*kicks off his shoes on the third try, his coordination gone a little fuzzy with the tingling warmth trailing down his neck (a thousand little sparks shooting straight south)*
*presses his lips to your temple, your hair, anything he can reach, inhaling your scent (flowery shampoo / sweeter than I'd imagined)* *echoes your work on his shirt, inching your zipper down bit by tiny bit until he reaches the end of its give; but instead of peeling the fabric from your skin (and oh, how the whole of him reels at the thought), he wraps his arms around you again, dipping his head to catch your lips once more (kiss me, just kiss me)*
*has no idea who's moving whom, but the door is no longer at his back and when he stumbles over some obstruction, the breath gushes from him on a giddy laugh (was that your shoe or mine? did I just break one of those spiky little heels off?)*