( he moves with her readily, half a low laugh caught in his throat as his arms lift with her pull. his badge clatters soft somewhere on the bar top, or the floor, whichever, unimportant as his gaze meets hers again and he rucks up that undershirt. pulls it up and off tanned skin and broad shoulders, the easy flex of corded muscle when McCoy sets to work on his pants and pulls them off with his boots, all unselfconscious efficiency.
down to those black, regulation shorts, the tile is cool against his bare feet, contrast to the heat he's found in the cradle of una's thighs. that's right where his hands go again, skimming over her legs, tracing under the hem of her skirt. his mouth follows, unable to resist: breathing hotly against her leggings, nuzzling her inner thigh. )
( she's fully aware that she's wearing far too many layers, though where she aches and itches for release the motions of his hands, light touch of his mouth against her leg-- she shudders a breath, leaning back slightly as her hands push through his hair. it's a contrast, the wish to hand it over to him, to let him care for her and the rougher need to get it done.
except una knows which will be sweeter in the end, if she can temper those urges. her hips lift slightly into his touch, getting a little more comfortable, nails grazing lightly against his scalp )
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down to those black, regulation shorts, the tile is cool against his bare feet, contrast to the heat he's found in the cradle of una's thighs. that's right where his hands go again, skimming over her legs, tracing under the hem of her skirt. his mouth follows, unable to resist: breathing hotly against her leggings, nuzzling her inner thigh. )
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except una knows which will be sweeter in the end, if she can temper those urges. her hips lift slightly into his touch, getting a little more comfortable, nails grazing lightly against his scalp )