Oz had apparently trained himself to find the sound of doors locking erotic; the mark of a man who seldom bothered to keep secrets except when it came to affection. In any case, the noise made his pulse quicken. He nuzzled his nose against the top of her neck just behind her ear and ran his hand down her arm, slipping her dress off as he went. It was a testament to her dance training that even this felt so graceful as the sleeve slid down her arm. Oz imagined an artist could paint them in this position and credibly call it art rather than vulgarity.
To get her other sleeve off he'd have to angle her body differently, either towards him or away. He decided on towards him: using his opposite arm to cradle her shoulders, he leaned her body back slightly as though they were waltzing and he'd just dipped her. This brought them face to face once again, and Oz took a moment to meet her eyes, exploring the various shades of blue, before he leaned in to finally kiss her.
To get her other sleeve off he'd have to angle her body differently, either towards him or away. He decided on towards him: using his opposite arm to cradle her shoulders, he leaned her body back slightly as though they were waltzing and he'd just dipped her. This brought them face to face once again, and Oz took a moment to meet her eyes, exploring the various shades of blue, before he leaned in to finally kiss her.
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MJ is the light of my life <3