Rodeo admired every one of Charlie's scars, seeing each one as a testament to her strength, a part of her story. There wasn't a single thing about her that he didn't find absolutely beautiful, from the strong lines of her face and her full lips to the scars lining her skin and the smooth planes of her compact body. And despite all that fitness and strength, she still had curves in all the right places-- Rodeo slid his hands under her back and downwards, shamelessly groping her ass, grinning against the skin of her throat as he admired the feel of it under his hands.
"Mmm... ain't as nice as what you got," Rodeo hummed, but reluctantly he pulled his hands off of Charlie and sat up enough to tug his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. He considered dropping his hands to his belt and working that off too, but he didn't want to be presumptuous. For once, he actually cared about whether he was rushing things or not, and he wasn't sure how far Charlie was willing to take this. Instead he put his hands back on her skin, bringing his lips back to her collarbone to continue on his path, kissing down her chest. He brought one hand up to cup her breast, sliding his thumb across the fabric as he kissed along the skin just outside of her bra, only more turned on by the fullness he felt against his palm. His hips were between her legs because of how they had fallen when he rolled them over and he couldn't resist grinding down against her faintly, body craving the friction.