She's On Top. Susan LyonsЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” he said grudgingly, then got to his feet. “I’ll head home then.”
She stood too, then picked up the jeweler’s box. The diamond sparkled up at her before she closed the box and handed it to Al.
It really was a lovely ring; she could see why it was so popular. And in a way it was kind of sweet how he’d chosen it, figuring he’d have the best chance of pleasing her by picking a favorite design.
It was so typically Al. He was a steady, practical, considerate man. The kind of guy who’d make a perfect husband and father.
Perfect, if only there’d been a dash of romance and a spark of passion between them, she thought as he gave her a quick, dry good-night kiss at her door.
Lips, soft yet insistent, pressed against hers, urging her to open for him.
Rina sighed against them, then his tongue was stroking her lips, sweeping into her mouth. She answered him, hunger flooding her body as their kisses grew more demanding and passionate.
His mouth left hers and she moaned at the loss.
But then she felt his fingers tracing the lines of her face, her neck. Down to mold her breasts, caress them, gently squeeze her nipples.
She moaned again, as each touch sent echoes of sensation coursing to her pussy.
The room was dark; she couldn’t see him. Yet she knew who he was.
His fingers drifted down her stomach and now he created magic no other man ever could. The soft curve of her belly was the keyboard, and he the pianist. Playing a melody that was a private, very sensual message between them.
And then his fingers played lower, across her mons and down to her inner thighs. She spread her legs eagerly, craving his touch.
Those quick, deft fingertips darted across her vulva, and she could no longer tell whether he was playing a tune or simply playing her. His mouth was there too, licking, sucking, blowing soft air across her hot, damp flesh. Her aching flesh.
Her body was so full of amazing sensations, all centered around his touch. She was an instrument and he a master musician, playing her to perfection.
She heard a sound, a keening sound, and realized it came from her own throat. Need, hunger, the peaking of desire as it built higher and higher. The sexy melody was reaching a crescendo.
His fingers played faster, driving her wild, driving her to breaking point.
Rina climaxed with an earthy cry of satisfaction.
And woke up.
Damn! Why had she been dreaming of him?
On Monday evening, Rina parked her car and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. As usual, her hair was a mass of unruly black curls, not comb friendly. Her olive-toned skin looked pale; her summer tan was fading, and a couple of nights of near sleeplessness had taken their toll. She scrubbed her fingers across her cheeks to bring up some color, then hauled herself out of her old silver Honda. An autumn nip to the air made her pull her fringed burgundy pashmina close around her shoulders, over her black top and calf-length skirt.
As she climbed the steps leading to Kalypso Ouzeria, a Greek restaurant above Vancouver’s busy Robson Street, her heart quickened with anticipation. For two days, all through the toss-and-turn nights and the clarinet squeals and piano poundings of her students, she’d been puzzling over her dilemma. And the bottom line she’d reached was, I’ll wait for Monday. It’s Awesome Foursome night.
If anyone in the world could help her figure out what to do, it was her three best friends.
At the top of the stairs, the theme song from Zorba the Greek greeted her. She glanced around the restaurant—past dark wood tables, Greek paintings and hangings, trailing plants—up to the seating area by the windows. And there they were, Suzanne and Ann and Jenny.
She rushed over. As the others looked up, she burst out with her news. “Al proposed!”
“Oh my God!” Suzanne Brennan leaped up to hug her. “The first of us to get engaged.”
“Rina, that’s amazing.” Ann Montgomery sprang up and joined in.
“Let’s see the rock,” Jenny Yuen said, flinging herself into the group hug.
A waitress appeared, with middle-aged laugh lines and a big smile. “Champagne? Did I overhear there’s cause to celebrate?”
Rina took a step back. “No champagne! Definitely not.” She glanced around at the three familiar faces and one unfamiliar one. “I haven’t accepted. I have to think it over.”
“If you have to think—” the waitress started, then broke off. “Oops, sorry. Just wave me over when you’re ready to order.”
Rina realized that other diners and staff were staring at her and her friends. She flushed. “This is embarrassing. Let’s sit down.” She sank into a chair and slowly the others did the same, puzzled expressions on their faces.
Ann handed her a glass of red wine. “Are you all right?”
Rina nodded. Except, she wasn’t, not really. In her dream, she’d have been thrilled to bits to tell the entire world she was engaged and to have everyone fuss over her. But now, nothing felt right. She took a sip of her wine and gazed around at three concerned faces.
Jenny leaned forward, shampoo-commercial black hair falling sleekly on either side of her face. “Rina, what’s wrong? I thought everything was going great with Al.”
Rina nodded again, more vigorously, and her dangly earrings tinkled like miniature wind chimes. “It has been. But I wasn’t expecting a proposal.”
Ann touched her hand. Her hazel eyes were full of concern. “You like him, but he’s moving too fast?”
“He says, if something’s right, then do it. Why wait?”
“To make sure.” Suzanne leaned on her forearms, wavy blond hair falling over her shoulders, green eyes flashing. “Like with me and Jaxon.”
Suzanne was a vet student in Vancouver, and her lawyer boyfriend lived in San Francisco. Far enough apart that they only got to see each other every two or three weeks, for a weekend.
“Suzie Q’s right.” Jenny leaned forward too. “Every relationship is complicated; there are always so many issues. You need to see if you can work stuff out. If your feelings for each other grow.” She winked. “If the sex gets better and better or fizzles out.” She gestured with one graceful hand—going up, curving over a hump, then zooming down with a “whee-oooooops.”
“Issues,” Rina said thoughtfully. Suzanne and Jaxon had issues of geography, though thank heavens no one was making a big deal of the fact she was Caucasian and he was African-American.
The race issues were Jenny and Scott’s. Her Chinese-Canadian family hated her dating a white firefighter, and his German-Canadian farming family was no keener about a white-collar journalist of Asian descent.
And then there was Ann and Adonis. Until a few weeks ago, Ann had been a workaholic lawyer. Now she and her new guy, a laid-back massage therapist, were trying to find a lifestyle that worked for both of them.
Hmm. Rina’d been envious of the girls, having hot sex with amazing men, but the truth was, they also had serious complications to deal with. “You know, Al and I don’t have any issues. We’re compatible. We’ve never argued about anything.”
In fact, the only subject they’d disagreed on was whether they were ready to get engaged.
Ann ran a hand through her tawny hair. “Remember when I was stewing about Adonis and David? You told me to close my eyes and figure out what I really felt about each of them. Have you done that about Al?”
“I’ve