Champagne Kisses: A Timeless Love Story

by Krista Lakes

  With deliberate fingers, he unwrapped the foil and twisted the thin metal holding the cork. I jumped when the cork flew out into his waiting kitchen towel. He laughed gently and grinned at my surprise.

  "Glasses are in that cabinet there," he said, gesturing with his head to one of the wooden doors. I opened it to find a neat row of glassware, and pulled out two slender glasses and set them on the counter next to him. He poured the bubbling golden liquid, and we each picked one up.

  "What should we toast to?" Dean asked. He raised his glass, stopping just short of tapping mine.

  "To old friends," I answered. He smiled at the similarity to our first toast with champagne.

  "To old friends," he said softly, and we clinked our glasses and took a sip. I closed my eyes and was transported back in time, back to the night I met Dean. The champagne even tasted the same.

  Dean was so close to me that I could feel his body heat radiating toward me. His head bent slightly so he leaned over me, the two of us almost pressed together in the small kitchen. My heart pounded in my chest, a light-headed happiness filling me up like a cup. Every fiber of my being prayed he would just lean forward a little bit more, just enough for our lips to touch. I rose onto my toes, straining to bridge the distance between us, to kiss him again.

  He stepped back, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Rachel, we can't..." He looked at me, his eyes full of desire but pleading with me, as if they just wanted me to understand.

  I set the glass down, smoothing my hair into it's normal tight bun, finding a spare hair-tie in my pocket. He was being the responsible one. He was the one making sure we didn't do something we were going to regret later. I hung my head, a blush searing through my cheeks.

  "I'm sorry, Dean. I shouldn't have come." I turned and headed toward the door, biting my lip to keep the emotions bottled up. I could let them out once I was in the car, but I didn't want him to see me break. "Thank you for the lovely dinner."

  I was two steps away from the door when his hand caught my wrist. He pulled gently, spinning me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. His lips pressed into mine, full of need and want. I opened my mouth, his tongue slipping in and finding mine. He tasted better than anything I could have imagined.

  Dean's body pressed into mine, his muscles hard and flexed as he held me to him, his gentle hands holding the back of my neck and pulling me into him. I moaned softly, the years of wanting him surging to the surface.

  "Please don't go," he whispered as we both stopped to breathe. Our foreheads were pressed together, and we both took big, unsteady breaths. I couldn't have left if I wanted to. "Never leave again."

  I kissed him again, wrapping my arm around his neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. It was a hungry, desperate kiss, full of years of lost desire. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. And he was right there, kissing me back, asking me to stay. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, but it was one of pure joy.

  My hand went to the bottom of his shirt and pulled upward. I had wanted to touch those muscles from the moment he had opened the door. He casually raised it over his head and flung it to the floor. His blue eyes twinkled in the light of the kitchen as I ran my fingers across his flesh. He let his head fall back with a low moan. I leaned forward and kissed his hardening nipples, tasting them like candy. His skin was delicious.

  Without warning, Dean scooped me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, drinking him in as he carried me to the bedroom. His muscles were hard and strong underneath me, and he never struggled with my weight, moving across the room as though I were light as a feather.

  He set me down carefully on the tall bed, never letting the kiss between us stop. My fingers ran up and down his arms and back, desperate to touch every inch of his skin. He broke free of my kiss, pulling back and looking me over as I lay on his bed. He smiled appreciatively.

  "God, you're beautiful," he whispered. He blinked as though he hadn't actually intended to say it out loud. I was glad for the dark in the room as a satisfied blush flared across my cheeks.

  "Even now?" I asked quietly. I knew I wasn't the girl I had been twenty years ago, and part of me was afraid he would see only the changes.

  He leaned forward, his eyes dark and full of barely contained lust. "Especially now."

  His hands went to the top button of my dress shirt. His lips twitched up to one side in a cocky grin as he slowly unbuttoned, moving down to the next as soon as it was free. He leaned forward, kissing the newly revealed skin, savoring it. With every kiss, the spark of desire burned brighter within me. At the rate I was going, I was going to be a raging inferno of lust by the time he got my shirt off.

