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“Hydration,” he said, when I raised an eyebrow. “It’s a safety matter. We have a rule about it at work.”

“I’d very much like to hear the rule that applies to this.”

“It’s a short rule. Drink water.”

I laughed all the way down the hall. In the bedroom, he switched on the single lamp on the dresser, set the glass on the nightstand, and put his phone down beside the lamp. The room was quiet except for the old house settling and the wind combing through the trees outside the window.

Hudson turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, and I stepped between his knees, which put my face a little above his. I put my hands on either side of his jaw and kissed him slowly, and he slid his arms around my waist and held me there as if there were no need to rush.

“I have a proposal,” I said, when I finally lifted my head.

“I’m listening.”

“On Friday, I did a great deal of undressing without assistance. Tonight I’d like a more equitable arrangement. We take turns helping each other, and nobody has to do all the work.”

His mouth curved. “That sounds like a buddy system.”

“Exactly like a buddy system. You may go first.”

He took hold of the hem of my cream sweater and drew it up and over my head, being careful of my glasses, and dropped it on the chair beside the dresser. When I reached for the buttons of his charcoal flannel, I did it more quickly than I’d done on Friday, and I was gratified to discover that the practice had helped. He shrugged out of it, and I let it fall.

He knelt and unzipped my boots. I toed them off, and he chose that moment to find the waistband of my corduroy skirt, then glanced up at me and waited for a nod before he went any further than the zipper.

“Yes,” I said. “Go on.”

The skirt slid down, and I stepped out of it. Under it were the warm tights I had chosen for the cold.

“Wool again,” he said, regarding them with deep respect.

“It’s a mountain town. I dressed for the climate.”

“You dressed to defeat me.”

“I dressed to be warm. Defeating you is incidental.” I took hold of his belt. “My turn. Stand up, please.”

He stood. I undid the belt and the button of his jeans and pushed them down his hips, taking my time about it, and he stepped out and kicked them aside. Hudson in his shorts, with the lamplight along his shoulders and his chest, was a sight I intended to appreciate for as long as he permitted.

He peeled the tights down my legs in a few careful strokes, with a patience that made me want to hurry him, and then it was my turn again, and I took his shorts down. He stood in front of me completely naked and completely unembarrassed, and I let myself look.

“Your turn,” I told him, and turned my back so he could unhook my bra. He did, and he pressed a kiss between my shoulder blades before he drew the straps down my arms. When I faced him again he hooked his thumbs in the sides of my underwear and looked up.

“Last one,” he said.

“Last one.”

He drew them down, and I stepped out of them, and then I was standing naked in a lamplit bedroom in front of a man who looked at me as though I were the best thing he had seen all week.

He pulled me down beside him on the bed. For a while we lay on our sides, facing each other, and simply kissed. It was deep, lingering kissing, and I was surprised by how much of me it reached. He was warm all the way down, and I liked how much of him I could feel. I moved a hand over his chest, across the ridge of his ribs, and down his stomach, and he made a low sound against my mouth.

“Tell me what you’d like tonight,” he said. “I want to hear it.”

“Your hands. Both of them, if you’re willing. And your mouth wherever you like.” I stroked my fingertips along the line of his hip. “And I’d like to touch you at the same time. I don’t want to simply receive. I’d like to keep my hands busy.”

“Honey, I’d be thrilled.”

He bent his head and took my nipple into his mouth, and I arched toward him. His tongue circled the tight peak, then he pulled it gently between his lips until I heard myself gasp. I wrapped my fingers around him, exactly as he’d taught me, firm along the length with that small twist at the top, and he said something into my skin that sounded like a prayer with a few swear words in it.

“Good?” I asked.