Champagne Rules (29 page)

“Like there’s any chance I wouldn’t?”

She hooked her fingers in the waistband. “Off now.” He lifted his hips and she eased the boxers down his legs and tossed them on the deck.

“You too. Take the thong off.”

She obliged, then lay back.

“I want to be inside you, Suzanne.”

“Hurry.” She parted her legs and he moved between them. The tip of his cock pressed against her, tantalizing her. Then he found her entrance, eased inside and her body stretched to accommodate him. She gave a sigh of pure pleasure and he swallowed it with a kiss. When, finally, he filled her, he withdrew slowly, almost all the way out. And then he slid back in and she pressed tight against him. Excitement built within her and she let it, guessing that he’d climax soon, not wanting to be left behind. But Jaxon fooled her. He held on to his control and she lost track of how long the dance went on. Slow and easy, he’d promised, and man, did he deliver. Each time one of them neared the edge, he stopped moving, kissed her forehead, her nose, let them catch their breaths. And then he began again. 

The exquisite tension was almost unbearable. She felt arousal peak again, and whimpered.

“Do you want to come?” he asked.

“N-no. Not until we do it together.” If he could play this waiting game, so could she.

He held still, his body poised over hers, and dropped a kiss on her chin. Over his shoulder she counted stars, waiting as her body calmed.

And then he started up once more.

Their bodies were slick with sweat and she felt so swollen inside that the friction, each time he moved, was unbelievable. The sensation was so much more intense than the times they’d made love with a condom. When he slid out, it felt like he was pulling her with him. And then he thrust forward again, plunging deep into her center, touching places she’d never knew existed. Her lover. Her perfect lover.

She ran her hands down his back, stroking his taut muscles, curving to squeeze his hard buttocks, feeling the muscles clench as he thrust into her.

He stopped suddenly, his whole body taut. “I can’t hold out much longer,” he gasped.

“Don’t,” she whispered in his ear.

“It’s so good. I don’t want it to end.”

She touched the tip of her tongue to his ear. “All good things—”

“Oh Christ!” he groaned. His body pulled back from hers and then he surged forward. Then he did it again, his rhythm picking up, each stroke hard and demanding, faster and faster. Her body responded to the feverish pace. A prisoner of sensation, her whole being concentrated in that place where their bodies came together, where he pounded into her, where it was no longer possible to separate one of them from the other because they were so completely joined, where pleasure was sweet agony and—

He came with a desperate thrust, a wrenching groan, and she felt his essence jet into her even as her own body spasmed helplessly around him.

“Jaxon!” she cried, burying her mouth in his shoulder. How could anything feel so absolutely right?

And again she had the thought:
This lovemaking should cre-
ate a child.

It was crazy. Yet the idea, like their joining, felt immutably right.

His body was heavy on hers, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Her own chest heaved too, and she enjoyed the sweaty press of her soft breasts against his hard muscles. So perfectly female and male.

He kissed her cheek. “I’ve never come so hard in my life. You’re amazing, Suzanne.”

“It takes two.”

“That’s definitely the best way.” Then he said, “Afraid I wasn’t so quiet. Hope none of your neighbors heard.”

“It’s late. They’ll all have gone in.” She hoped it was true, or poor Ann’s reputation would be ruined.

“Good. I wouldn’t want anyone calling the cops.” His chest pulsed against her as he laughed.

“Once is enough,” she agreed.

He heaved his body off her and collapsed on the other cushion. “I can’t believe we’re in the heart of the city. Lying out here, naked under the stars.”

“It’s a good city, Vancouver.”

“So you’re teaching me.”

She realized that, without his hot weight, she felt chilled.

“It’s cooling off. Want to go inside? Have a cup of coffee?”

“Sounds great.” He stretched and began to rise. “I haven’t had any coffee for, oh, it must be at least seven hours. That’s got to be a record.”

He stood above her, naked. She lay, enjoying the view, until he extended a hand and pulled her to her feet.

“You’re an addict, are you?” she said.

“Seems like I live on it, some days. And the coffee at the office isn’t even that good.”

