against a large, solid frame. She was boxed in—the pier to her front, Cole’s chest and abs and thighs to her back.
Cool lips nuzzled her ear. “I’ve been dying to do this all afternoon.”
Jane savored his warmth and his hardness for a beat or two as his nose slowly trekked down the side of her throat, his breath puffing warm air on her wet skin. A rash of goose bumps spread down her arms and neck and chest. Her nipples hardened.
His hot tongue lapped along the same path his nose had taken. “Cole.” It was meant to be a warning, but it didn’t sound convincing.
“Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”
Oh God. It was more than okay. But…it wasn’t. “People can see.” Her protest was, again, not convincing, her voice strained as she fought the urge to drop her head to the side and let him have at it.
“What?” He removed his lips, pressing his temple to hers. “As far as anyone knows, we’re just talking.”
Jane gave a half laugh. It was true—the bulk of the pier hid everything going on below her shoulders, and she supposed at a distance it did probably look like they were just having a conversation. But they both knew there was nothing two-people-just-talking about this. Jane was excruciatingly conscious of his hand on her waist and the directions in which it could wander. Not to mention the clear evidence of his arousal pressing into her ass cheeks.
“So let’s talk, then.” Because she really didn’t want to move out of his arms just yet, but if she didn’t distract them, things were going to turn hot and heavy pretty damn fast.
He chuckled. “Oh yeah, what about?”
She grappled for something that wasn’t inane like the weather or the temperature of the water. Something they could have a conversation about. “The job you’re up for…the sportscaster. You done it before?”
“Nope.”
“Think you’ll be any good at it?” She couldn’t see how he wouldn’t be. She’d pay to listen to his voice. Surely there’d be heaps of others. Mostly women.
“I don’t know,” he said, his lips brushing her neck with every word. “Why don’t I show you what I’ve got and you give me a little appraisal?”
Before she could agree to his suggestion, his hand moved from her waist to her shoulder, his lips pressing to just behind her ear. “Cole Hauser takes full advantage of his surroundings to make his play,” he murmured, his voice going all TV on her. “He sees the goal, and he’s not afraid to go for it.” His fingers traced from her shoulder to her nape, sweeping her hair aside to locate the halter necktie of her bikini. “Oops, he’s come to an obstacle.”
Jane’s eyes grew wide as he tugged on the bow and it came undone. “Cole.”
“Yaaaasss,” he hissed like sportscasters often did when someone scored. “Success.” Hot air tickled her ear. “Hauser is as determined as ever.”
The string around her neck started to loosen and slide.
“What’s his next move going to be?” Cole continued, his hand disappearing. Her belly muscles jumped as it landed on her waist before gliding upward. “Hauser is obviously determined to use the whole field.” His fingers peeled down first one triangle of fabric and then the other, baring her breasts. “He’s a man on a mission.”
Jane swallowed, her nipples hard as pennies, thankful for the presence of the pier obscuring her nudity. His hand cupped one breast and then another, and Jane moaned, her head falling back onto his shoulder.
“Heads up, honey.” That wasn’t his sports commentator voice—it was far too low and dirty for that. “We’re supposed to be talking. We don’t want everybody to know I’m playing with your titties, now do we?”
Jane whimpered at his very deliberate phrasing. She wasn’t generally turned on by juvenile vulgarity, but titties in that accent of his was really working for her right now. She struggled to right her head, grinding her chin against the boards as he tweaked her nipples, biting down on her lip to stop from crying out as he taunted each taut peak.
“Hauser’s crossing between right and left field like the pro he is.”
His TV voice was back, and his fingers lingered for long, torturous minutes at her nipples until her pulse was a drum beat in her blood and she was panting and squirming against him, rubbing her ass into his crotch, using his fully fledged erection as some kind of erotic scratching pole to help soothe the ache between her legs.
Dear Lord, she