When he puts his mind to it, Jesse can wait out the best of them. His willingness to indulge in his vices to excess might give a different impression, which suits him just fine; but point is, he could wait for most things if he wanted to.

Right now he really, really doesn’t want to.

“Can you blame me? Been waitin’ ages for—” Her thigh slips between his, and he bits his lip almost hard enough to break the skin, his train of thought hopelessly lost. Distantly, he realizes there was a challenge made. Maybe he should be playing it cool or something for the sake of his pride. But really, he doesn’t care at all if she knows how much he wants this.

So soon as she finishes undoing that first torturous button, he lets out an impatient sound that is very nearly a growl and reaches out to slip his fingers beneath hers.

“Now you’re just tryin’ to drive me crazy.”

And he doesn’t mind it one bit. Still, he makes short work of the buttons, a few of them maybe dangerously close to being pulled off rather than undone. But when he goes to slide the fabric off her shoulders, it’s slower. Calmer. Almost reverent. Even knowing he can touch her now, he almost doesn’t know what to do with his hands now that there’s all this exposed skin.

“… God himself have mercy.”