(I'm so sorry for the delay!)
The rustle of fabric turned her head. As her hands fell away from the kettle she'd just placed on the stove, her lips curved upward. She liked very much that he was getting comfortable, and liked it even more that he was playing just as easily with her.
"What about me?" she asked, turning her back against the kitchen counter and gripping the edges with her palms. She leaned a bit, still smiling - but coyly now - and added, as if just realizing, "Oh, am I hot?" With a hop, she set herself on the counter and then held out a hand. "Why don't you help me with that? I really can't tell. Am I?"
'Forward' was a good word for it. The alcohol was still in her system, quieter now that time separated her from the last drink, but her normal reserve was still miles away. She kicked her feet and the smile turned brighter again. She wiggled her fingers, inviting him closer.