[He doesn't understand, but that works. That definitely works. His palms flat along her legs, run up the seam of her jeans till fingertips hit skin and he moans. Just--appreciative.]

Wish I had somethin pretty t'say t'you. [The touch dips into the small of her back, squeezes over her sides, drags thumbs along the low edge of her ribs before sliding up.] What's that again? Say it again.