He deepens the kiss, and she responds in kind, content to let him lead the dance. She's exquisitely aware of where his hands are, wishing he would just fold her up in his arms, but not wanting to push the issue.

The waves push them together, and she falls into him, laughing softly under her breath, still intent on each new combination of lips and tongue. Each one is a little less tentative, a little more insistent, his hunger speaking to hers, making it impossible not to answer.

If she can't tell him how much she longs for him, longs to have him close, longs to soothe all the stress from his face and from his body, longs to reach down and soothe his heart, then she can show him, one kiss at a time.