as his hand slid to her hip and around to her arse, then to the back of her thigh, urging her over.
“Yes,” she muttered against his, going with him as she slid her leg over his thighs, pulling her dress out from between her as she went, straddling his lap, the soft give of her center pressed against the hard bulge at his center.
The move was accomplished in seconds, the swing rocking and lurching, but he barely registered it as their kiss continued, deeper and wetter, his neck extended back now as she loomed above him. His hands settled on her arse, where her dress had bunched up, holding her fast, holding her just there, where it felt so good, especially when she started to flex her hips, rubbing herself against him rhythmically.
Cole gasped, breaking their lip-lock as every nerve ending in his crotch caught fire.
“What?” She stared down at him, the pant of her breath and the wet shine of her mouth sexy as fuck. “Oh, shit…sorry…” She frowned. “Is it your leg, your hip? Is it capable of taking my weight?”
Cole choked out a husky laugh. He was feeling zero pain right now. Hell, he was so far gone he could’ve been balancing the planet on his lap and not registered it.
Thank you, dopamine.
“Oh, it’s more than capable.” And he thrust against her a little to demonstrate his competence and his readiness.
Every single inch of it.
Her hands clamped hard on his shoulders, and she closed her eyes on a moan, her head falling back. Cole licked straight up the ridge of her trachea as his palms ran up the sides of her body. He vaguely registered the hard plastic of the baby monitor on the left—in a pocket, maybe—as his hands moved up, up, up, his fingers thrusting into her hair, pulling out the band holding her ponytail in place, setting her hair free, reveling in the cool spill of it against his palms.
“Cole,” she moaned, rubbing herself against him again.
Cole panted hard as the havoc she was creating between his legs undulated like a heat wave through his body. He hadn’t known until this moment that his heart could beat so fast and not just give out. And he was a professional athlete.
Sliding his hands to her hips, he thrust against her again, and she moaned louder this time, murmuring, “Yes, oh yes,” as her hips took up his rhythm, and they rutted together, breathing hard. Christ, if he’d thought to bring condoms with him to the U.S. and had one in his back pocket now, it’d be out and on, and he’d be inside her, giving them both what they obviously wanted.
But he didn’t. And, despite the juvenile nature of their dry humping, it felt too ridiculously good to stop.
“How long has it been?” he whispered, nuzzling against her ear.
She didn’t answer for a beat or two, and when she did, it was low and breathy. “Has what been?”
“Since you had an orgasm with anyone other than yourself?”
She gave a half laugh, pulling her head back a little to look down into his face. Her hips, however, kept up the pace. The urge to let his eyes roll back in his head and just let go, grind mindlessly against her until they both climaxed, was strong, but coming in his pants wouldn’t exactly be a ringing endorsement of his sexual prowess, and besides…he wanted to see her face when she came.
“Three years. Not since Tad and I ended.”
“Jesus.” That was a long time. Cole slid one hand to her nape, anchoring it there as he ground against her a little harder. “Three years?”
She made some kind of noise that sounded affirmative. “What about you?” Jane asked, the words coming out on something crossed between a pant and a moan.
“About eight months. Since before the accident.”
A husky laugh escaped her throat. “We make a fine pair.”
With her undulating above him fully dressed in some weirdly wanton, PG-rated lap dance, Cole couldn’t agree more.
“I don’t have a single goddamn condom anywhere, but that doesn’t mean I can’t—” He slipped the hand at her nape beneath the fabric of her dress draped over his legs and trailed his fingers over her thigh. “Help you out with that?”
It was gratifying to hear the little hitch in her breath, to see the slight widening of her eyes as his fingers slowly traversed her thigh, trekking down the soft inner side, getting closer and closer.