Sweeney gives no fucks about where they are or who might see. In the moment, there is only her and the warmth of her and the rush of his blood and need.

As she starts to move away, he catches her by both biceps, his grip tight to hold her there.

"Stay." The word rattles low, but it's not a command. He just wants it. So badly. The desperate longing reads in his eyes.

Just. Say. Yes.