Sweeney shivers and his breath catches. Even in asking for something, one can't really prepare for getting it.

"Very convincin'," he offers, one dimple sinking.

His hands lift, ready to take her hips, but suddenly he isn't sure which game they're looking to play. So they hover a couple of inches away from her skin, and his brow lifts in question as to if he's supposed to not be touching her.

Sweeney's sure he's going to end up winning either way.