Never mind. Keep your eyes open. And your nose.

I confess I do not know how to feel. I have no urge to taste that particular taste again.

Right there with you, Artur, Oh, look at this.

Thomas was gesturing them over, shining his undersea light at what she assumed was Cap’n Clammy’s from below.

Let’s get to it.

Ah, Little Rika, your devotion to duty is commendable.

Yeah, that’s what they keep telling me.

Chapter Thirty

It was difficult to work the key card when Barb had already yanked his pants halfway down his knees, but Jonas managed. They staggered into the Presidential Suite, struggling with each other’s clothes, kissing, panting, groaning, gasping. Jonas tripped over a divan and down they went.

“Ooof!”

“I’m so sorry!” Barb cried, leaning over him. “Are you all right? Am I too heavy? I’ll get off.”

“Not until I do,” he growled, and yanked her down for another scorching kiss. He heard the thud as one of her pumps hit the carpet (the other one, he was pretty sure, had been abandoned by the door). He undid the one button on her Givenchy jacket and saw the Victoria’s Secret matching navy bra beneath.

“Don’t you think—” Gasp, moan. “—that this is—” Groan, kiss. “—much better than—” Slobber, sigh. “—lab coats?”

“I’m not giving them up. I just might stop buttoning them all the way.” She was straddling him, tugging at his belt, when suddenly she went over as well. Now she was the one groaning, “Ooof!” and he was on top.

Not that he minded being on top.

“Fuck this,” he laughed. “Let’s go to the bedroom. “

“A place this big must have one,” she agreed, and he stood and pulled her to her feet.

In the ridiculously opulent bedroom, he carefully pulled off every item of clothing that he had so carefully picked out. She was considerably less careful; at least two of his shirt buttons were gone and he was afraid she had thrown his belt in the garbage.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Tug, tear. “For three days, I’ve been kicking myself for being such a fool.” Yank, pull. “I had a perfect opportunity and I ran away like a ninny.” Jerk, rip.

“I’ve been hiding in my apartment for three days,” he said, pushing her back on the bed. “That’s not much better. I just wasn’t up to facing you after what happened.”

“Yes, but that’s my fault.”

“Well, like I said, I kind of sprung it on you.”

“Yes, but like I said, I—”

“Barb?”

“Yes?”

“I’m about to live the six year fantasy. Can we stop talking for, um, ten minutes?”

She grinned up at him. “Ten? Oh, dear.”

“Look, it’s been a while.”

“I’ll try to stifle my humiliating laughter.”

“That’d be great.” He kissed her mouth, her lush, ripe mouth, savoring it so he could replay the moment over and over later, in his lonely bachelor’s bed. He kissed her neck as her fingers ran through his hair (thank God Fred had bullied him into a shower!), as she caressed and stroked.