Campaign for Love (24 page)

 

 

"No, this was perfect, you silly man. And I trust you. And started
taking the pill not long after we met."

 

 

His eyes widened. "Wow, you're more practical than I gave you credit
for. With everything personal we talked about, that never even
popped
into my head."

 

 

She giggled. "Don't get me wrong, I do want kids, just not for a
while
time. Not until I get to have some fun with a man who's eager to
share
the best things in life with me."

 

 

He indicated the beach with a sweep of his hand. "Adam and Eve in
paradise."

 

 

"For sure, minus the fig leaves."

 

 

She sat up, and grimaced slightly.

 

 

"What's wrong, pet, did I hurt you?"

 

 

She glanced up at him in surprise, then realized what he meant and
shook her head quickly.

 

 

"No, not at all, darling. I suppose everyone must have a fantasy of
making love on a moonlit beach, and now we've done it. But there's a
lot of sand, that's for sure." She rose from the blanket and began
to
dust her derriere. "We ought to get inside and make ourselves more
comfortable before we start all over again."

 

 

He laughed throatily. "Listen to the brazenness of the woman! I
haven't
recovered from the first time yet, and she wants an encore."

 

 

Her eyes flashed fire then. "Of course. You don't think you can show
me
the joys of your body and then expect me to go sleep alone in my
room."

 

 

Quentin rose to his feet and handed her her night-dress, which she
quickly donned. She saw Quentin wrap himself in her towel, then pick
up
the blanket.

 

 

"Where are your clothes?"

 

 

"I wasn't wearing any, which was another reason I didn't announce my
presence."

 

 

"Streaker!" she teased.

 

 

"Just hoping you'd be out here. Well, not hoping. I saw you from the
window."

 

 

"And if I hadn't come out of my room?"

 

 

"I would have tapped on your door," he admitted, before kissing her
on
the brow.

 

 

"So much for your stiff and formal goodnight."

 

 

"Honey, if I were any more stiff, they could use me to hammer
nails,"
he joked.

 

 

"Oh, Quentin." She slapped his rump now, as much to berate him as to
get some of the sand off his rear as well.

 

 

They walked up the beach hand in hand, floating with bliss. They
arrived back at her room safely without anyone running into them.

 

 

She closed all the drapes before turning on a light. When the lamp
came
on, they turned to one another and gazed their fill in awed
wonderment.
Details undetected in the soft moonlight now came clear. They
touched,
teased, explored, kissed, tasted...

 

 

Suzanna had Quentin turn around so she could see him from all
angles,
after which they took a prone position on the rug in front of the
window on the tiled floor while she continued to satisfy her
curiosity.

 

 

This was a brand new experience for Quentin also. No one had ever
been
that interested in all the parts of his body the way she seemed to
be.
He found himself almost embarrassed as she fondled him boldly and
avidly watched his surging response.

 

 

"You know, Suzanna, a lot of little boys missed out on a good thing.
You'd have played a great game of 'doctor.'"

 

 

"Yes, but if I had, just look at what you'd be missing now. You'd
have
nothing new to show me. I hope I'm not embarrassing you. I don't
seem
to have any shame left."

 

 

But her uninhibited exploring brought ample results, and now they
needed to be practical once more.

 

 

"Great though this rug is, let's have a warm shower to get rid of
the
rest of the salt and sand, and then get into bed," she suggested.

 

 

It proved a wonderful idea. They spread the thick soap suds on each
other and teased and caressed until they were both more than eager
for
more.

 

 

They dried each other off with long, languorous strokes, and then he
carried her to the bed.

 

 

Although inexperienced, this time Suzanna took the initiative. She
had
learned a lot already that night. She had also learned from some
movies
she had watched. Though they had disgusted her at the time, she now
found herself trying to remember the sorts of things men supposedly
enjoyed.

 

 

Accordingly, her little pink tongue darted everywhere, on his lips,
in
his mouth, along his lashes, behind, then inside, his ears. Quentin
was
on his back, eyes closed, lips parted as his tongue flicked out and
moistened them. A deep, almost purring sound, issued from his
throat.
She could feel his arousal swelling against her leg.

 

 

She started tracing a line of kisses with tongue and lips down his
body
as he had done to her. She even sucked at his flat nipples and was
surprised to feel him writhe as she had.

 

 

She was delighted to hear his moans of pleasure as she reached down
to
circle his navel with a moist, pointed tongue. She did not get a
chance
to go any lower, for with one powerful motion he flipped her on her
back against the pillows.

 

 

"Suzanna, enough, my darling. I need to feel myself inside you."

 

 

She responded with wild abandon, for she was more than ready.
Reaching
down, she guided him to the gateway to paradise for another
exquisite
act of love.

 

 

This time he didn't hold back. He was sure now that her desire was
equal to his own. He played her as a virtuoso plays a Stradivarius,
lovingly, tenderly, sometimes savagely. He extracted the ultimate in
pleasure with every stroke. They climbed the peaks of fulfillment
and
sank blissfully into the valley of satisfied desire.

 

 

They remained locked in one another's embrace whispering endearments
and affirmations of love until Quentin, remembering that Suzanna had
a
heavy shooting schedule the next day-that day, said, "It's three
A.M."

 

 

"It's still early," she murmured.

 

 

"It's late. I'm going to leave you now, my darling. I would stay all
night and make love to you again and again, but it wouldn't be fair
to
you. I don't want you to start hurting."

 

 

"Loving you could never hurt."

 

 

"All the same, if your breasts keep doing that we're never going to
be
able to keep you decent at the shoot."

 

 

She giggled. "I think that might have something to do with your
hands."

 

 

"It is going to be pretty hard to keep my hands off you today."

 

 

"Then don't try."

