A slow easy pace of exploring each other's mouths was set, his tongue intertwined with hers as he held her close. He hadn't kissed anyone in so long; her lips were all he had wanted for as long as he could remember. And it was sheer snogging, utter bliss for him in that pose with her, her body soft and warm and supple in his arms.
After what seemed far too soon, Neville pulled back, his breath coming short at first, "If we don't go, I'm going to take you up on that telli offer and snog with you all night," he warned, a note of seriousness in his voice, "Miss Abbott, you do like dancing, don't you?" he asked, teasing her with his mock sternness, arms about her.
And before she could answer, he held her tightly and apparated them, to Chelsea, to a small alley he knew of from his days of work and wandering about London. It was dark, and there was a smell of Chinese food about them as they stopped spinning in that moment. The spot was only blocks form the club.