  With delicious slowness, he worked his way to the last button, opening the shirt and running his fingers along my skin. A low moan of pure want escaped my lips. With every touch, every look he was igniting flames along my nerves.

  His fingers traced lazy circles across my stomach, slowly creeping lower and lower to the band of my pants. The button opened easily, and I lifted my hips as he tugged gently on my pants. He continued with his policy of kissing every inch of skin bared to him, his tongue grazing the soft flesh of my thigh down to my calves.

  I leaned my head back into the pillow, losing myself to the sensation. His teeth nibbled on the tender fold of my knee, his breath hot on my exposed skin. I lay on the bed, bare but for my panties, bra, and open shirt. Every touch sent a thrill straight into the core of my body.

  Dean worked his way back up my legs, his soft kisses tickling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I sat up, taking his chin in my fingers and bringing him in to kiss my mouth. I needed his kiss. His fingers slipped the shirt from my shoulders, and he escaped my hungry mouth to kiss their bare tops. I moaned, tangling my fingers in his short hair.

  One graceful finger slid along the length of my bra strap, tracing the lacy fabric down across the tops of my breasts. I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling with his finger. A shiver of anticipation rolled through me.

  He leaned forward and kissed the top of my right breast. My heart fluttered in my chest, the primal ache growing harder to resist. I wanted his body so badly I could taste it, but I didn't want to stop. His every touch was a drug, and I was hooked.

  Dean's warm hand caressed my side, tracing the bra to the back clasp. He struggled with it for a moment, finally making a frustrated noise as the clasp refused to yield. He looked up at me, his disappointment and insurmountable need pouring over me. My breath caught at his gaze, the sheer volume of desire catching me off guard.

  I giggled, twisting my hands behind me to do it myself. I felt the wire release, and slowly, I lowered the lacy fabric. I bit my lip, watching Dean's face as the fabric fell away. His eyes dilated and his mouth opened in wordless appreciation. His eyes met mine, dark and hungry. I was vibrating with want for him.

  With that perfect half-smile, he reached past my ear, snagging the hair-band holding my hair. My hair fell from the makeshift bun in dark waves around my shoulders. Dean hissed with appreciation, making me feel like the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth.

  "So damn beautiful," he murmured. His mouth found my breast, gently pushing me back onto the pillow with his hand. His tongue strummed the pink flesh like a guitar string, sending beautiful vibrations through my body. I pressed his head into my chest, arching my back to give him better access.

  A jolt of pleasure surged through me as his fingers found my pleasure center. He made slow circles on the outside of my light pink panties, revving my internal engines to full power. I lost all sense of time and space. The only thing that existed was Dean and my pleasure. It wasn't long before the sheer intensity of the fire burning within me overcame all my senses. Ecstasy rolled through me in waves, pure bliss washing through every fiber of my being.

  When I could breathe again, I reached for him. I didn't want to wait any longer. I craved him. I needed him. I had needed him for so long and I didn't have t
o wait any longer. I clawed at his pants, desperate to have him. He laughed as he wiggled free, showing me that he didn't have anything on underneath. No wonder his ass had looked so good.

  He stood before, bathed in soft moonlight. He moved to the nightstand, fishing a small square packet from a corner drawer and hastily putting it on. He didn't want to wait any longer either.

  He was between my legs in less than a moment, his masculine scent heady and intoxicating. I could feel his massive manhood pressing against me, seeking entrance, and as we made eye contact, he entered.

  My body sang with pleasure. I cried out his name, feeling the two of us finally joining as one. We were no longer separate or alone. We were together. I gripped the headboard, feeling my knuckles go white as he delved deeply into me. My back arched with every thrust, wanting to take him ever deeper inside of me.

