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"What's wrong?" he murmured. "Why's your face all red all of a sudden?" He reached up gently and tapped her forehead. "You sick?" Mary-Beth sucked in a sharp breath, chest rising and falling in a small panic. Then she steadied herself, looked up at him through her lashes, and spoke in a trembling, shy voice.
"I… I wanted to say something. After everything that happened… I realized something too." She paused, clearly pushing herself to continue. "We don't have much time in this life, Caleb. None of us. We could be shot tomorrow. Caught by the law the next day. Maybe, maybe we get free somehow, but that chance is so small…"
Her fingers fidgeted together again, twisting nervously.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
Caleb blinked. "Ready for what, darling?"
Mary-Beth's throat bobbed as she swallowed. She leaned closer, voice so small it was barely a breath.
"I'm ready… for us to take our relationship to the next level."
Caleb froze.
At first he didn't register what she meant, his exhausted mind circling around the words without grasping the center. But then the meaning hit him. Fully. Clearly. Viscerally.
His breath caught.
His expression darkened, not with anger, but with intensity, seriousness, and something else entirely.
Excitement.
Slowly, his voice dropped lower, rougher, as though the meaning settled deep in his chest. "Mary-Beth… are you sure?" His tone sharpened with concern and protectiveness. "I don't want you doin' this because you're scared or pressured or thinkin' the world's endin'. I ain't takin' advantage of fear. Ever."
Mary-Beth stepped closer, her hand reaching for his sleeve. "I'm not scared," she said softly. "I've been thinking about it since before we move here to Shady Belle. Since you have taken care of me and protect me, always think for the safety of not just me but the gang as well. I just… realized I don't want to wait anymore."
Her voice trembled, not with reluctance, but with overwhelming emotion.
"I want this," she whispered. "With you."
Caleb's chest warmed painfully, sweet, protective, intense. He lifted a hand, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing over her flushed skin.
"You're absolutely sure?" he asked again, quieter now, giving her one last chance to change her mind.
Mary-Beth's eyes… watered. Softened and deepened even further. She took a tiny step closer, fingers brushing his hand on her cheek. "I'm sure," she whispered. "I've never been more sure."
He just looked at her deeply, and when he saw nothing but sincerity, love, trust, and a little nervous excitement… Her skin much more warm under his touch.
He kissed her.
And she melted into him completely, soft, warm, trembling with emotion as his arms wrapped around her waist. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his damp shirt. The kiss was slow, deep, full of meaning unspoken. It wasn't lust driven. It wasn't desperate.
It was intimate. Tender. Two hearts finally stepping into the same rhythm. The hallway around them was quiet, just faint sounds of camp movement downstairs, doors thudding, murmurs, the groan of old wood. But here, just outside his room, it felt private. Like the world had shrunk to just the two of them.
When they finally broke apart, Mary-Beth rested her forehead against his chest, breath warm against him.
Caleb's thumb brushed her cheek. "Alright," he whispered. "Then come inside. We'll talk… slow. Make sure this is what you really want. And if it is—"
He leaned in, forehead touching hers gently.
"—then I'll give you every bit of care you deserve."
Mary-Beth shivered. Not from fear.
From anticipation.
He opened the door, still holding her hand, guiding her inside his small but tidy room. She stepped in beside him as he gently shut the door behind them. The hallway fell into silence as soft candlelight flickered under the doorway.
The candlelamp flickered softly, casting warm gold across the room.
Mary-Beth stood in the center, hands clasped to her chest, shyly stealing glances at him. Caleb watched her, her gentle nervous breathing, her hopeful trembling, all of it stirring something deep and protective inside him.
"Sit," he murmured, motioning to the edge of his bed.
She sat, hands on her lap.
He knelt in front of her, hands resting lightly on her thighs, not grabbing, not rushing, just grounding.
"Before anything," he said quietly, "I need you to say it again. Just so there's no doubt."
Mary-Beth met his gaze, blushing but sure. "I want this, Caleb. With you. Because I… I love you."
That word struck like lightning.
Caleb inhaled sharply. His hand moved to hold hers, squeezing tightly but tenderly.
"I love you too," he whispered.
Her breath caught, relief and joy blooming in her expression.
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, their breaths mingling.
And slowly, naturally, they closed the distance.
Their first true, unrestrained kiss was soft, then deepened, warm and desperate in the way two people who feared the world might end tomorrow kiss.
He lifted her gently, guiding her back onto the bed as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Caleb eased her down onto the narrow bed, the old mattress creaking softly beneath them like it was whispering its own approval.
Moonlight slipped through the warped shutters, painting silver across Mary-Beth's collarbones where her blouse had already loosened. He hovered above her, weight on his forearms, afraid to press too hard, afraid this moment might break if he breathed wrong.
"Still sure?" he asked again, voice rough with restraint.
She answered by pulling him closer, fingers threading through the damp hair at his nape. "I've never been surer of anything, Caleb. Just… go slow with me."
He nodded, throat working. "Always."
He kissed her like she was something holy, slow, reverent kisses along her jaw, the corner of her mouth, the fluttering pulse beneath her ear. Every time she sighed, he paused, checking her eyes, waiting for the smallest flinch that never came. Only trust. Only want.
