What escaped Kami's slightly parted lips at his touch barely counted as a word - too breathy and soft and surprised; it teased against his damp hair, along the curve of his ear. Her hand at his shoulder shifted, too, at his increased closeness until her fingers curled over him. Short nails dug slightly into his skin as her grip tightened.
Catching her reaction a few seconds too late, Kami giggled breathlessly and forced her fingers to relax. Then she slipped her palm along his shoulder to rest, cupped, at the base of his neck. "You know," she whispered, "I'm doubting anyone's more dangerous than you at this point."
Almost without thinking, her fingers worked their way into his damp curls. Kami's eyes half-closed and he could hear her take a shallow, impatient little breath to calm herself. "Really, really, really doubting it, Mr. Ezra Dufraisne. God."