Aidan raised one eyebrow, a smile appearing on his face. "I can do that," he said, pulling over the stool he'd sat on in front of the wheel, while he used one foot to push his bucket of clay next to it. Seated, the stool put his face at about the height of her waist.
His fingers dipped back into the clay, and used the other hand to push the hem of her shirt slightly out of his way. Using enough pressure not to tickle, he spread a stripe of clay over the skin of her stomach.