Grace moans, hips pressing forward against his. Nothing ever sounds so sweet or so dirty as the way he says her name. Her motivations may have had a lot to do with distracting him, making him feel better, but they're fast being forgotten in favor of her own desperate need. Ducking her head, she kisses his neck, sucking at his skin, fumbling with her underwear, hardly conscious of the latter. She's more aware of his pulse under her tongue, the wall against her back, heart thundering in her chest. "Jerry," she says, a plea muffled against his shoulder, "I want you so."