God, she wanted this. She hadn't even realized, but she did. Both of them. She and Eames were unwrapping Arthur like a gift, and her hands slid inside his shirt, running over bare skin, tugging it off his shoulders.

Arthur's mouth was at her collarbone, and the mark Eames had made there was throbbing a little as he sucked on it. It made her moan, low in the back of her throat, one of the sounds she'd been making earlier with Eames. It was a needy kind of sound, though a bit more lazy now - she'd taken the edge off already, of course.