Champagne Rules (14 page)

If he asked, he’d spoil the mood. Surely if Suzanne wanted more from him, she’d say something. She was the one who had chosen to break their self-imposed separation. He’d love to see her again—if he could keep his job under control.

The second half-liter carafe of wine was almost empty when she said, “You’re flying back tomorrow?”

“In the morning.” He thought of explaining that he still had a ton of work to do, but he didn’t want to be the first to raise such a dull subject.

He wondered what she’d be doing—and how she’d spent today. Maybe work, shopping with a friend? Could have seen another lover, for all he knew. Perhaps even a husband. She’d said she was single and she didn’t wear a ring, but he only had her word for it.

No, he had her personality. Sexy Suzanne couldn’t be married. She was far too wild and free. He couldn’t imagine her ever being tied down in a marriage.

Her long lashes brushed her cheeks as she gazed into her wineglass. Then they fluttered upward and her green eyes stared levelly into his. “Are we playing by the same rules this time, Jaxon? Champagne rules?”

He tensed. This was a test, and he wasn’t sure of the right answer. “I . . . I suppose so.” He studied her face, which gave nothing away, and stumbled on. “I mean, nothing’s changed. Has it?”

She gazed at him for a long moment, then smiled. “Great sex and no commitment? No, nothing’s changed.”

Unexpectedly, he felt sad. But why? This was what he wanted. A sexual interlude with no consequences other than a scramble to catch up with work. Not a relationship. He couldn’t handle a relationship, and sure as hell wasn’t going to set himself up for another failure. But sex? Hell, yeah.

“It’s not exactly a conventional relationship,” he said.

“That’s for sure. Not conventional, humdrum, mundane. It’s special.”

He reached for her hand. “So maybe that’s our pact. We can taste champagne more than once every four years, but we can’t let it get mundane. How does that sound?”

She studied his face. “Four years is way too long, I agree. And mundane is definitely a bad thing.” She gave a mock shudder. “One day I’ll do that. Marriage, kids, the whole ball of wax, just like my parents and sister.”

It was the last thing he’d expected. “Really? You see yourself getting married?” A mermaid who’d lost—no, given up?—

her tail. He almost shook his head because he just couldn’t see it. Her eyes widened slightly, and he had the sense she’d said more than she had intended to. She shrugged carelessly. “Maybe. Who knows? It’s years off. For now, I’m young and alive, I want to have fun, and you’re a wonderful playmate.”

“You too. And I sure know what you mean, about being young, having fun, not getting serious.” In a way, he was glad he’d been married. The lessons he’d learned had come hard, but now he knew his own limitations. He sure didn’t see any wedding bells in his future, not if he wanted that huge corner office with SENIOR PARTNER on the door.

Ceremoniously, Suzanne poured out the last of the wine, giving him the bulk of it, then lifted her glass. “A toast, then.”

He raised his glass too.

“To the Champagne Rules.” She clicked her glass to his.

“Rules to have sex by.”

He chuckled, and echoed, “The Champagne Rules.” He lifted his glass in a salute, then drank the wine in one long swallow. Across the table her hair was a tumbled mass of gold and copper threads, her eyes sparkled like emeralds, her smile made his whole body throb. Tonight, having hours to study her features, he’d seen a more mature woman than the one he remembered. Her face had lost its roundness and her features were stronger, more pronounced. As well as being beautiful, her face showed character.

He found himself wanting to know her better—to know who she was when she wasn’t being a sex goddess. But asking might violate their new set of rules.

Yeah, of course it would. Right now, they shared the perfect fantasy. A fantasy wouldn’t survive their trading details about their day-to-day lives.

He heard a scuffling sound under the table and suddenly her bare foot was in his lap, her toes probing his crotch. He sucked in a breath as, predictably, his penis sprang to immediate attention. Suzanne gave a purr of satisfaction.

Trying to sound cool, he said, “Okay, I had no objection when you used your fingers and your tongue, but your toes?”

She grinned, her eyes alive with mischief. “You’d rather I climbed under the table and used my tongue?”

Oh yeah!

