"No thinking? That's right in my lane, baby," he jokes, because of said nerves, but it's easy to forget about them when Maeve is suddenly there in his space, warm and reassuring. She pulls him in and Steve goes willingly, ducking his head to meet hers.

It's a slow burn kind of kiss, unhurried and languid, and Steve hums a little as her mouth opens in invitation, deepening the kiss as his arms go around her slim waist. It does serve as a very good distraction, and Steve walks her back slowly toward the bed as his hand slips under her shirt, sliding up her back until he reaches her bra, unhooking it with one hand.

Steve tugs off his own shirt and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to grab her hips and urge him onto her lap so he can kiss her again. With one hand cradling the side of her face, he slides the other up her shirt again, covering one of her breasts and giving it a gentle squeeze through the lace.