"Keep dreaming, Tiger." she giggled, gently twisting her wrists free of his grip. Pushing him back lightly, she shifted to sit sideways on his lap, stealing a kiss as she did.

"Firstly, if there's motion on the ocean, the driver will know what we're doing, and I'll have to die of embarrassment." she explained practically, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, watching the little paths her fingers traced over the buttery soft fabric of his typically expensive suit. "And secondly, we both need to save our energy. If I waste it all now, your present could suffer."

Which was truth. More than once, she'd done it before a show and lacked a little something onstage. Early on, she had figured out the difference between a remarkable performance and a merely satisfactory one: wanting it. Dancing lost its urgency, its edge when she strutted out onstage, glowing with satisfaction. When she lacked that hunger, that genuine need to be touched, to be taken, she never shone quite as bright.

She wanted Ashely to see her at her best...wanted to leave him in a pool of his own lustful drool when all was said and done.

Just the idea of it made her grin as she stole another kiss.