Champagne Rules

APHRODISIA

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

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Copyright © 2006 by Susan Lyons

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First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: February 2006

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Printed in the United States of America

To Mom and Ted,

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

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.” 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 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 her down, tight against him. “He’s reading aloud to the other.”

“What’s he reading?”

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.