His hands, calloused from reins and rifles, moved with a gentleness that made her heart ache.
He unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, lips following each new inch of skin revealed, as though memorizing her by touch and taste. When the fabric parted, he drew back just enough to look at her, eyes dark and stunned. "God, Mary-Beth… you're beautiful."
She flushed deeper, arms instinctively crossing her chest, but he caught her wrists gently and pressed kisses to the inside of each palm. "Don't hide from me, darlin'. Please."
The plea in his voice undid her. She let her arms fall away, and he rewarded her with a shaky exhale that sounded almost like prayer. His mouth found the slope of her breast above her chemise, warm and open, and she arched without meaning to, a soft, surprised sound escaping her lips.
He took his time, more time than she thought possible for a man who'd spent years taking what the world offered fast and hard. He peeled the chemise away like unwrapping something priceless. When her skin met the cool air and then the heat of his chest, she shivered, clinging to him.
Caleb's shirt joined hers on the floor. She ran wondering hands over the scars on his left shoulder, the lean muscle earned from his constant exercise and high high strength stats, the faint dusting of hair that narrowed beneath his belt. He let her explore, eyes half lidded, breath hitching whenever her fingertips traced something sensitive.
When his hand finally slid beneath the waistband of her skirt, he paused again, forehead pressed to hers.
"Tell me if it's too much." She answered by kissing him hard, pouring every unspoken yes into it.
He touched her like a man learning a new language tentative at first, then with growing wonder as she trembled and opened for him. Each soft gasp she gave seemed to unravel him further. He whispered her name like it hurt to hold it in, like it was the only word he knew anymore.
When her skirt and petticoats finally pooled on the floor, leaving only the thin cotton of her drawers, she felt suddenly, breathtakingly shy. Caleb sensed it instantly. He lay beside her instead of above, gathering her close so they were chest to chest, heart to hammering heart.
"We can stop right here," he murmured against her temple. "Holdin' you all night would be more than enough."
Mary-Beth turned in his arms, pressing her lips to the hollow of his throat. "I don't want to stop."
The last barriers fell away slowly, his trousers, her drawers, until there was nothing left but skin and candlelight and trembling honesty.
He kissed every new place he uncovered, mapping her with lips and careful fingers until she was clinging to his shoulders, whispering please in a voice she barely recognized.
When he finally settled between her thighs, he braced himself above her again, eyes locked on hers. "Look at me, sweetheart," he whispered. "Stay with me."
She nodded, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, not from fear, but from the overwhelming tenderness of it all.
The first press was slow, careful, almost unbearably gentle. She tensed instinctively, fingers digging into his back, and he froze. "Breathe, Mary-Beth. I've got you."
She did, focusing on the warmth of his skin, the low rumble of his voice, the way he kissed the tears that slipped free even though they were happy ones. When her body softened, he moved again inch by inch, watching her face for every flicker of discomfort until there was none left, only a deep, sweet ache that felt like coming home.
A soft cry escaped her when he was fully seated inside her, and he stilled again, peppering her face with kisses.
"You're doin' so good, darlin'. So perfect." She laughed breathlessly through the sting, the wonder, the impossible fullness of him. "I feel… I feel like I'm flyin'."
He groaned at that, burying his face in her neck, holding himself rigid until she rocked experimentally beneath him. Only then did he begin to move with slow, deliberate strokes that had her clutching him tighter, her breath hitching with every drag and return.
The rhythm built like a tide where it was gentle, then deeper, then gentle again whenever her eyes fluttered.
He whispered love against her skin, praise and devotion and her name over and over until the words blurred together. She answered in soft, broken sounds, legs wrapped around his hips, urging him closer, deeper, until the world narrowed to the slide of bodies and the creak of the bed and the candle burning low.
When the pleasure crested, it took her by surprise as a sudden, bright wave that had her crying out his name, clinging to him as she shattered.
He followed moments later, her name a ragged prayer against her lips as he spilled inside her, arms shaking with the effort of holding her through it.
After, he didn't let go. He eased to the side, still joined with her, pulling the worn quilt over their cooling bodies. She nestled into the crook of his shoulder, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.
"Was it… was it alright?" she whispered, suddenly shy again.
Caleb laughed softly, the sound warm and wrecked. He pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. "Mary-Beth Gaskill, you've gone and ruined me for anyone else. That was… that was everything."
She smiled against his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath her cheek, and for the first time in years the world felt wide open instead of closing in.
A long, warm while later, they lay together beneath the thin blanket, the candlelamp dimming into a soft glow.
Caleb held Mary-Beth close, his arm around her, thumb stroking the side of her arm.
Neither spoke at first.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because the silence was… full.
Comfortable.
Intimate.
After a while, Mary-Beth whispered, "You were gentle… and patient. Thank you."
Caleb kissed the top of her head. "I wanted your first time to be perfect. Or as perfect as this life allows."
She smiled softly. "It was."
Another quiet moment passed. Then Mary-Beth asked, voice hesitant but hopeful, "Do you think we'll get out of this life, Caleb? Someday?" He didn't want to lie. He didn't want to crush her hope either.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 7/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 4)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 3)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 3)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 2)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 4)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,655 dollars and 10 cents
Inventory: 104,669 dollars and 72 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 64 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, & 1 Ruby
Bank: -