Phil walked them both slowly down the hall, the rhythm of his gait sending their bodies gently rubbing against each other, which kept distracting him from making faster progress. By the time they reached the bedroom, he was already half-hard, and it was with a little pang of regret that he lay her back onto the bed.

The pang disappeared quickly, though, as he toed off his shoes and climbed on over her, kissing her as he worked at his jacket. He got it off of one arm and most of the way off the other before he had to touch here again, and he ran his fingers through her hair. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, a note of reverence in his voice.