Liz's smirk against his skin is small and maybe it's her turn to be a little smug. She tastes the curve of his right pectoral, and she follows the swirl of the grooved design in his skin up to his shoulder, with her tongue. She indicates with deft hands -- mostly through a light shove -- that he should lie back.

She follows, as he goes; rests her weight on her knees (one on either side of his stomach), though she is, in effect, sitting on him. She leans over Red and smiles at him, tiny and unselfconscious and right up close, as she takes a half a second to tuck her hair behind one ear, then the other. Then she bends down the last inch or two and kisses him, slow and firm, one hand curled around the back of his neck while her thumb strokes his sideburn.