Any second now she would change her mind and feel the burn of mortification sting her hard but then the Marshall said her name and in such a way that she could not look anywhere else but at him. She saw how his gaze drank in her body and watched as he rose slowly from his chair. Somehow she felt this was going to be harder than facing down the Castle brothers on the morrow. No other man had touched her before Sean and no other would have had it not been for the three she was intent on killing. Gradually he walked towards her, looking at her body the entire time.<br/><br/>She wanted him to look at her face, just once but he didn't, he pushed her back against the wall. The very air was sucked out of her as he growled his question, his hands already fumbling to remove her gun belt. Lust and hunger spurned her on, the knowledge that she really could be dead in another few hours and she did not want to die with the knowledge that the last hands to touch her had been violent torturous abusive hands. Marshall's would blot that memory out somehow, even for a small while. Still he did not look at her face and she wondered why not, was she so terrible to look at?<br/><br/>Somehow it didn't really matter though, the less she saw of his strange eyes the less possibly the better. She could imagine that the hands that were on her were Sean's and that this was their last time together. Her own hands moved then of their own accord, helping him to free himself of his shirt.<br/><strong>"Yes"</strong>she said breathlessly when suddenly his arms wrapped tight about her. She had not expected the embrace and her own arms clung to him as if in dire need of it. His face buried deep into her neck and she was certain he sniffed her, smelt her. It was a strange notion to get but she genuinely was certain of it. The notion had little time for fruition however as he suddenly picked her up and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.<br/><br/>Sarah buried her own face this time in to the crook of his neck and smiled a little finding herself inhaling his own scent. It was nothing like Sean's had been, no scent of farm animals upon him but his masculine sweat worked like a pheromone to her starved senses and when he placed her on to the bed she moaned softly. Watching him a brief moment undoing his pants, she fumbled with her own. Pushing the leather down over curved yet slender hips, lifting her bottom up from the bed to shimmy the garment down further, her eyes did not once leave his body.<br/><br/>She didn't want words, she didn't want to be told promises or hear false compliments. All she wanted was the comfort that he and only he could give her this night. Her legs kicked off the rest of the trousers, her naked body now revealed to him. The triangular patch of hair between her legs a lighter shade than the hair on her head. She looked disheveled already but mouthwatering for it and in a desert, there are sometimes more than one Oasis to be found.