Will could feel her questing hands, teasingly close, the anticipation heightening his desire. Close, and yet still infuriatingly far.
Oh, that's right. Clothes. Bloody inconvenient things, clothes. He broke from the kiss and leaned back to loosen his trousers and kick out of them – a fumbling, clumsy manoeuvre, hampered by the shoes he'd forgotten to shed. The moment he'd rid himself of both trousers and shoes, he was back on top of her, kissing her, palm sliding up her side to cup her breast, satin-smooth beneath his callused fingertips.