  Our eyes never left one another. His winter-blue eyes peered into my soul, the two of us speaking volumes without words. He kissed me softly, his lips gentle yet insistent for more. My body was on fire for his touch, the ache unbearable. I wrapped my legs around him, and with all my strength rolled to the side.

  He made a surprised growl, but grinned as he saw me straddle him. He moved his hands to the headboard, groaning softly as I began to writhe up and down, sliding and enjoying every inch of him. His face contorted into a mask of pleasure, his arms tensing as I found a rhythm.

  I could barely stand it, the pleasure of having him inside me coursing through me in waves. Every centimeter, every touch was something I had craved. I had dreamed of this for twenty years, and the reality was so much better than the fantasy.

  I slowed my pace and leaned down to kiss him. As if waiting for his moment, he wrapped his arms around me and flipped me back onto my back. I didn't mind, though. I loved looking up, seeing his arms and chest flexing above me and the way his waist tapered into a delicious V. His hips rocked back and forth, sending undulations of pleasure into me.

  His pace quickened, his breathing coming in shallow pants. His eyes drifted closed as sweet climax washed over him. I cried out, and Dean's low ragged answering groan filled my ears. I clung to him, pulling him into me, never wanting him to leave. I felt his release wash over the inside of my body. With slowing strokes, he shuddered and his body relaxed.

  Moments later, he rolled to his side, his eyes searching my face. Happiness like I hadn't seen in years spread across his features. He brushed the hair out of my eyes, smiling as he kissed me. My world was perfect.

  The dark night wrapped the two of us like a warm blanket. I could hear the fire crackle in the other room. Dean was solid beside me, his arms wrapped tight around me as though he were afraid I might run off into the night. I never wanted to leave.

  The moon peeked through the window, casting the room in silver shadows. The light danced across the sheets, turning them into an ocean of pleasure, and the air sparkled with promise. A single moonbeam soared through the window, landing on a small painting on Dean's nightstand. I sat up on my elbow, peering over him to look at it. It was the painting from the beach.

  "What are you looking at?" Dean asked. His voice was rough and incredibly sexy. A shiver of desire went up my spine, and I kissed his cheek before leaning over and picking it up. He cocked his head, a boyish grin on his face as my chest passed in front of his face, but I managed to pick up the painting and settle back into the nook of his arm.

  "I can't believe you still have this," I said softly, tracing the dark lines of the silhouette. He cuddled me in closer to him, his lips against my hair.

  "I told you, I went back and got it. It's my favorite work of art." His breath tickled against my cheek.

  "Even more than the Renoir on your mantle?" I asked. I had a feeling it was real, but if it wasn't, it was still expertly done. If it was real, it was worth a fortune.

  "Even more than the Renoir." He kissed me softly. "I only have a love of art because you gave it to me."

  "I love you, Dean." The words came out easily, as though I had always said them. In my heart, I had said them every day since I had met him.

  He squeezed me tighter, his arms strong and safe. "I love you, too." he whispered. No words had ever felt so good. Happiness and contentment surged through every inch of my being. Things felt right in the world. He nuzzled my hair, kissing me gently. I nestled into the crook of his arm, resting my ear against his chest. His heart beat in my ear, rhythmic and soothing.

  "I can hear your heart beat," I whispered.

  "It beats for you. It always has," he whispered back. I smiled, closing my eyes and simply enjoying being with the love of my life. Dean's heart pulsed, my own heart matching his mesmerizing rhythm as I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 26

  Present Day

  I woke up the next morning to find that Dean was already out of bed. The room seemed empty without him. I glanced at the painting on the nightstand, the woman still defiant against the storm after all these years. It made me smile that he had kept it.

  The floor was cold to my bare feet as I stumbled into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet seat was a clean pair of sweats and a plain gray t-shirt. I slid the comfortable clothing on, rolling the waist band to keep the pants up. The shirt smelled like Dean, and I breathed it in, enjoying the scent. I giggled as I realized there was no way he was going to get this t-shirt back. Well, maybe, when it lost that wonderful smell and needed refreshing.

