Lee smiles. 'Smell good' is a compliment she can handle, since it's something she is able to control and not something that was bestowed on her, an accident of genetics. All her clothes smell like her perfume, even the things she's left behind at his place and hasn't worn in a while.
She rubs her nose against his, kisses him again. Her fingers bury among the curls around the back of his neck, tugging lightly and then letting go, letting them spring back into position the way she does idly when they're sitting or laying together. It is very easy to get carried away — even aware that there are a lot of people on the other side of the door, her awareness is rapidly narrowing down to only what is in front of her.
That and the little voice whispering inside her head that won't go away. It annoys her; isn't she supposed to be better, now?
He's distracting, though. When she feels real heat starting to build between them she has to pull away. Not even for him is Lee about to start dry-humping in some office building.