[Ishmael's quick thinking makes Charlie smile before he even knows where she's going with it. This girl doesn't want to play this game, but she's the type that meets a challenge with inspiration, huh? He likes those types-

His eyes dart to her chest, brows raised and lips jutting forward. He's impressed with how... shameless she's being. Or maybe it'd be more polite to say this is 'pragmatic' behavior. Very responsibly and completely rationally shoving her tits at him, sure.

Her freckles are cute. A fond crinkle forms at the corner of Charlie's eyes.] You.

You're thinkin'! [He points at her with the designated finger, then towards his head.] You got good ideas. Yeah, you'll do well here. [He sounds a little like a letch, but it's praise?

After running his mouth, Charlie reaches forward to press his finger into Ishmael's collarbone. He traces along it, the texture of freckled skin beneath, to trail down her sternum and then dip between her breasts. His fingers fan out, careful to hover over the actual swell of her chest and only run the one finger between them.

When he finishes his fingers curl slowly inward. That was nice.] Let's see if you can make the next one as pleasant, eh?