  The rest of the apartment was quiet, but I found a pot of coffee ready with a note in Dean's messy handwriting.

  Good morning Beautiful,

  I didn't want to wake you, but I'm getting breakfast. Creamer's in the fridge.

  I love you.

  I folded the note and stuck it in my pocket. Even though it was just a simple message, it felt dear to me. Maybe it was because I had wanted simple notes like this, simple mornings like this, for a very, very long time.

  The creamer was about the only thing in the fridge. That and a jar of pickles. When he said he hadn't been home much, he wasn't kidding. I poured a cup of coffee and wandered over to the couch, sipping at the dark liquid. Dean had good taste in coffee. I could get used to spending mornings here. Maybe he would even give me a drawer to keep my things in.

  The thought of getting to fall asleep wrapped up in Dean's arms and then wake up in the morning and have breakfast, made me giddy. In my mind I could see the two of us getting ready for work together...

  Work was a problem. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. We could both be fired for this. I could hear Daniel's voice, repeating the conversation we had when Dean was hired.

  "Thank you for telling me about your prior relationship with this man. You understand that I have to enforce the employee contract. If I make an exception for you, I will have to make exceptions for others. The whole point of the employee contract was to negate that issue," Daniel said. He stood tall in his office. There were boxes on the desk, though, the first sign that his illness was forcing him to hand the reigns over to Jack.

  "I don't think it will be a problem. I don't see the two of us getting back together. I just felt it was important to tell you. I didn't want it to come up later and be an issue." I stood straight and tall in front of his desk. I had been afraid that he would be angry.

  "Oh, Rachel." He gave me a big smile and came around the desk, putting his hands on my shoulders. "You are allowed to have a life outside of this company. In fact, I'd love it if you met someone and made me a godfather. I think you'll find someone better than a washed up soldier to make you happy, so I'm not going to waver on this."

  "I understand. I really don't think it's going to be a problem. Those feelings, I don't think they'll ever be what they were before," I said. It was true. I was sure after our interview that he hated my guts.

  He hugged me then, his arms strong as he squeezed me close. "You are the daughter I never had. I really do just want you to be happy."

  How were we going to make this work? I knew after last night, I
would never be content to just sit back and watch him. Now that Dean was in my life, now that we were together, I couldn't give him up. We could try and hide our relationship, but sooner or later it would come out and one, or both, of us would be out of a job. The contract was clear.

  Irrational fears started to fly through my brain. We were both going to be fired and we would end up homeless on the street. Jack would never let that happen, and even if it did, at least you'd still be together, the little voice in my head whispered.

  I sagged into the couch. The leather was soft and smelled good, but I didn't cuddle into it. I knew I was just waiting for the universe to rip us apart again. My heart was a mess. It had broken when he left me the first time. It had broken when I hired him and had to ignore him. Now it was breaking because I was going to have to lose him. It was either lose him or lose the job and the people I considered a family with it.

  A tear trickled down my cheek. This roller coaster of emotions was going to drive me insane. I wiped at my cheek angrily. This was getting me no where. Sitting here and crying because some stupid employee contract said that I couldn't date the man of my dreams was ridiculous. I wasn't going to just sit around and let him get away from me again. I was going to talk to Jack. I was going to fix this. There was no reason for me to be upset. No reason for us to go through the pain of losing one another again for something as equally trivial as the last time.

  The sound of the front door opening pulled me from my thoughts. Dean gave me a huge grin as he walked in the door, the smell of food wafting out of a paper bag. I quickly changed my expression, putting on a happy face. I wanted us to be happy. I didn't want him to worry about his job, or mine. I just wanted to enjoy this morning. I silenced the voices of worry. Just enjoy what you have.

  Dean kissed the top of my head, my hair messy around my shoulders. The couch creaked softly as he sat next to me. He pushed one of the dark brown strands behind my ear and gave me a kiss on the nose. "Now, let's have some breakfast. I got those English muffin sandwiches I know you like."