What can she say? He's an excellent kisser. And she likes the taste of him, likes the sounds he makes when she runs her hands over his chest and down his sides.

Oh, now there's a wicked idea. She wonders what sound he might make if she were to just slip to her knees, kissing her way down his torso to drink from hollow of his hip, tasting the salt of his skin before the water can sluice it away.