She laughed at his question, totally surprised by it. Most people knew what schadenfreude was. “Schadenfreude. It means to take delight in other people’s suffering,” that had lightened her mood at least a little bit. “And anyhow, just a back massage would help probably.”
"Come on then." he said, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom again. He took his towel from around his waist, not caring that he was still slightly hard. Stopping in the middle sometimes did that. Drying her off, he motioned for the bed and headed over to the dresser to snag a pair of boxers.
She tried not to blush when he dried her off because that would have been silly. Her gaze flicked down to his groin momentarily before she turned to crawl onto the bed without bothering to put anything on. She just didn’t have the energy. Scooting along the covers to sort of hug the pillow, she lay on her stomach, back bared to him.
Evan pulled the pair of boxers on before climbing into the bed with her. Leaning up to her shoulders, he pressed a tiny kiss against one and ran his fingers along her back. "Remind me why we bothered leaving the bed in the first place?"
She shivered at the touch, chuckling at his question as she answered very practically, “Because we were both sticky with vodka. We should’ve just grabbed a washcloth or something.” She glanced over her shoulder at him with a faint smirk, “Harder, baby, harder.” Alright, now she was just being mean and she knew it. Technically, this could count as part of the schadenfreude.
"You're a tease, you know that?" he asked her. "Get me all hot and bothered, make me stop in the middle of it and now you're saying stuff like that. Brat." Evan muttered, pulling his lips away from her skin and moving his hands up her back to her shoulders.