The way his wet hair stuck to his head and face made her laugh. “You look like a wet dog,” she teased, stealing into his place under the water and rubbing the soap off herself. Making a cup of her hands, she poured water over his head, then leaned in to lick his face.
He rolled his eyes in fond exasperation and nuzzled her fingers, before watching her shamelessly, allowing his eyes to wander her bare flesh. Laughing out loud at the lick, he squirmed and moved to squeeze her shoulders.
Summer poured more water over him, eyes warm. Then she had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him, hands braced against his hips. “I think I’ll keep you,” she murmured against his mouth.