[ Her tone is soft, like it only is behind closed doors, like it only is with Angel and nobody else. She closes her eyes at the kiss and holds her closer, one of those tight hugs that leaves you feeling satisfied. Parker kisses her shoulder and tilts her head up for another kiss, pressing her lips to hers. Just once, before pushing her face against the hollow of her neck. Like that, pressed so close, skin on skin, she finds it bothersome to realise there are still too many clothes on her.
It is a chore to separate herself from Angel, but she does it. Picks her up to set her on the bed, scooting out to the edge to rise up to her feet. She pulls off her bra (a little clumsy, not exactly the suave or beautiful way Angel had done it), discarding it to the growing pile of clothes. Turns to face Angel, reaching out to slip her hands through her hair gently, again getting distracted with getting rid of her clothes when she's right there and it's hard to keep your hands to yourself. In any case, it's just her jeans and tight black briefs left, so she's not that far off. At least there is a nice view of her slightly dipped hips, the way her muscles are there but without being too much, of someone clearly athletic and obvious marks of her brashness and running, here and there bruises - and here and there hickeys too, but she's sure Angel knows well where those are, considering she was the one that gave them. ]
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[ Her tone is soft, like it only is behind closed doors, like it only is with Angel and nobody else. She closes her eyes at the kiss and holds her closer, one of those tight hugs that leaves you feeling satisfied. Parker kisses her shoulder and tilts her head up for another kiss, pressing her lips to hers. Just once, before pushing her face against the hollow of her neck. Like that, pressed so close, skin on skin, she finds it bothersome to realise there are still too many clothes on her.
It is a chore to separate herself from Angel, but she does it. Picks her up to set her on the bed, scooting out to the edge to rise up to her feet. She pulls off her bra (a little clumsy, not exactly the suave or beautiful way Angel had done it), discarding it to the growing pile of clothes. Turns to face Angel, reaching out to slip her hands through her hair gently, again getting distracted with getting rid of her clothes when she's right there and it's hard to keep your hands to yourself. In any case, it's just her jeans and tight black briefs left, so she's not that far off. At least there is a nice view of her slightly dipped hips, the way her muscles are there but without being too much, of someone clearly athletic and obvious marks of her brashness and running, here and there bruises - and here and there hickeys too, but she's sure Angel knows well where those are, considering she was the one that gave them. ]
Sorry. No lace.