 

 

He groaned. "I have to, for the sake of the shoot."

 

 

Their bare bodies clasped together one more time as they exchanged a
passionate kiss. Then he slipped out the door clad in nothing but
her
towel, and like a shadow, he was gone.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

 

At breakfast in the morning, Candy took a look at Suzanna, then at
Quentin and said, "You two certainly look happy this morning. You
must
have had a really good night's sleep."

 

 

"Yes and no," answered Suzy. "I didn't sleep at all for the first
few
hours, but when I finally slept, it was the best I've ever had."

 

 

"Like everything else," said Quentin, struggling to keep a straight
face, "it's the quality, not the quantity that counts."

 

 

Suzy, who was seated next to him at an otherwise empty table, slid
her
hand along his thigh perilously close to his groin, and gave a
playful
squeeze.

 

 

"Why thank you, Suzanna," he said as he returned the compliment.

 

 

They smiled happily at one another just as Candy turned from the
coffee
urn on the serving table. She asked, "What's so funny?"

 

 

"Nothing," answered Suzanna. "It's a private joke."

 

 

With that, Quentin cracked up, Suzy followed suit, and Candy joined
in
the merriment without quite knowing why.

 

 

The rest of the crew was just filing in to the breakfast buffet and
felt the contagious joy. It set the tone for the whole day, which
was
to be their last in paradise.

 

 

Max and the others had decided to go jogging before breakfast, and
for
that reason had arrived a bit late. Bruce's opening remark caused
Suzy
and Quentin to exchange guilty glances.

 

 

"Either this island isn't as uninhabited as we thought, or a couple
of
people had themselves a swim last night."

 

 

"Yeah," said Max. "We saw two sets of footprints, going in and
coming
out of the water."

 

 

"That's right," said Joe. "They weren't there yesterday."

 

 

"Okay," said Suzy. "It looks as if we've been caught barefooted. I
went
for a swim, and I hadn't been in long when Quentin arrived. He
couldn't
sleep either. We swam together."

 

 

"So that's what the joke was all about," said Candy. "There seems to
be
a lot of that going around."

 

 

They all gave knowing looks, but everyone seemed to approve. In a
romantic spot like this who could blame them for love being in the
air?

 

 

"Sheeesh!" said Quentin, grinning back at them all. "Next time we'll
do
like in the movies and use a branch to sweep away our tracks."

 

 

Breakfast over, Candy asked Quentin if he had anything special lined
up
for the last day's campaign shots.

 

 

"Since Suzy is wearing no make-up as usual, we'll do the 'before'
stills and video in her nurse's outfit. After that, we'll do a whole
series of not just before and after, but of all steps along the way.
That could be the last series in the campaign- a sort of, 'If she
can
do it, you can do it too.' How does that sound?"

 

 

"Great!" said Joe enthusiastically. "For videotaping, it's
fantastic.
Quentin, can you write up a quick commentary with all the right
product
buzzwords? Some catchy slogans, phrases, you know. There's a
built-in
mike for voice-over. Candy can read the commentary as Bruce does the
make-up.

 

 

"The last stage can be redoing her hair, after which Suzy steps
behind
a screen and emerges in a gorgeous, figure-hugging, cocktail dress.
The
voice-over can say something like, 'Voila, Nice Nurse becomes Femme
Fatale.'"

 

 

"Terrific. Let's go for it."

 

 

There was no time to waste, so they all hopped to it. This was the
last
day of shooting. The launch would pick them up at five, they'd be in
Freeport by five-thirty, and would be on a flight heading back to
New
York by seven.

 

 

Thanks to the video-tape monitor, they scanned the beach and the
interior of the house, checked the lighting, and knew immediately
what
they had was good and all got to it straightaway.

 

 

Suzanna emerged from the guest house looking like an efficient angel
of
mercy. After they shot her looking at a thermometer and checking a
few
charts, Bruce once more worked his magic. Femme Fatale emerged, and
stunned them all once again.

 

 

At a break later in the afternoon, the whole crew raved about her
glamor shots that day.

 

 

"Unbelievable," Max marveled. "You were great all along, but now you
positively glow. It must be that you're more relaxed. You look, if
you'll pardon the expression, like a woman who's been made love to.
You
were a sex symbol before, but now, you look approachable, not
remote."

 

 

Even Bruce and Joe agreed. "You have an unreal glow about you," said
Bruce.

 

 

Suzanna tried to hide her embarrassment. One glance at Candy and she
realized that she had fathomed the secret of her loved look. Suzanna
couldn't help feeling a bit ridiculous. Who was she kidding?
Succeeding
in a man's world, indeed!

 

 

Could anything be more sexist than what I'm doing? she asked
herself.
True, the campaign idea had been hers, but she had allowed herself
to
be taken over, and she had primped, pirouetted, and pouted with the
best of them.

 

 

"Fantastic!" exclaimed Joe as they put the wrap on the campaign
later
that afternoon. "These last shots will be the clincher. Today, you
had
that 'Take me, I'm yours' look. It never quite came off until now."

 

 

Candy gave Suzanna a knowing look and smiled approvingly.

 

 

But the idyll had come to an end all too quickly. Much as she longed
to
linger, there was much to do once they got back home. They all had
to
run to their rooms to finish packing and get to the launch.

 

 

She looked regretfully at the beach where it had all started as she
packed the last of her things. Quentin had hardly managed to say one
word all day to her. Was it going to end once they got back to New
York?

 

 

She tried to dispel this gloomy thought, but all the same, she knew
she
and Quentin would have to keep working together, and their lives in
the
Big Apple were very different from the fantasy one they had created
for
themselves here. The trouble was, would their relationship blossom
once
they got back home, or wither on the vine?