She wasn't. And he was wearing tight leather and he was going to probably go insane any moment now. But, for the time being, her thighs, his hips... His hand was doing a bit of wandering, sliding down between the two of them. He didn't need to pull off any more clothing in order to trace his fingers up along the inside of her thigh, and then slip between her legs, after all.

Guitarist hands. His fingers were very deft. Hello, Raven.

(At the very least, his other hand was making a lame attempt at tugging his trousers down, now. Sort of. Bloody hell, he used to be good at this.)