Cover of the new book Touch Me by Susan Lyons; a man and women, naked, embracing

Touch Me


Warning: This excerpt contains adult content. 18 and over only, please.


“You’re not going to peel off your T-shirt?”

His wicked tone made her pause. “Peel off . . .” Her teddy wasn’t much skimpier than the underwear-style summer tops a lot of young women wore in public. “You just want to find out what I’m wearing under it.”

“Damn right I do.” When she went closer and squinted against the sun to see his face, she read the sexual heat in his eyes.

Heat that put the September sun to shame. Heat that told her he was definitely a man, not some illusory god. That brought an echoing burn in her own body.

She raised a hand, unable to resist touching that firm bronzed skin. His shoulder first, strong and supple and warm, then down his upper arm where the muscles bunched. Across his forearm, her fingers drifting through hair tipped in gold. To his hand, which she clasped in hers.

Then she gazed up at him, meeting the heat in his eyes and answering back with a sultry smile. “What will you give me if I take my T-shirt off?”

“What do you want?”

Her body, throbbing with arousal, knew the answer. Adonis was completely unlike any man she’d gone out with before, but this nature-boy stuff turned her on. His quiet competence, his depth of knowledge, the way he shared his enjoyment of a world she’d barely noticed.

Not to mention, all those golden-brown muscles, the streaky wind-tousled hair, those gleaming eyes the color of melted chocolate.

“What do I want?” She tugged her T-shirt out of her jeans and lifted it far enough so he could see a couple of inches of the teddy underneath. “Sex, here and now.” Her voice came out breathy from nerves.

I don’t really mean it. Do I? We can’t do it here, can we? No, he’ll turn me down. Of course he will.

“Keep stripping,” he drawled.

With clumsy fingers, she did. She pulled the shirt over her head, tossed it aside and shook back her hair before she dared to look at him.

He was studying her, nodding approval. “Nice. Jeans and a teddy. Suits you.” His voice was husky and his gaze stroked heat down her body, arousing her as if he’d touched her. She knew without looking that her nipples were poking against the thin fabric. Her sex was swollen and sensitive inside the constricting jeans.

“Thanks,” she choked out.

“Didn’t know you were such a risk taker. You really want to do this?”

She’d challenged him; now he was challenging right back. Did she really mean it, that she wanted them to have sex where anyone could walk by?

Outrageous. Ann Montgomery, I can’t believe my daughter would even contemplate such a thing.

Outrageous? Interesting choice of word, Mother. Reminds me of Suzanne’s and Jenny’s adventures. And you know what that makes me think? That I damn well deserve a turn too!

She sucked in a breath, let the air out. “I’m not kidding.” She tried for a seductive smile. “You up for it?”

His gaze was heated. “There’s hard evidence in front of your eyes, Lawyer-girl.”

She glanced down his body. Earlier, she’d admired how those faded, worn, loose-fitting jeans looked on his rangy body. Now they weren’t at all loose under the fly, and they looked even better. Her breath caught, her pussy clenched with need.

Boldly she stepped forward so the front of her body brushed his. Her breasts, clad in the flimsiest of fabric, against his hot, hard, naked chest. Her jeans fly against his. She wriggled her hips, pressing closer against his rigid column.

She started to raise her arms so she could touch him but he caught her hands in his, holding them down at their sides. Then he leaned down. She arched up and their lips met. Softly, closed-lipped, a tender hello. A temptation, a tease that made her want more.




Books by Susan/Savanna

Cover of the new book "Champagne Rules" - a black man and a white woman kiss in deep wine-coloured light


Sign up for Susan Lyons' newsletter, the Champagne News

[con't from bottom left column]

“You have the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“Me?” He sure was good for her ego, as well as her hormones.

“Drives a man crazy, thinking about what you could do with that mouth.”

She tilted her head, sent him what she hoped was a seductive smile. “And just what do you want me to do with it?”

“Everything. But for now, how about . . .”

This time when his lips came down on hers, she parted her mouth slightly. Hoped he’d deepen the kiss, turn up the heat. Instead he darted out his tongue to caress her bottom lip, then retreated. Came back to do her top lip. Kept going, finding a different spot each time. A lick, a nip, a gentle sucking pressure, she never knew what was coming next.

He was seducing her mouth, and he hadn’t even ventured inside it yet. And each touch resonated in her swollen sex.

She answered back, finding surprising pleasure in just caressing, nibbling, tasting his firm lips. Then she upped the ante and flicked her tongue between them, touching the tip of his tongue with hers, then retreating.

He followed, and she lost all thought of time as they lazily explored each other’s mouths. The fronts of their bodies took up their own dance of touch—pressing, shifting, rubbing.

Wanting to tangle her fingers in that sun-streaked hair, caress his strong back, Ann tried to free her hands, but Adonis held them firmly. Gradually she realized he was right. This way, their attention focused on different kinds of touch. The interplay of lips and tongues, the constant exchange of messages between chests, thighs, groins.

Every single subtle movement became more intense, more arousing. Every cell in her body was aware. Deliciously sensitized.

She’d never felt like this before, both hungry with need yet content to keep on touching the way they were, not rushing into sex.

His mouth eased away from hers and he said, “Ann? Look at me.”

She glanced up. Found deep brown eyes gazing at her, filled with heat and . . . Was that affection? Lust, she’d expected, but not this warmth and sincerity that seemed to gaze right inside of her, search out all her secrets.

That gaze made her wish she was the kind of woman he really wanted. Serene, balanced, in tune with nature and with herself.

Feeling inadequate, she did what she knew how to do best, and took control. She tugged her hands free and reached up to pull his head down. “I said sex now. Not three days from now.”

Did she hear him sigh as she closed her eyes? But when she pressed her mouth hungrily to his, he responded. His hands cupped her bottom, pulling her hard against him.

Then he was maneuvering her backward into the trees until she came up against one. Behind her, the bark was rough but not uncomfortable. She glanced up, saw leafy green branches high above, a canopy that let only a flicker of sunshine through.

Adonis reached between them to undo her jeans and slide his hand down the front. She eased the sides of the pants down to allow him better access, too desperate to be embarrassed that she was soaking wet. And aching for release.

He found the snap that secured her teddy and undid that too, and now there was nothing between his deft fingers and her needy sex. She was close to tumbling over the edge. If he’d just— Oh God, yes! Like that!

Two long fingers slid inside her and she clenched on them as his thumb stroked her clit, back and forth. Jesus, she was going to come. This quickly, with just a couple of strokes from his fingers. It was never this easy for her, surely she couldn’t—