He guessed correctly -- it was indeed what she had in mind. Her own grin matched his in the second before their lips met. She was not a shy kisser; Savannah knew what she liked and what she wanted, and, right now, she wanted to encourage Pyrrhus to return the affection.
Her breasts, clad only in his t-shirt, pressed against his shoulders and, and, although she was certainly eager, she was also mindful of his dislocated shoulder. She was careful with her movements as she shifted her position a little. Her hand slipped from his and moved down his chest, a smooth caress with the butt of her hand against his warm skin, until she came to his waist band. Her fingers took over, deftly searching for a button to undo or a zipper to unzip.
No, Savannah certainly was not shy at all. She only wished he hadn't come across her in such a ragged condition in the hallway...