Harley's kissed his cheek, his mouth, his temple; and it's different, but it's not bad. But it's also not this; warm and soft and open against her own, and her hands go to his cheeks, slide up into his hair. Her tongue flicks aginst his own, soft noises escaping her throat; and she's half a second from jumping up on him right there, when Jack pulls away enough to speak.

The grin on her face is hungry, and not for actual food; but her teeth catch against the vorner of her lip, and Harley pulls away. Reluctantly.

"Last time I smoked up, the boning down didn't so much work out. I'm half tempted not to take my hands off you." A slow sway against him, fingers trailing back down his cheeks, the sides of his neck; but one last, hard kiss, and Harley pulls away, tugging his robe back into place.

"But it does sound like one hell of a wake and bake. Ooh! Are there mimosas? If not, I'm getting mimosas."