He was almost tempted to call her bluff. Then he thought, this was Suzanne, she might very well do it. He frowned slightly. Was he keeping up his end? She wanted an exciting man, an adventuresome one. Not a guy who simply tagged along, following her lead.

Tonight, he had to be the one to come up with something new—and outrageous—to try. But how could a guy think, with Suzanne’s toes tickling his package?

“Damn it, woman, let’s get the bill and head out!”

Outside, the night was balmy. He didn’t know the city well enough to suggest an activity—like perhaps going dancing at some dark, sexy club. Damn, he should have asked the concierge at his hotel for suggestions, but he’d been so caught up in work it hadn’t occurred to him.

Crap. He just wasn’t cut out to be Mr. Sexy. As he pulled the Porsche key from his pocket, Jax thought about how much wine they’d drunk. Or, at least, he had. She was a sipper, and he’d put away more than his fair share. Back in San Fran he rarely drove, so he wasn’t used to having to worry about drinking and driving. He paused by the car. He didn’t feel impaired—except by lust—but no question he was over the legal limit. He wasn’t about to endanger lives, much less his law career. “Feel like a stroll?”

“Sure. It’s such a nice evening.”

Arms linked, they headed down the block, quickly finding themselves in a residential area. On a summer Saturday night, many windows and doors were open. Light streamed out, accented by the sound of voices, music and TV programs. A few kids on bikes or roller blades streaked past, and occasionally an older couple walked by, or a young couple with a baby in a stroller.

This was the kind of traditional life Suzanne had talked about, when she said that one day she might get married. Could he imagine her as part of this scene? His immediate reaction was no. But how could he say, when he barely knew her?

The women inside those windows didn’t have sex on the beach at Spanish Banks. They worked all day, gave their husbands flak if they came home late from the office, spent their evenings chauffeuring kids to activities or helping with homework, and probably fell into bed too tired to have sex. Hard to imagine Suzanne ever being too tired for sex. Jax’s arm was around her waist and his hand nudged the underside of her breast. It was getting late and the streets were quieting down. He curved his hand upward and teased her nipple to alertness. Her body snuggled closer, and she hooked a couple of fingers under the waistband of his pants. She’d said she was wearing a thong.

Ever since she’d told him that bit of information, hours ago, the thought had been in the back of his mind. Now he checked to make sure there was no one else on the sidewalk, then slid his hand under her short skirt and cupped her naked butt. Her hand made an advance of its own, sliding front and center, gripping his erection through his underwear. He upped the ante, letting a finger trace the thin strip of thong down between her buttocks, to where the silk was damp with the dew of her arousal.

They were on a public sidewalk in a residential neighborhood. Where the hell was he going to take it from here?

Perhaps more to the point, where would daring Suzanne take it?

“Oh look,” she said. “An adventure playground.” She broke free and darted away.

He followed her into a schoolyard. The area was unlit but he could make out the colorful playground equipment and a wooden fort.

She plunked down on a swing and he went behind her to push, catching her waist each time she came back, holding her, lifting her, then releasing her to soar high. When she tired of swinging, she eluded his hands and climbed the ladder to the slide. He positioned himself at the bottom to catch her, and she slid into his arms. He held her body tight against his. It was dark here, with the sun already set and the playground unlit.

He stole a long, breathtaking kiss.

Then he remembered it was his turn to take the lead, to find some new, audacious way to make out. He glanced around, then tugged on her hand. He led her to a wooden structure and climbed the ladder. “Come on up.”

They stood on a kind of tower, with a sagging wooden bridge leading to another tower. He started to walk out on the bridge, feeling it sway up and down with each step. The motion reminded him of lovemaking. He beckoned her to follow, then caught her in his arms and, flexing his knees, made the bridge bounce a little.

He kissed her, gently at first, feeling their bodies slide against each other with the bridge’s hypnotic rhythm. Her mouth opened to his and she invited him in. But when she tried to tighten her arms around him, he eased away slightly, glancing around to ensure they were alone. The dark playground was screened from the street by a row of broad, leafy trees. He undid his belt buckle and unfastened his pants, sliding them and his briefs down his hips and letting them pool around his ankles.

