He rested his forehead against hers, voice low. "Shower."
Felicia nodded, still a little shaky when he helped her down from the counter. The hotel shirt hung open around her.
He took her hand and led her back toward the bedroom and the en-suite beyond it.
The bathroom was already warm from the residual heat of the night before. He turned the water on full, steam quickly filling the glass enclosure.
They stepped in together, the hot spray cascading over their bodies, washing away the evidence of the kitchen and the morning.
He reached for the body wash again, pouring a generous amount into his palms. This time the washing was slower, more thorough—his hands gliding over her shoulders, down her arms, across her breasts, lingering to roll soap-slick nipples between his fingers until they peaked once more.
