[How she seizes opportunity with ease, winding her way around him— fingers still keeping a hold on his (his) collar, prompting a slow slide into a fiercely devilish grin on his own part. Chin raised, eyes hooded. No time wasted at all before he’s moved his palms to rest across her hips, coaxing her down into his lap inch by insistently present inch.]

Sweet of you, darling. Though I’ll warn you now, that’s not likely to be a risk.

[Not for him.]

You, on the other hand. [His voice trails, his attention meandering in a feigned show of thought that’s clearly false in every perceptible facet.

...and wholly shameless, besides.]

Avocado, was it?