Champagne Rules Read Free Page B

Suzanne. It was Jenny Yuen who’d launched the topic, with her description of hot sex in her boyfriend Pete’s double Jacuzzi. “It was the best sex of my life!” she’d exclaimed, brown eyes flashing. “I swear, Korean men beat Chinese, hands down.”
    “Ssh,” Suzanne had said, used to the fact that Jenny’s personality was twice the size of her petite body, but wishing she didn’t always have to be quite so out there. She wished she’d kept quiet, though, when Jenny turned the question on her.
    “I, um . . .” Best sex? Suzanne barely suppressed a nervous giggle. That would have to be with her dream lover. Jenny rolled her eyes, turned a pink sweatshirted back to Suzanne, and said to Rina Goldberg, “So, what’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”
    “Not with Marty, that’s for sure.” Tonight, at the Awesome Foursome’s regular Monday dinner, Rina had already told them she’d called it quits with the man she’d been seeing for the last several months. Her heart definitely didn’t seem broken.
    “The best sex,” she murmured. Looking like a gypsy with a fringed burgundy shawl over her usual black clothing, she pulled a wayward lock of curly black hair behind a multi-ringed ear as she sipped her second margarita and considered the question. The others waited, munching from the platter of nachos locos—laden with everything yummy and fattening you could possibly imagine—and working on their own second margaritas. Rina began to smile, and nodded her head firmly. “Yeah, I know exactly . The summer I turned eighteen, I went to a music school in Banff. There was this other student, Giancarlo, from Italy. He was a pianist and he had the most awesome hands.”
    The others oohed and aahed as Rina described the things Giancarlo had done with those hands, including making her come three times in a row atop the grand piano in a student rehearsal room. Somewhere during the recitation, a third round of margaritas got ordered for everyone but Suzanne, who had a strict two-drink limit.
    When Rina finished, Jenny turned to Ann Montgomery.
    “Your turn,” she said, talking around a guacamole-and-sourcream laden chip.
    “You know I’m a conventional gal.” But Ann’s eyes were twinkling. “I’m not much into Jacuzzis or pianos. I like big, comfy beds. And a man who wears a tie.”
    “A tie? Bo-ring,” Jenny scoffed.
    “Not when there are four of them, all silk, and they’re tying you to a four-poster bed.”
    “Bondage?” Suzanne frowned. “Ann, that’s—”
    “No, no!” Ann held up a hand to stop her. “I totally consented. And they were tied really loosely. He made slow, beautiful love to me, and all I could do was respond.”
    Jenny gave a skeptical frown. “I can’t imagine you surrendering control to anyone. You’re the control freak to end all control freaks.”
    Ann stuck her tongue out, then shrugged. “Okay, I concede your point. And yes, it surprised me too.” She smoothed her short brown hair and straightened her shoulders inside the jacket of her navy suit. “I’ve never come so hard in my life. It was a little . . . scary.”
    As Suzanne glanced around the table, she thought how lucky she was to have found these women. They’d met last year at an introductory yoga course. The bonding began when, after the second lesson, they decided food, chat and alcohol were far better tension relievers than contorting their bodies into pretzel shapes. The four didn’t have a lot in common, but that made the conversations even more stimulating. Strong ties of friendship had formed, and now the Foursome members were deeply loyal to each other and their Monday nights. She stopped feeling lucky when Jenny turned to her with an evil grin. “Didn’t think we’d forget you, did you, Suze?”
    Oh God, after her friends’ sexy tales, how pitiful to have to confess that her own sex life ranged between boring and nonexistent. Except for her cave-sex lover.
    The thought sent a thrill of