sparkle there, and the world tilted wildly for a second or two. “The only thing I need when running a kid’s rugby clinic is a really loud voice.”
His lips twitched, and Jane laughed. To her surprise, he followed suit. His laughter was rich and full and deep, and his head tipped back a little, ruffling those curls and stopping the breath in her throat. His mouth was big and open, and his teeth flashed white in the encroaching shadows, and for a second she wished he’d lean in and kiss her again like he had last night.
Even though she’d asked him not to do it again.
So if there was going to be any kissing tonight, she was going to have to kiss him, which was exactly what she did. She ignored her wiser angels and kissed him. Jane Spencer, divorced single mom and historical-house rehabber, kissed Cole Hauser, Australian rugby royalty. She swooped into the space between them—with more haste than finesse, in case she chickened out—and took his mouth.
Jane wasn’t sure who was more stunned at first. Him or her. There was certainly a beat or two when they both sat stock still, just like last night. Then he groaned a groan that was the most wickedly delicious noise Jane had heard in a long time, followed by a clatter, which sounded like his cane dropping, and then his hand was sliding onto her face and pushing into her hair.
Of its own volition, her body half turned toward him, and his body mirrored the movement as his tongue stroked along the seam of her lips, and it was so damn erotic her mouth opened on a silent kind of oh. He swallowed that oh right up, and Jane pressed closer, her hand sliding on top of his as Cole angled his head to deepen the kiss, his lips slanting over hers. Jane’s heartbeat was so loud in her ears she couldn’t even hear herself breathe.
God…was she breathing? She felt too lightheaded, too airless to be sure.
The kiss was slow and deep—not gentle, but not rushed, either—it was thorough, his tongue exploring, his hand firm in her hair as he held her in place. Cole took his time kissing her, and it was absolutely him kissing her. She might’ve instigated it, but he had taken control, and she was more than happy to follow his lead.
He was the kisser, and she was the kissee.
Her pulse thrummed, and her belly twisted tight, and fireworks exploded behind her eyes, and she was…
Bamboozled. Ensorcelled. Enslaved.
By his mouth. By the cool flavor of beer on his lips, the masterful stroke of his tongue, and the undiluted masculinity of him, invading her senses every time she remembered to breathe.
It was intoxicating, and someone needed to bottle it. Call it Jock or Pro or Stud and sell it for a thousand bucks a pop. She’d buy a case of the stuff.
Hell, she’d bathe in it every damn night.
A sudden noise like the grunting of a wild animal pierced the sexual haze, and Jane broke away, her brain spinning in her head, her lungs grabbing for air.
Finn.
Fumbling the monitor from her pocket, she ogled it blindly, listening for…she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to be listening for. Hell, she was barely remembering how to breathe, but when there was only silence, the mommy part of her brain relaxed, and she finally snuck a sideways look at Cole.
He was staring at her with glazed eyes, his breathing as hard, if not harder, than hers. His mouth was wet, and his pupils had blown out. “Just so we’re clear here, when you go to bed tonight and tell yourself this kiss shouldn’t have happened, remember that it was you who kissed me this time.”
His voice was a low rumble that plucked at muscle fibers deep inside her pelvis. “I know.” He definitely hadn’t started it. That was on her.
But he’d sure as hell finished it.
He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else but closed it, straightening himself, facing the backyard again as he took a long swallow of his beer. Given her legs weren’t quite capable of supporting her yet and her pulse rate was still dangerously high, Jane did the same, barely tasting the cold amber fluid as it slid down her throat.
She shut her eyes. God…what had come over her? She’d asked him not to kiss her again yesterday, and now here she was, kissing him! Sure, he hadn’t been averse