She must have felt the same way, for she snapped open the top of his jeans and yanked down the zipper. He groaned with relief as she freed him from the confines, curling her hand around him as he realized—
“No, wait.” Oh God, hardest thing he ever had to do. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away then eased from the bed. “Condom,” he managed, trying desperately to remember where he’d put them…
In his Jeep. Packed away.
Half a mile distant. In a raging thunderstorm.
He wanted to weep.
But Teddy, his Teddy, his smart, quick-thinking, and fast-talking—and wildly sexy—Teddy, was on the move. He gritted his teeth when he saw the enticing bounce of her breasts as she bounded from the bed.
“Wait here,” she said, and, praise God, she was back in seconds—with a string of familiar, flat plastic packets flapping from her hand.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, because there were at least five of them.
Then he didn’t pay attention to anything at all but the way her fingers were teasing as she rolled on the condom, and that he was skimming her conveniently stretchy pants down over her hips, and finally, they were skin to skin.
“Oh, God,” he murmured as they slid together, her curves fitting sweetly against him. She was warm and soft and smelled like perfection.
“Oscar,” she said a little desperately when he reached down between them to touch her again, “I want you…now, please.Now.”
She didn’t have to ask twice, and it was only another instant of shifting and fumbling, and then… Oh. Yes.
The sweet slide. Heaven.
Home.
They moved together, with him trying to keep it slow and easy and Teddy urging him on, demanding more and faster and all of him.
And then the finish.
Heaven.
Home.
Sixteen
Mmmmm.
Teddy was already smiling before she opened her eyes. But when she saw the smooth, solid corner of Oscar’s shoulder, and the stretch of his half-tanned arm angling from the bedclothes right next to her, she closed her eyes again in blissful memory.
What a glorious way to wake up.
What a glorious way to spend the night, with a thunderstorm thrashing about around them. Of course, they’d done quite a bit of thrashing on their own.
Smiling again at the memory, she snuggled a little closer to Oscar. The morning was chilly, though the rain had stopped sometime around dawn, and the sun shone happily through the window.
A minute later, she realized she had to pee. And then she remembered there was no power—no water, no toilet. But he’d shown her how to use a bucket to flush the loo, as he’d called it—making her hoot at the random Britishism—so she knew it wasn’t impossible.
Except that she’d need to fill the bucket first.
With a disgusted groan over her body’s basic morning needs, she slithered reluctantly out of bed and pulled on the first item of clothing she found—Oscar’s shirt.
Mmm. Soft. And it smelled good. Like him.
When she passed the bathroom on the way outside to get water, she saw a pail and two large pots sitting on the floor. All were filled with water. She grinned, and her heart melted even more. Because obviously Oscar had set that up last night while she was sleeping.
He had to have left their cozy bed and gone out into the pouring rain to fill all three vessels from the water pump. What a guy.
