"They are, right? Who needs clothes?" His breath catches and he can feel goosebumps rising on his skin as she runs her hands up his chest, and it makes him shiver. They've been here already, both of them with their shirts off, but he'd been a little less tossed around like a rag doll and she a little more emotionally worse for the wear. It's like they can't win here with the timing but in a way, that makes it all the more excitable. He plays at the waistband of her pants, dipping his fingers just under the fabric, and grinning a bit. "This is like, the slowest game of low-stakes strip poker I've ever played, by the way."

The mere idea of doing something that could re-break his leg is, admittedly, intriguing, but he has to agree that's not a thing either of them wants. He's about ready to shoot a quip back at her but then she's rolling her hips and there's a sigh from her and maybe a moan from him and shit, he's never hated cars more in his entire life.