It was only fair - but that wasn't it at all; it wasn't about fairness or evening the playing field, it was about the way her heart sped up in her chest as he smoothed his hand over her back, tested the give of the elastic with his fingers.

She pressed a kiss to his breastbone, the skin there warm and smooth, and then looked up at him. He was so close, his cheeks flushed green slightly - other people might have found that strange or unsettling, but to Christine it was beautiful. She pressed gentle fingers against the hollow underneath his cheekbone, gazing up into warm brown eyes.

"Yes," she said. It came out as a whisper; no, oh no, he had to know she wanted this. She leaned forward, pressed their lips together briefly before repeating it more definitively. "Yes, you may."