" They made their way into the sleeping bag. It was crowded, and she was still naked, so it only took about three seconds flat for him to get hard again. She reached between them. “Are you sure there aren’t any more condoms?” He flexed at her words, then groaned softly. It was going to be a long night. “Positive.” He was torn between asking her to stop tormenting him and begging her to keep on doing it. The outcome of the latter as inevitable, and in a sleeping bag, more than a little messy. Just a few seconds more, he told himself as he closed his eyes and gave himself up to the steady stroking of her hand. He would stop her before things got out of control. But Phoebe being Phoebe and his attraction to her being what it was, that point of “out of control” arrived a lot faster than he would have realized. Painfully aroused and right on the edge, he grabbed her wrist. “You’re killing me.” “So not my purpose.” Then she stunned him by opening the sleeping bag, pushing it away and sliding down between his legs. As her fingers toyed with his testicles, her mouth settled on his erection. From there it was a thirty-seven-second journey to heaven. "