“How odd. I’m all but guiding your hands, and yet still you sit, far more clothed than I. Are you waiting for something, Oz?”
“I’m waiting for you to fix it,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I /see/.” Summer’s smile was wry, amused, a little cutting. “Very well then.” A single smooth motion had her off the bed and to her feet, circling around to stand before him, heedless of her nudity. She traced her hands up his chest before pushing his shirt off his shoulders, then knelt, slowly, laughter in her eyes. Quick hands had his pinstripes undone before she sat back on her heels. “I think you’ll want to assist me here.”