"Yeah, I think I can tell," she answers with a grin, punctuating the statement with another roll of her hips, pressing herself down against Steve. His lips taste like beer and she makes a quiet noise of complain when he pulls away, even though she very much likes how his mouth feels on her jaw, too.

His shirt had been off before, there's no reason for it to be on now and Maeve pushes the material up and out of the way. To get it off, Steve will have to move back for a second, but it'll be a second that's very much worth it, she figures.

"Here," she says, then laughs. "Get this off. I liked it better before you put it on."