Sometimes, conversation simply isn't necessary. Vex doesn't miss it. Percy pays her enough compliments with his hands as they rove over her curves with the pretext of cleaning the road dust from her skin. His mouth is an excellent accompaniment against hers, or on her neck, or teasing her ear. That last even wins him some shivers of appreciation.

Vex is slippery under his touch, wet and soapy and smooth, and she moves toward him purposefully. As lanky and underfed as Percy is, he's still firm with wiry muscle, and his arms and his hands speak to more physical labor than his speech and manners would suggest.

She can't say the combination is bad for her.

"You seem to have a few thoughts for what we'll do before we get there."