Raine's breath grew shallower as Solomon worked his slow, methodical way down her back, and by the time he stopped she was very nearly perfectly still. Each point of contact was magnified far beyond the impact it reasonably should have, and there was a quiet, powerful temptation to simply lean back against him, and see what happened.

In the end she couldn't quite say what stopped her. Perhaps the consideration of their emotional states; perhaps the relatively impractical locale. But the moment passed with Raine practically frozen there, and then Solomon was stepping away, and Raine centered herself.

When she turned, she extended one hand, palm-up, for the soap. "I'm sure you don't," she said, and, "Yes, I'll take that." Though the blush from earlier remained, she managed to maintain an even tone, and she kept her eyes on his.