In its way this is as unusual for him as for her; Han has never pursued anyone quite like this, never been so willing to wait.  How he's been patient enough is a mystery to him and probably everyone else.  He can't pinpoint exactly when things shifted, when he started to find it endearing when she'd annoy him, when it turned from attraction to something more.  Three years he's been making excuses, putting off leaving, saying just this once, just one more job, and somewhere along the way he's given her more of himself than he'd intended to ever give anyone.  

The small, approving sound he makes is lost, muffled against her lips, his eyes falling shut.  It's less of a surprise this time, how eager she is to have her hands on him, but no less welcome.  For a long moment he just relaxes into that, thumb brushing her cheek, but finally he has to pull away, his heartbeat quickening already. 

"I have to put this down," he murmurs, soft and a little sheepish, shaking the bottle slightly.  

He'll want two hands to get her out of her shirt, after all.