That elicits a soft snort. "'Have my way with you,'" Jess paraphrases as she straddles him and combs her hand free from his hair. It's fairly soft so she adopts an idle motion of raking her fingers through it.

"Next you're gonna use a word like 'lover'." Her head tips to the side, drawing all her hair over one shoulder. Lips smeared with cheap liquor, she spares him the notion of a rebuttal with a kiss that seals her rhetoric. It's short-lived as she shoves his back to the mattress. She knows how much strength to use, rationing out a little more than she'd normally use to keep a guy on his toes. A guy her type: Built like him, just with a lot less death on their conscience. It used to be none but lately it seems to be going up.

Jess leans down into him and rolls her hips back against his. The pressure of her hand flows from palm to fingertips; they move higher. When inhales to kiss him again, the heat of him flares where her breasts and stomach are lain along him.