He pulled at the sash of her robe, his fingers pulling at it, opening it, kissing her, his lips trailing toward her neck, a growl escaping his lips at the feeling of her small hands on his chest. His eyes opened and he paused, however, when he registered the names she had listed -- though, granted, it took several moments.
"Gatsby's me." Wait. No. That didn't make any sense. He tried to focus. "I mean: that's my pen name."