Arthur’s smile turned sly. “You’re not going to peer pressure me into sleeping with you to prove that I’ve got a wild streak.”

Eames’ eyebrows quirked upwards. “I’m not?”

“No, Mr. Eames.”

Arthur uncrossed his legs and leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees and eyes pinning the cocky bastard in front of him. “I’ll sleep with you because I want to pound you through the mattress.” Arthur stood in one fluid movement, only breaking eye contact to straighten his cuffs and button his jacket.

“Shall we?”