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hands were shaking just a bit but the colour high in her cheeks was all from the game and the man. It had zero to do with the make-up. ‘The worst that could happen,’ she said to herself calmly, ‘is that Cole can win. Ginger will not win. So if you lose, he wins. And if he wins, he deserves it.’
    ‘Who are you talking to?’ She turned and faced the door. No one. Just that sexy rumble of a voice.
    She laughed. He had his face pressed to the door jamb again. He could hear her talking but that was about it. ‘Cole?’
    ‘Nope. It’s I … your fairy godfather um … well, I don’t know about the fairy part. I just mean. Hey,’ he said finally. ‘Let me in.’
    ‘Are they out there?’
    ‘Nope. I owe Don a fifty for letting me sneak past him unawares.’
    ‘Now you’re bribing camera men?’ she sighed, but opened the door.
    He was in and locking the door in less than a heartbeat. Pressing her against the cool tile wall in less than that. ‘I’d bribe anyone to get a minute or ten alone with you. We all know they’re gonna be hours, more probably.’
    ‘I know.’
    His fingers insinuated themselves between her waistband and her hot skin. The muscles in her stomach rippled under his touch and a whole flock of butterflies started to fly around in her gut. He kissed her and it was all she could do to not climb him like a crazy woman. Instead, she fisted her hands in his chef’s coat and kissed him back.
    ‘You made chowder,’ she said.
    His lips were rough but still tender under all the intensity of it on the slope of her throat and he shoved his hands higher along her ribcage. His fingers teased just the underside of her breast and that was all it took for her nipples to bloom rock hard inside her blue tank top.
    ‘I did. I made chowder.’ Cole plucked one nipple hard and a jolt of pleasure shot through her and her cunt flexed up greedily around nothing but its own need. 
    ‘I made fritters,’ she said dumbly, playing her fingers over the extremely hard hump of his cock in his jeans. God, what that cock could do. It would make her blush were she not already blushing.
    ‘I like fritters,’ he growled. Cole yanked her coat open and hiked her tank over her breasts. His lips and tongue and teeth set on her and her whole body thrust towards him in a silent command to take her. 
    ‘I like chowder,’ she said and shoved her hand into his jeans. She pushed past the smooth cotton of his underwear and found him ready for her. A silken smooth but bullet-hard erection just for her.
    Cole tugged her braids and said, ‘It’s OK if you win. I want you to know that. You work your ass off and –’
    She kissed him quiet and unbuttoned his jeans to get her hands on him properly. ‘Shh, it’s OK with me if you win, if anyone deserves it … you are so, so good.’
    ‘Is that a sex reference?’ he chuckled and moved his big fingers over her jean button. He had her bare to her knees in a second. 
    ‘No. I mean it. You are so good. Inside, outside, in the kitchen.’ Her throat closed up a little and she blinked, staring up at him. His eyes were the colour of well laundered denim. And honest – she’d never seen such honesty in a man’s eyes.
    ‘Wow. What is it with us? We’re competition. We should hate each other. Be champing at the bit to kick each other’s asses and not to –’
    ‘Get naked?’ she asked and stroked him once. Hard. With a tight fist. 
    It brought him down to a sigh, that one stroke and his eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think I can get you all the way naked, but close e-fucking-nough.’
    Her brain jumpstarted and she stared. ‘Oh shit. Condom?’
    He tugged a foil packet from his small breast pocket on his coat. ‘Ready. I was hoping against hope – daydreaming really – that if we could just get alone for a few moments we could …’
    Jill snagged it and tore it open. Wanting another serving of Cole Roberts was making her bold. She rolled the condom on his jutting erection