Michael's never heard anything so erotic in his life. He moans into her neck, feeling keyed up and wild and amazing. He wants to get Lee naked, he really does, but the buttons have turned into an abstract idea he no longer has the patience to try and decode. With about a third of them undone, he tries to pull the whole thing up and over Lee's head, utterly singleminded.
It's not the most elegant maneuver—they're distracted and the opposite of graceful, and Lee has a lot of hair and long limbs—but the task is accomplished in the end, and Michael tosses the offending article of clothing away and lays them both down again. It's true, he's seen a lot of pictures of Lee, but the real deal is better. Right here in his bed, solid bones and soft skin. He kisses the middle of her collarbone and runs a hand up her bare chest, riddled with nerves because this is completely new. The feel and taste and smell of her is all so good. He sighs audibly, happily.
He's momentarily distracted enough to forget about her pants coming off. There's so much happening.