It was difficult for him to not look at every curve and shape, their frame was perfection and he felt himself imagining getting to slide his hands over them. The movement of the hand caught his eyes and it wasn’t long before he stared at the chest, he was a lot closer now and his gaze may have lingered a bit too long, but it was enough to let him focus back on their face.
“Ya got the perfect figure ta’ get them bills paid for sure, and ah was referring more ta’ ya sharin whatever is tasty from ya.“ he smirked, trying his best not to get too eager with his flirting, even when a faint purring noise came from deep inside his chest, Striker was enjoying himself quite a lot and feeling very calm and comfortable.
“Well, hard work as a farmhand, extra jobs like huntin’ game and other problem solvin’ skills ah had acquired.” At this he had raised himself up some, making an excuse to tense up some muscles, trying to show off what years of hard manual labor would do to an imp’s body, though thanks to his shirt covering up all the nasty scars from hunting-related jobs, he didn’t have to explain himself of those just yet.
“After some time ah gathered enough cash ta’ build this place, beginning with the bar and working mahself up from there…and now ah have a pretty saloon with more than enough ta’ help out the community.”
Even as he was an assassin, using being a saloon owner as a cover, he did manage to help his own goal of bettering imp kinds lives around him, one thing he was proud and happy to do.
:: A few droplets of his drink spilled down onto his chest as he couldn’t help but to stare, openly admiring the imp’s muscles as they were flexed, missing his mouth and causing his drink to spill. With a light chuckle at his own clumsiness he dabbed the moisture with a spare napkin on the counter.
“Mm, ya clearly work hard babe. I wish I had that much drive tah do somethin’.” He replied, tracing the rim of his glass with one manicured finger. “I’m sure a lotta people are happy ya built it too. I am...” He admitted, his cheeks flushing a little. Shit that was way too sappy. He was trying to get in his pants not make him feel uncomfortable with... Whatever the hell that was.
He cleared his throat, reaching out to brush one hand over his arm, distractedly tracing over his shoulder. “I’m glad I metcha tonight. Thanks for the invitation.” The fingers over his arm stopped their exploration, reaching instead to cup his chin. “Let me give ya a little thank you, yeah?” He grinned, his face inches from the imp’s, eyes dropping down to his lips and up again, biting his own. ::
