He can’t help himself. She’s noticed that.
There’s heat in the way his eyes rake over her, the sexy burn of his gaze as he follows her fingers strapping on the gun, the curve of her legs. He does this often, blatantly staring, mentally undressing her, not bothering to be subtle.
It turns her on, his naked, unabashed lusting after her. She basks in the guilty pleasure of being utterly objectified, desired. The way he looks at her feels like foreplay, and she has a sneaking suspicion that soon they’ll see this mutual, explosive spark through to its logical conclusion.