When he leans in it frees her from the pull of his gaze, giving her the liberty to close her eyes, tilt her head back, surrender to his attention.

Her chest begins to heave.

She rolls her shoulders, trying to free herself from her clothing without pulling away or opening her eyes. Her breathing is audible in the quiet of the room.




The cloth makes a fluttering sound as it hits the floor.




Her corset is trimmed in black lace. Nothing too showy but still fine, hand-stitched. She pulls off her hat herself, waiting until his affections have moved on to her shoulder before tugging the leather cord away from her neck. She, too, will take care of her gun belt.

She's far too tense tonight to let him touch that.