Fuck, she feels so good when she wriggles like that. Of course, those images she's painting don't hurt either. He's pretty confident he's ready to start heading towards where they're looking to go.

Sweeney's breath begins to deepen, and his hand lifts to cup her face. His gaze dips to her lips and back to her eyes with hints of yearning.

"Know we ain't got that chair." He traces his thumb slowly across her lip, his attention slipping to it as it does. His eyes finds hers again with an arch of his brow.

"But ya wanna give it a go anyways?" He's not talking about dancing.