Billy rolled onto his side, and dragged Goodnight's arm over him, across his middle. He ought to get dressed again, he was sure. If a maid came in in the morning--did they do that in nice hotels like this--it would be one thing to be caught in the arms of another man, and another thing entirely to be caught in his arms still clad in nothing by the sheet.

Still, he did not make an effort to find even his underpants. The touch of skin on skin was a balm to his nerves, for the moment. The warmth of their touch sank through him.

"Fine by me," he said softly.