They still have to get down the rock and they're still kind of in public, although Beth has gotten up to some things in similar places to this before, so she knows she can't do much else -- or shouldn't, anyway -- but she still grins against his skin and glances up at him.

"If it helps you, it helps your hands," she teases, then presses another kiss to his wrist, then a little higher, against the smooth skin of his forearm. She loves places like that on the men she's been with, where their skin is smooth no matter what kind of work they've done. Someone's hands can grow rough with calluses, her own are a good example of that, but the skin on the inside of the wrist and the elbow and the bicep, that always stays so smooth. Untouched. Until she presses another kiss to it.