“You carry them with you to earthquake rescues?”
“Believe it or not, they’re part of the gear in a survival vest—the most efficient way to carry water.”
“Water carrier? Like a balloon? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Afraid not.” He knelt, scooping his vest off the floor. “But I’m really not in the mood to discuss survival training right now.”
“Me either.” She tugged his vest from him. “And I have a better idea than you using up the ‘water jugs’ stored in your vest.”
Amelia pointed past his ear.
He turned to look at the metal shelves behind him and found… an industrial-size box of condoms. “Holy crap. Somebody’s got ambitions. Although if we were out of this hell and had a long weekend, maybe…”
She yanked the box from the shelf. “How about you stop bragging and start proving?”
“Roger that.” He took the carton from her, tore open the top, and dug around inside.
“Hurry,” she demanded. She shoved the box back on the shelf quickly, toppling it sideways. A half dozen rained from the box onto the floor.
But he had one firmly in hand. Urgency hammering through him, he slapped it on the small corner desk behind her, put his gun safely aside on a shelf, and devoted his entire attention to Amelia.
She met him kiss for kiss, touch for touch. His hands dipped inside her pants, cupping her bottom, lifting her more fully against him. The soft pressure of her rocking her hips against his hard-on threatened to send him over the edge.
He dipped his head, taking her nipple in his mouth. Her gasp, then purring moan, sent a fresh bolt of lust shooting through him. She sagged in his arms and he secured his hold, shifting his attention to her other breast, licking, nipping, teasing. Her head fell back and she mumbled breathy encouragement, urgent requests for more.
He completely agreed.
Distantly, he heard a rattle beyond the door, low voices. His body tensed until the sounds continued past their locked haven.
Amelia rubbed her cheek against his. “No more waiting.”
Her fingers worked the fly of his pants until she freed him. For two labored breaths, she held him, her fingers enclosing him like a cool silken glove. Then she stroked and he lost his footing for a second.
He braced a hand against the table behind her. Her lips curved in a knowing smile that she grazed along his neck, up to nip his earlobe.
Reaching behind her, she groped along the table until she located the condom. She tore it open with her teeth and sheathed him quickly, efficiently. So very thoroughly. The caress of her hands down the length of him threatened to undo him right then. He reined himself in, reminded himself of all she’d been through—
She bracketed his face with her hands and stared straight into his eyes, her shoulder-length blonde hair a tousled, sexy mess around her face. “I don’t want tenderness and I don’t want some sort of fake romanticism. We both know what this is about.”
“You’re—”
“Tired of talking.” She urged his head to hers and kissed him, full-on and full-out, demanding with her mouth and her hands.
He’d been planning to say she was bruised and exhausted from her ordeal. That this was crazy and they needed to be levelheaded.
Sanity be damned. If this was insanity, he was all in. Literally.
Nudging down the pants of her scrubs, he cupped her butt again, lifting her, settling her on the edge of the desk. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging in, urging him forward until…
He pushed inside her.
Teeth gritted, he held still. “Okay?”
“More than okay, but I could be better if you would…”
She dug her heels into his ass and urged him closer. Deeper. Her eyes stared back at him in the dimly lit room, the same sweet blue drawing him in as completely as her body held his. He thrust and her forehead fell to rest against his, her sigh filling the air around them.
The tension that had begun building since the first time he saw her, that had only continued and increased, grew teeth inside him. The need, the hunger, gnawed at him, demanding he move inside her, meet the wriggle of her hips in just the right way to take her as high as she took him.