“So?”
“So, I don’t intend on putting on a bawdy show for your men and my cabin boy.”
“No sense of adventure,” he said sadly, shaking his head. “And here I thought I had a gutsy wench, an audacious, bold woman who sneered at adversity and who would never back down from a challenge when it was presented to her—”
I had a quick look around to make sure no one was looking our way; then I flung myself on him, digging my fingers into his hair as I smashed my mouth against his, my body instinctively rubbing itself against him as I kissed him with everything I had, and boy, all of a sudden did I have a lot.
“Do you always hum when you kiss?” Corbin asked my tongue, which had pretty much gone to his mouth for a sleepover.
“Hmm?”
“You’re humming.”
I retrieved my tongue and pulled back enough so I could see him without my eyes crossing. “I am?”
“You were.”
“Oh. I thought I was just making happy noises.”
He pulled me up close to him and brushed little butterfly kisses around the corners of my mouth. “You did it before, too. I don’t mind it; it’s nice, but I just wondered.”
“Have I proven to you the unplumbed depths of my audacity, braveness, and inherent dashing abilities?”
“Not yet. Kiss me some more, and then we’ll see.”
Normally, I dislike being given orders, but this once I let it go and kissed him until his teeth rattled. I was just getting into it, adding a little hip action against him that hadhimhumming, when a soft popping noise, followed by a bemused chuckle, ruined everything.
“Splice the main brace! Looks like things have progressed nicely while I’ve been away. Quick work, Corb. Are congratulations in order? Am I allowed to kiss the bride? Or perhaps things haven’t gotten quite that far. Have I mentioned that I’m an ordained minister in an Internet-based religion? It’s legal for me to marry couples in thirty-five states, you know. Including California.”
“Ack!” I yelped, jumping back from Corbin, my cheeks firing up with a blush at the thought of someone witnessing us going at it. It was one thing to kiss him in front of a computer character that wouldn’t think anything of it, but another thing when there was a real live audience watching.
“Oh, Holder, no, not you,” Corbin groaned, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache.
“Bad timing, eh? My apologies, lass. Ifsomeonehad left me a note telling me not to jump on the ship, I wouldn’t have disturbed you two—”
“Do you still have the virtual reality unit on?” I interrupted, feeling my rudeness could be explained away if he could just get us out of there. “Can you log off?”
“It’s too late,” Corbin said, shaking his head.
“Maybe not. Maybe we can still get out. Maybe there’s time,” I told him.
He shook his head again. “I know how Paul thinks. The trap would have snapped shut the instant the log-in was complete.”
“What trap? What does Paul have to do with anything? What are you guys talking about?”
“Can you leave?” I asked.
Holder looked mildly insulted. “I apologized already—”
“What Amy wants to know is if you can log off. I can tell her the answer, though.”
“You two have been dippin‘ into the rum keg, haven’t you?” Holder reached up to his temple. “Since it’s obvious three’s company here, I’ll be on my… hmm.”
The hope for escape, which had flared for a moment or two, died a sad, lonely death.
“What’s going on here, Corb?” Holder asked, his fingers dancing around either side of his head in a fruitless search for the virtual reality glasses.
“You’re trapped here the same as we are. I’m almost completely certain that Paul has launched an entrapment module to lock players into the game. And I was about to seduce Amy, which, going by the look she’s giving me, is now off,” Corbin said.
