Dan touched a finger to her lips. “Stop talking. The quicker we get there, the quicker I can take you back to bed.”

Jess used all her willpower to resist the urge to kiss his finger. Instead, she drove, not daring to look at Dan until they reached the hotel, which was buzzing more than usual.

“Something’s going on,” Jess said and Dan nodded before they both heard someone call, “Sir!”

Jennings leapt on them. “Thought you’d be here, Sir.” Then he blushed and stammered, “I just meant…”

So Jennings had figured it out. Jess stiffened, unwilling to allow whatever was between her and Dan to be subjected to the ribald commentary of the army.

“Spit it out,” Dan said to Jennings, obviously as annoyed as she was although she knew it wasn’t Jennings’ fault that he’d shown, for once, such perspicacity.

“We’ve been recalled,” Jennings said. “We’re going into Munich. They’re saying it’s almost over. And we have to leave in half an hour if we’re going to make it to the muster point on time. That should give you time to…ummm.” Jennings blushed again.

Half an hour. No time to worry about gossip and scuttlebutt, then. “I promise I’ll return him in half an hour,” Jess said, which made Jennings flush so extravagantly it was impossible to tell he had freckles anymore.

Jess took Dan’s hand and they hurried to the elevator, mostly unnoticed in the general hubbub about Munich. They restrained themselves until they reached the door of Jess’s room where, once safely inside, they turned to each other at the same time. As their mouths met, their hands worked furiously at clothes, she unbuttoning his trousers, him lifting her skirt and pulling down her panties, both so ready that the instant she could, she wrapped her leg around him and he lifted her up, pressing her back into the wall.

He slid into her, moving so quickly that she gasped at the overwhelming rush of sensation and she shook her head vigorously when he misunderstood her gasp and he said, “Sorry, I’ll slow down.”

“No,” she could barely say the words. “Please don’t.”

* * *

After they’d recovered enough to be capable of speech, they both laughed.

“We’re worse than sophomores at a frat house party,” he said.

“We are,” she agreed. “I blame you entirely.”

“Yes,” he grinned. “My fault of course.”

He lowered her to the ground and kissed her, then moved off to the bathroom to sort out the rubber and the smile fell off Jess’s face. He had to go. And she’d miss him, of that she was certain.

She pulled down her skirt and put her panties back on, only to have him say, when he re-emerged from the bathroom, “Can I take off all of your clothes?”

“Surely you’re not capable of doing that again already?” she asked incredulously.

He laughed. “No, you’ve finally worn me out. But we still have fifteen minutes and I want to lie down beside you for all of those minutes.”