Smarm is not something that Robin could ever regret; one might have an easier time convincing someone that they regret breathing. He is nothing short of utterly pleased when she moves forward, on top of him.

With the way she's glaring at him (almost playfully, he thinks), he has more than enough time to bring his other gloved hand up to his mouth, biting at the tips of his fingers and tugging until he's managed to remove his glove with his teeth. He could have just used his hand, yes, but that's busy at her back, feeling (counting) up her ribs. Besides, it's a warning; he wants her to know what she's really getting into.

"All right, then." He nuzzles her chin up and out of the way (seeming entirely against doing anything helpful with his hands, this time around--that newly freed fingers are busy with her hair, just brushing down the back of her neck), "What is one of the best things I can say to a girl?"

It's all right if she doesn't come up with an answer. He runs his lips along her neck, leaving kisses here and there--he expects her to be a little distracted.