They were in the kind of universe where Tino wasn't thinking with the head on his shoulders-- that kind.
His fingers played with the band around her waist, tempted to pull the cottony fabric down off her hips. But he resisted. At least for now. He didn't want to rush things, blow his chances, and go home with blue balls. He knew that whatever lapse of judgment they were both having was going to be short-lived, and while he wanted to make the most of it, he also didn't want it to end prematurely.