Swallowing, he peered down at Noelle, floored by the sheer calm reflecting back at him. "You okay, babe?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course. What do you think I am, a pansy-ass damsel who weeps at the first sign of trouble?

It suddenly occurred to him that for the first time in years, they were about to be alone together for more than five minutes. Just the two of them. On a small jet. Tens of thousands of feet in the air. Christ. Maybe he should've packed a parachute, just in case.

You're such a bastard," she sighed. He chuckled. "Are you really insulting the man who just gave you an orgasm?

I hate phones," he grumbled into her neck. "Seriously, I wanna go back in time and murder Alexander Graham Bell." He sat up with a groan. "Or was it Edison who invented the phone? I can never remember." She had to laugh. "I'm pretty sure it was Bell.