex souvenirs,” she teased. Then her voice went soft, a little husky. “I like the idea of you having it.”

He hoisted the picnic basket and, arms around each other’s waists, they made their way to the parking lot.

“Your hair’s wet,” he said. “Want to put the top up on your car so you don’t get chilled?”

She stowed the basket in the trunk. “I probably should.”

She fumbled with the black top and he helped her secure it in place. Then she leaned back against the car and he leaned forward, aligning his body to hers. Her hair was a mass of tangled gold, her slender arms were cool under his hands, her nipples were hard buds against his chest. Even the artificial light of the parking lot didn’t dull the glow of her cheeks, the sparkle in her sea-green eyes. “Thanks for tonight, Suzanne. It’s been—” Try as hard as he could, the right word escaped him. Again, he’d done things with her that he couldn’t have imagined himself doing.

“Yes, it’s been that all right,” she agreed. “I’m so glad you came, Jaxon.” Then she gave a little laugh. “I mean, came to Vancouver.”

He bent down and touched his lips to hers in the gentlest of kisses. “Sleep well, outrageous69.”

“You too, caveman.” She slid into the little car, started the engine, then blew him a kiss and drove away. He stood, watching until her taillights disappeared, then slid into the sleek Porsche and found his way to the hotel. He was cold and damp, sandy and stiff—and he’d never felt better. Yeah, Suzanne had sure as hell delivered on the promise in her personal ad.

What would tomorrow night bring?

To Suzanne, it felt like Ann’s Miata flew home on autopilot. She was so absorbed in reliving the night’s adventures that she found herself pulling into her parking slot off the back alley with absolutely no recollection of the drive. She could only hope she hadn’t run any red lights.

Glad that the windows of her parents’ house were dark, she slipped into her converted-garage apartment, set down the picnic basket and headed into the bathroom for a long, luxurious shower. Much as she’d love to keep the scent, the feel, of Jaxon on her skin, the sand in her hair—and other, even less comfortable places—had to go. Oh my God, what had she done?

Had sex on a public beach with a man she barely knew. And yet, it had felt right. Amazingly right, to touch Jaxon and be touched by him.

As the water cascaded over her, she realized she was standing there with a loopy grin on her face. The man was fabulous. And with him, she was downright fabulous too. She laughed with sheer joy, and lifted her face to the shower’s spray. Tomorrow she’d see him again.

Was that wise?

Anxiety rushed in to replace the joy. And with it came the recollection that she’d promised the girls she’d phone Ann and report her safe return. It was late, but Ann had insisted she call, whatever the hour.

She dialed the familiar number. When Ann’s voice said

“Suzanne?” a little breathlessly, she said, “Yes, it’s me. Were you asleep?”

“No! Not at all. I’m fine. I mean, I’m awake.” And in fact Ann did sound remarkably wide-awake, if slightly unfocused.

“Uh, how did it go?”

“Fantastic. And I’m home safe, and alone.”

“Good.”

She was surprised and relieved that Ann didn’t press for details. By Monday, she’d probably want to share at least some of her adventure, but right now the memories were too fresh and personal. She wanted to hug them to herself.

“You’re really okay?” Ann said softly.

“I feel wonderful. I want to thank you and the others for being there.”

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Ann was sounding distinctly odd. Was she uncomfortable with her friend morphing into the sexy twin?

“We can talk about it Monday.” A self-satisfied grin snuck its way onto her lips. “Besides, there’ll be even more to tell by then.”

“What? Suze, you’re not seeing him again?”

“Tomorrow. No, I guess it’s tonight.”

There was a pause, then, “What’s the plan? Do you need backup?”

“No, we’ll be out in public.”

“Like tonight? Another dark, near-deserted place?”

Man, Ann really was stressed about this. “No,” Suzanne hurried to reassure her. “We’re going out for dinner. He’s picking me up from work. Well, not from work exactly, I’m meeting him down the block.”

“Down the block?”

“I’m trying to preserve the sexy-twin mystique. I haven’t told him about my job, school, the stuff that would ruin my image.”

“But, that’s who you are, Suze. If you’re seeing this man again, don’t you want him to know who you are?”

“No.” The answer was immediate, and it made her reflect.

“We have something special going, and I don’t want anything to spoil it. Besides, we probably won’t even see each other again, after this weekend.” She felt a twinge of regret. And yet, how long could she role-play sexy Suzanne?

“Oh Ann, I’ve done something dumb. I should have said I’d meet him later. Sure, I can take a change of clothes to work and grab a quick shower there, but how am I going to transition my psyche from vet assistant to sex goddess in under fifteen minutes?”

“You’re asking the wrong woman,” her friend said dryly.

“Okay, so he picks you up, then what’s the plan?”

Suzanne groaned. “Dinner at Maria’s.”

“What’s with the groan? Maria’s is great.”

“Yeah, the food’s terrific, the Greek atmosphere’s a good thing, but . . . It’s just a tiny neighborhood restaurant. I should have suggested—oh, I don’t know, maybe a Japanese place with tatami rooms where we could pull the screens and have some privacy to fool around.”

“You met in Greece, not Japan.”

“We had sex in Greece. That’s why Jaxon came to Vancouver. For sex, not food and chat.”

“But he agreed to dinner.”

“Actually, it was his idea.” And what did
that
mean? Maybe he did want food and chat?

Ann sighed. “Suze?”

“Mmm?”

“You’ve made the date, and it sounds safe. So don’t agonize over it.”

“I guess you’re right. Yes, sure, of course you’re right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And listen, I’m glad you’re okay. Stay safe, eh?”

Suzanne hung up. Yes, agonizing was pointless. If things went downhill from here, she’d still have terrific memories of tonight.

She put the drooping tiger lily in a bud vase, rescued her bra, stowed the contents of the picnic basket in the fridge, then took the vase and the abalone shell into the bedroom. Her two bedcats were a sleeping tangle of fur on the duvet, but Mouse gave a squeaky meow and hopped down from her desk to twine around her ankles.