Iman jumps at his sudden vehemence, and then smirks at his immediate retraction. "Uh-huh," she says, fiddling gently with the little wispy bits. "It looks nice. I bet you spend a lot of time on it."

She can't wait to mess it up.

"It is practically begging to be fucked with," she says, and pulls her hand into a fist, not tugging, but holding him pretty tightly. "Which is pretty appropriate."

Then she tugs, coaxing his chin up, leaning down to kiss him again with her other hand settled gently at the base of his throat. This is all very fucking hot, except for the part where the mattress is so unstable that she ends up losing her balance and tipping forward, knocking them both over onto Vince's back. She buries her face against his neck and laughs uproariously.

"This is," she says between snorts, "the worst surface I will ever have had sex on. And I've - I've had sex in a desert." What a weird fucking time that was.