Page 39 of Snowed Under

He lifts his mouth to just under my ear lobe, making a noise that shoots straight to my core, and I can no longer keep my paws off him. I slide my hands up his arms and squeeze his biceps as he trails kisses all the way along my jaw. Then he finds my lips, pressing his to mine.

He kisses me with slow intention, like his mouth is making love to mine. It’s sensual, sexy and oh, so Cole.

Everything about him is like this.

I move my mouth against his as he switches sides without losing connection. I slide my body closer to his, realizing I’m almost in his lap as our thighs touch and my hands continue to slide up to his shoulders.

I love kissing him. A whole other world awaits where his lips are concerned. As for the rest of him? My God.

I pull back to look at him after a moment. The heat rushing to my face, my body is practically on fire.

“You okay?” He raises one hand to smooth back a flyaway piece of hair from my ponytail.

“Perfect,” I murmur. “But I need you to touch me, Cole.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head. “Is that what you need?”

“Mmm hmm.” I’m lost again as he leans back in, the same time his hands run over my shoulders and then down my sides. The light touch of his fingers grazes my hips, then travels back up and finally he moves his hands to the front, cupping my breasts. My nipples are taut and needy.

I nearly buck off the seat when I feel his warmth against them. His palms rubbing over and over, then he gently tugs on both peaks with his thumbs and forefingers.

I moan out incoherently and I’m about to crawl into his lap when a loud crash behind us, followed by a loud meow, makes us both jump about ten feet in the air. He releases his touch and we pull apart, glancing over to the cat flap.

Neither of us can contain our amusement as we burst into laughter, seeing Fudge standing there looking at us pointedly. I don’t know why he came crashing in like that, but here he stands.

Perfect timing, Fudgey.

CHAPTER 12

COLE

I glancedown at my cat with a look that saysthis better be good, mister.

Fudge clearly knows the best way to get both of our attention at once by crashing through the cat flap, even though he usually just steps or jumps through without any fuss at all. It’s like he knows.

Two seconds before, I was caressing her beautiful breasts and feeling those pretty little buds that have been teasing me for most of the night and I’m ready to explode. I want them in my mouth. Her sweet scent alone has me all hot and bothered, and the fact she has no idea what she does to me is an even bigger turn on.

“Nice timing,” I muse, looking down at Fudge. He sits upright instead of flopping down like he normally does, and meows loudly.

Ainsley giggles, clearly embarrassed and caught off guard by both Fudge jumping through the flap so loudly, and me caressing her neck and feeling her up. “Way to go, Fudge. Maybe he’s hungry?” she suggests.

Not as hungry as his daddy.I want to say, but I don’t want to scare the girl.

“Hungry?” I raise my eyebrows at him instead. “He has a bowl full of dry food he hasn’t touched where he just came from.Your home, Fudgey, to be precise.”

He ignores me and sidles up to his newfound best friend’s leg, and tries his best purr routine for good measure. She turns to look down at him adoringly. This cat, a few days ago, scared her half to death, so much so, she ran outside in her pajamas. Now she’s looking at him like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. But that’s Fudge for you.

“Aunty Ainsley has some dry food,” she coos, getting up from her seat.

I watch in astonishment as she walks on over to the kitchen cupboard and pulls down a little bag ofFeline Fancyand pours some onto a little saucer for him. Well, well. We’ll make a cat mama out of her yet.

She bought those especially? She doesn’t actually have a cat of her own, obviously, so she must’ve gone out and bought them at some point just for Fudge. The Casanova.

“Aunty Ainsley?” I chuckle, watching her. I think she needs the distraction. She’s hot and bothered too. Her face is flushed, and she’s breathing heavily. I take a swig of my coffee as Fudgey saunters over and has a sniff of the saucer. Ainsley is on her way back to me as he starts his little munchathon.

“I thought it was a nice touch,” she says. “I think your cat finally likes me.”

“It’s no wonder when you’re feeding him Feline Fancy and letting him sleep on your countertop.”

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