Such brash encouragement, he should know better. His shift means more incidental contact, her side flush against him and her mouth more secure over his, the spark of her mood flaring suddenly to life. Navigating boundaries is delicate work but stolen moments are rare, wasting this one when he's so gratifyingly responsive would be tragic.

Taking its queue, her hand skims up --

The kiss stumbles as Carol needs both hands to reach for her forgotten fishing pole, which is tugging urgently. It figures.