He'd never been one to wear any kind of cologne or scent, never really saw the point. Not smelling like a sweat shop was one thing, but needing to stink yourself up... That he just didn't get. He had no idea that he had his own odor -well other then when he'd been sweating heavily- and the knowledge that he not only had such a distinctive scent, but that it was affecting her so much... Well he simply wouldn't know what to say about that. Though he might be rather flattered deep down. She, on the other had, had an oddly heady array of scents about her, each complimenting and building on the last. There was the flowery scent of her hair, very natural and not overly pungent. That was the most powerful, laying over a slightly musky odor, likely her perfume. He was still left with several other scents, too faint to pick out of the mix, but building it up into something he'd never forget in all his days.
He was used to women smelling sticky sweet, fake and almost overpowering. But everything about her was subtle. Well, everything except the way she'd thrown herself at him not a moment ago. The way she was all but clawing at his shirt in an attempt to get to the lean flesh beneath. He'd never much cared how he looked -as one could tell by the chaos that is his hair- never worked his body for the ascetic of it. His body was a tool, just as his mind and his gun were, and he needed to keep it in top form. He only pushed himself so hard so that he could be positive that his body would perform no matter the conditions. He'd been shot before, in the shoulder that now troubled him in the winter, and the helplessness of that soft of wound... he never wanted to worry about that again. Now he knew his body would keep going, even with such a wound. He wouldn't be left crippled and bleeding ever again.
His hand stilled against her hair were he'd been stroking it lightly, unable to keep himself still. He cocked his head slightly at the slightly odd statement. Well, maybe not an odd statement so much as a sudden one. Just proof that her mind was working much better than his at the moment. He hadn't even considered that she might just be in this for a roll in the hay and be done with him in that way come morning. Finally his fuzzy brain wrapped fully around the meaning of her statement and he smirked "I'm glad. I think you might be stuck with me, so long as your in town..."
He had a feeling this woman was going to be an addiction for him. He just hoped they could keep this from her brother and his family. They didn't trust him much as it was, he didn't need to be waving something like this in their faces. The women would figure it out, eventually. Those girls had several types of sixth sense about them and he doubted you could hide anything from them if they were paying attention. As her next words reach him, his mind screamed NOT ENOUGH! Already knowing it would take longer than that to quell this desire for her. Four months, maybe, and he could handle her departure. But even then he knew he'd still miss her, crave her.
Finally his lips curved in a wicked smirk "I think I can handle that... How about we try and keep this quiet though? I'm not not too keen on taking on your brother and his pals in a fist fight" Or getting shot, for that matter. Though he figured for the crime of sleeping with a mans little sister, face to face punishment would likely be the choice. Fists to flesh if that group had any say. They seemed to like that sort of conflict resolution, after all.
.Seth.Johns.
.thirty.
.6'3". brown hair .blue eyes.
.1984 Cherokee XJ. Hunter Green.
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