A/N: Nothing too graphic :p
THIGH HOLSTER
The thigh holster was the first thing that had to go.
He ran his hand up the length of her leg, sliding under the silky fabric of her dress, and finding the gun hiding there. His fingers played with the holster, trying to get it off her, but he was also busy kissing the tender skin of her neck, and the way she was arching her head back into the pillow in approval was incredibly distracting.
"I don't know what's the sexiest," he whispered in her ear. "You in a dress, or the gun hanging on your thigh."
She brought her knee up against him then, and he had to close his eyes.
"Why don't you take both off?" She breathed out. "I'm not too bad on my own."
Truer words were never spoken.