Wanda snorted at his ludicrous remark- as though she would want him to stop. In answer she pushed herself against his wandering hand with a little moan and deepened their kisses. Her fingers treaded lightly up the back of his neck to wind in his hair and her lips left his mouth to trail along his jawline and his throat as the fingers of her free hand fumbled unsuccessfully with the buttons of his shirt. He was, she decided, far too dry and the shirt was being too stubborn so she lifted herself from the water and pressed, soaking, against him while she tugged him insistently back towards the water with her. She wondered, distantly, if he had anything in his pockets that might be damaged by the water but decided that even if he did, surely the loss was for a much greater good.