"Mmhmm," she hums, pulling off her stockings and dropping them aside. "I know what I like."
That little flush is cute, too. Her gaze roves over the line of his shoulders, his arms. It's one thing to be behind him on a horse or to link an arm with his, feeling out how big he is under his shirt. It's another entirely to have him undressing.
"Keep going," she says, playfully. "Then you can unwrap the rest of me yourself."
"You are some woman," he says, not for the first time, and likely not for
the last. His fingers are sure on the buttons, and then on the cummberbund
around his waist. He stands up to drop that, revealing the broad expanse of
his chest, his big arms. The hair on his chest and stomach is light of
color, lighter than his beard.
She chuckles under her breath, biting back the temptation to tease him more, and she gets to her feet, moving right over to him. She can't resist touching, letting her hands settle on his hips, sliding up his sides.
Tess runs her hands up his sides, up his chest –– a good excuse to touch as much as get her arms out of the way for him to tug at her laces. Her bodice comes loose and she shucks it off, leaving her in nothing but a gossamer-thin chemise and her skirt, which drops with a single unclasped hook.
"I think we're going to keep getting along perfectly, then," she smirks.
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That little flush is cute, too. Her gaze roves over the line of his shoulders, his arms. It's one thing to be behind him on a horse or to link an arm with his, feeling out how big he is under his shirt. It's another entirely to have him undressing.
"Keep going," she says, playfully. "Then you can unwrap the rest of me yourself."
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"You are some woman," he says, not for the first time, and likely not for the last. His fingers are sure on the buttons, and then on the cummberbund around his waist. He stands up to drop that, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, his big arms. The hair on his chest and stomach is light of color, lighter than his beard.
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"Come on, lady, keep it together," he grumbles, ducking his head.
"Get over here so I can return the favor."
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"I'd love that, too."
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"Well," he says, his own hands going to the laces on her bodice, "I do want you to get what you want. I've a vested interest in it, in fact."
He wants to lift her up and throw her onto the bed - not to make it rough, or to dominate her, but to get quickly to the passion he feels for her.
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"I think we're going to keep getting along perfectly, then," she smirks.
All yours, outlaw.