“Let me check my bag. We might get lucky.” Hannah pushed off the bed. She went into the bathroom, where she’d left her purse. She unzipped the small compartments. Damn. Not there.

“Might?” He called from the bedroom.

“It’s not like I use them by the dozen.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

Purse in hand, she went back into the bedroom and rooted in her handbag for her tiny cosmetic bag. She could feel his eyes on her. She looked back at him. He’d rolled onto his back, one arm over his head on the pillow, his body stretched out like a buffet. A sexy grin full of male appreciation spread across his face.

She paused. “What are you thinking?”

“That you should do everything naked.”

The laugh eased her nerves. Kneeling, she pulled the nylon case out and opened the clasp. Her hand went to the small zippered compartments in the lining. She swept her fingers inside. “Bingo.” Thankfully, her cosmetic case hadn’t fit in the small evening bag that was stolen in Vegas.

Grasping the foil pouch, she moved back to the bed. “But I only have one.”

“Then we’d better make the most of it.” He reached for her.

Condom in hand, she crawled across the bed and straddled him. His hands encircled her waist, caressing the sensitive skin from her hips to her ribs. She opened the condom and sheathed him. Lowering her torso, she pressed their bodies together. Their lips met. His tongue was slick and hot as it slid between her lips. She could imagine it stroking other sensitive parts of her body.

The mad condom search had defused her. The heat built again, slower and steadier this time, marathon versus sprint. His hands were gentle, sure and clever, sliding, caressing.

A fingertip slipped inside her and sent her desire into a free fall. She lifted her head. “Brody . . .”

“Mm.” The finger withdrew and circled.

“Any time now.” She tried to sit up to grind against him, but a hand on her lower back held her in place.

“No way. I’m just getting started. We only have the one, remember?”

“I’ll buy more.” She pressed against his hand.

“Patience.” His teeth grazed her throat.

“Oh.” The exclamations slipped from her lips as control slipped from her grasp. Her hips rocked, the movements guided by pure physical sensation, by instinct. A primal groan vibrated in Hannah’s chest. The sound that poured from her throat felt alien. He took her to the edge and held her there. Sweat broke out over her body. Pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, heat flowing from her core, through her thighs and radiating outward.

Hannah’s breaths quickened. Her spine arched. Her head lifted. A helpless sound escaped. “Brody. Please.”