She picked up the collection of silk that decorated the balcony. “Want high-test, or something decadent like a latte with hazelnut syrup?” Knowing Ann had an espresso machine, she’d brought some fancy fixings.

He chuckled, a sound as dark and rich as the finest coffee.

“Decadent? I just had you.”

Inside, she put on her new robe and handed him the boxers.

“If I’m going to turn a light on, we should be at least halfclothed. Much as I hate to see you cover up all of those yummy attributes.”

He pulled on the shorts and she said, “You’re not so tentative as the first time you did that.”

“Okay, I admit it. Silk feels good. I could get used to this.”

They decided on lattes, and took the coffees into the living room.

Jaxon settled into a corner of the couch and gave a satisfied sigh. “Here it is, eleven on a Saturday night and I’m sitting around in silk underwear, drinking a fancy latte, having just made love with the sexiest woman alive.”

She curled up beside him. “Life is good?”

“Life is damn good. Normally, I’d still be at the office.”

“Do you really have to work so hard?”

“Sure do.”

“What would happen if you didn’t?” At his puzzled look, she went on. “I mean, would they fire you?”

He laughed. “Not likely. But I wouldn’t make partner.” He sipped coffee, made an appreciative sound, then put the cup down. “When you join a firm, there’s three ways you can go. Out, quickly, because you can’t cut it or you don’t like the place. Up the partnership track, and that’s where I’m headed. Or you can stay an associate. Every firm needs associates; not everyone can be a partner.”

“What’s the difference between an associate and a partner?”

She had a good idea from Ann, but wanted to hear Jaxon’s thoughts.

“Partners do more prestigious work, have a higher billing rate, have a voice in decisions that affect the firm. They make more money, have more status. The people who make partner are the ambitious ones. Some of the associates are as bright, they’re as good lawyers, but they aren’t ambitious. They’re content to stay in the middle of the pack.”

“And you’re not.”

He shook his head firmly. “That’s not why Mom brought me to America.”

Suzanne tilted her head. “I’m sure she brought you because she wanted a better way of life, more opportunity, for you, but . . . Would she really be disappointed if you didn’t make partner?”

He gave her a level gaze. “That’s not going to happen. I will make partner. Faster than any associate’s ever done it before.”

“But . . .” That hadn’t been her question. Should she pursue this? She decided to go at it from another angle. “Do you see her often?”

“Not as much as I’d like, I’m so busy, but she’s my next priority after work. She understands.”

His mom came after his career. But then, it sounded like the career thing was partly to fulfill his mom’s hopes for him.

“I bet she’s really proud of you. Proud of what you’ve accomplished. Even if you didn’t become a partner.”

He shook his head. “Suzanne, you don’t get it. I’ve got this game plan. I’ve had it since I was in elementary school. I learned what Americans value in a man. Career success. Power. Money. That’s what I’m aiming for.”

“There are more important things.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Such as?”

She winced at his condescending tone. “Family, friends. Health. Living a balanced life. Gaining your sense of selfesteem from within yourself, rather than from what others think of you.”

“I have plenty of self-esteem,” he said coolly. Damn. She didn’t want to argue, just for them to discuss this. “Good,” she said, trying to sound warm and approving.

“So what does it matter whether people think you’re a major success or only a minor success?”

“It matters,” he said grimly. “People’s opinions matter. As a woman, you ought to know that. You’re a member of a disadvantaged minority too.”

Why hadn’t she realized before? “This is about being black.”

“Damn. It’s about . . . being a man.”

A man? Was he implying her father was less of a man because he’d never aimed for status and wealth? “Yes, it is,” she said, hearing the edge of anger in her voice, but unable to hold back. “It’s about what kind of man you want to be. A workaholic who has
sycophants
rather than friends, people fawning over him because he has money and power? Or a man with family and friends who love him, who has a career that means something?”

His hands were locked around his coffee cup and he didn’t reply.

Was he mad, or just reflecting? She wished he’d say something. Maybe she should leave this alone, but it was important. Besides, this was the guy whose role model was Thurgood Marshall. 

