Gently, she pushed his hand away. “I don’t want to wash my hair right now, Isaac, don’t do that please.” She didn’t argue with him about the other thing; it would probably be a point of contention between them for a long time. To ease the sting of denial a little she kissed his fingertips. “You can help me wash my back though?”
Isaac stiffened slightly at the reprimand, moving to tug away his hand before her lips were kissing the tips and he simply cast her a sheepish, apologetic smile. “I’d like that,” was all he said by way of response, wanting nothing more than to kiss her but needing to keep the moment innocent and not heated.
Deliberately she dropped the bottle of soap in his lap. “Anything that lets you touch me?” she teased. Turning around in the water, she turned off the flow and sat with knees tucked up to her chest, presenting her back to him.