Suzanne pressed close, setting that bouncing motion going again, sliding her body against him in a tantalizing friction. He wanted to lift her up, hike up her skirt and imbed himself inside her, but his balance was too unstable on the swinging wooden bridge. Instead, he tongued her ear as wickedly as he knew how and whispered, “Lie down.”

Quickly she obeyed and he kneeled between her legs, helping her tug her miniskirt up to her waist. In the dim light, her pale skin almost glowed, clad only in a scrap of black lace. Optimistically, he’d tossed a couple of condoms in his pocket, but hadn’t been on the ball enough to get anything more interesting than his regular style. “Got any other fancy condoms in your purse?”

“I’m tempted by glow in the dark, but that might not be a wise move. How d’you feel about ribs and dots?”

Oh yeah, trust Suzanne. “I think those ones are more about how you feel,” he teased. “Sure, sixty-nine, go for it.”

Besides, this discussion and her fumbled search of her purse gave him a chance to cool down. Maybe for once he could last longer than sixty seconds.

Jax sheathed himself, then eased down, trying not to rest too much of his weight on her.

He kissed her again, thrusting gently against the band of silk between her legs, teasing her through the thin barrier. The bridge reflected his motion, swaying up and down. He reached a hand between their bodies, his fingers stroking her through the silk, heading for her clit. She moaned into his mouth. “Inside, I want you inside me.”

And suddenly, he had to be there. He didn’t have time to slide the thong panties down her legs. Instead he pushed the silk aside and found her entrance, easing her open, and thrust into her moist heat.

Her hips lifted to meet him as he filled her, and the bridge bounced harder. He and Suzanne plunged together as the bridge fell, then rose, its rhythm fueling their passion. One day, he wanted to make love to this woman slowly, taking more than a couple of minutes. But this wasn’t going to be the time. The night air brushed his naked lower body and he felt outrageous himself, thrusting into Suzanne in a deserted playground in the middle of a nice middle-class neighborhood. Dimly he was aware of the sound of a television from across the street, behind the fringe of trees. A car drove by, its headlights piercing the darkness, then disappearing again, reminding him that anyone could come along. Someone might choose this very moment to walk their dog in the park. Teenagers might come to neck in the darkness, and find him and Suzanne, making out like they were crazed adolescents themselves. The notion of being caught like this was more tantalizing than frightening. He smothered a groan, then realized there wasn’t much point to keeping quiet. The bridge creaked and jangled with each bounce.

Suzanne was panting against his neck, hot and quick, and he knew she was close too. What an amazing lover she was, always matching him when it came to passion.

“Jaxon!” Her voice was a whisper, a sob, a demand, against his neck.

He found her mouth and poured his passion into it, just as he thrust deeper, harder between her slick, heated thighs. Inside him, his climax was building to the point of no return. He reached between their bodies, fingered her swollen bud and she gasped into his mouth. Her body clenched, holding still for a long, frozen moment. Then she spasmed, throbbed, pulsed around him, and he let loose, plunging into her, joining their bodies in the moment of orgasm.

It took all his will power to keep from collapsing on top of her.

As he slowly regained his senses, he realized what he’d done. 

After wanting to show Suzanne what a sexy, worldly guy he was, he’d ended up humping her like a horny teenager in a playground. He couldn’t help it, he just had to laugh. The chuckle started down in his belly and built as it rose in his body, until it finally rumbled out of his mouth. Still trying to catch his breath after the frantic sex, he gasped and guffawed. And then Suzanne began to laugh too.

When they finally calmed down, he touched his lips to hers.

“You’re one hell of a sexy lady. But I swear, one of these days you’re going to get us arrested.”

She tapped his shoulder. “May I remind you, this one was your idea?”

He grinned proudly. “You were the inspiration.”

Another car drove down the street, and lights flashed again. This time the car stopped, rather than driving by.

“Stay still,” he murmured. “They won’t see us.”

Lights strobed from the parked car, piercing the darkness of the playground.

“Keep down!” he hissed. “I bet it’s teenagers.”

The lights pinpointed them and he groaned. “They won’t believe their luck.”

The car doors opened and, for a long minute, the interior light illuminated enough of the scene for Jax to realize—“My God, it’s the police!”

“What?” she yelped.