She’d looked the man up, after their last conversation, and realized what a huge influence he’d had on civil liberties in the States.

“Sorry,” she said, “I overreacted. I don’t think I really understand what you’re saying.”

“It’s not that complicated. I want to make it to the top.”

But what did
the top
mean to him? “You said your area of law is litigation?” she asked. “Like, those big class-action suits?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you represent people who are fighting against injustices?”

“No, I represent the companies who are being sued. Often by a bunch of troublemakers.”

She frowned. “I don’t follow.”

He put his cup down. “It’s a litigious society, right? People are jumping on the bandwagon, wanting to make a buck off the system. I have a case right now that’s a perfect example. You know the Family Friend chain of stores? They’re being sued by a bunch of employees who can’t hack it in the real world, who can’t compete, so they cry discrimination in hopes Family Friend will pay just to shut them up.”

He sounded so harsh. And yet, maybe she could see where he was coming from. His mother had no doubt faced all sorts of obstacles, but she’d kept her pride rather than whining that she had been discriminated against. Still, if there truly was discrimination, an employer shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. Employees shouldn’t have to suck it up and keep quiet. And it was more than just a moral issue—discrimination was illegal.

“So,” she said tentatively, “are you saying the employees were or weren’t discriminated against?”

“My client says no. That’s the case I’ll present.”

“Don’t you care about the truth?”

He snorted. “You’re being naïve. Law isn’t about the truth, it’s about who has the best case, which typically means the best lawyer. Family Friend has me, a damned good lawyer who’s going to work his tail off for them, who has the resources of a major firm to draw on. The plaintiffs have the NAACP.” He paused. “That’s—”

“The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People,” she said softly.

“Yeah. Surprised you know that.”

“Thurgood Marshall worked for them. I looked him up. He fought against racial discrimination.”

She leaned forward. “Your hero, Jaxon. He was on the other side.”

“He . . . Crap, Suzanne, you don’t understand the legal system. You just don’t get it.”

“I guess I don’t,” she said bitterly. Here she’d thought Jaxon was one of the good guys working to make the world a better place.

He picked up his cup, then put it down again and said, in a tight voice, “We aren’t going to agree on this. We have different backgrounds, and they’ve shaped our goals.”

That was true. What right did she have to judge?

None. Just the right to feel sad that he wasn’t the man she’d hoped he would be.

She swallowed hard and touched his arm, tentatively.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s not my business anyhow.”

He didn’t move away, but nor did he touch her. “No, it’s not.”

She took her hand off his arm.

They sat side by side in silence for a few moments, then he stood. “It’s late.”

“Yes.” She stood too, wrapping the robe around her and tightening the sash as he got dressed.

She walked with him to the door. He looked down at her and she looked up, and neither said a word. Was this good-bye?

she wondered. How had tonight gone from so right to all wrong, so quickly?

Maybe she should let it go, yet she’d felt so close to him, earlier.

“Jaxon? We’re both upset, but people disagree all the time. Politics, religion, whatever. Remember the Champagne Rules?

How we said we’d keep things light and fun, not get into daily grind stuff like jobs? I guess we were right.”

His face softened. “We lost track of our own Rules. That was stupid.”

“Let’s not let one quarrel spoil things.”

Slowly, he nodded. “That would be even more stupid. So, what do you think? We’d talked about a picnic tomorrow. Want to try it, or do we take some time to cool down?”

If they didn’t see each other tomorrow, they wouldn’t know if they could put things back together. Better to find out. Slowly, she said, “You’re in town, so let’s get together. I promise I won’t talk about work.” Or anything else meaningful.

“We’ll go back to the original bargain.”

“Just sex.” She forced a smile. “When we stick to sex, we do pretty well.”

He smiled too. “We sure do.” He touched her cheek, and lifted a curl of hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

She caught his hand and pressed it to her lips. Then, slowly and deliberately, she took his middle finger into her mouth and sucked on it. When she released him, she whispered, “Tomorrow.”

But the moment the door closed behind him, she ran to Ann’s bedroom and flung herself on the bed, tears sliding down her cheeks as she mourned the loss of something that had barely begun.