"It's hard to turn down a pretty face when she's after your cock." Ocean eyes were pinned on her briefly, his thick shoulder barely shrugged. For him there were no boundaries. It wasn't his problem if someone went outside of their obligations. And while he wouldn't put this up as his defense, because he knew how it sounded despite it being true, Mason hadn't known at the time she'd been married to the man he'd done business with. The ruffian fucked for the sake of fucking, a means to an end — to get his needs met. It was incredibly rare he entertained a woman further than that. Distractions weren't what he needed in his life. It was already too complicated and adding a woman into the mix would make it ten fold. Oddly, a sense of amusement felt strange as it took hold of him. His chin jutted for her to go ahead and have a look, make her best guess. There were certainly plenty for her to choose from. They were at a stop light when she'd pulled up his shirt and guessed the scar on his hip to be the one, and his eyes were on her the whole time. "Go fish." The arm's dealer's voice rasped so close to her remembering vividly where her mouth had been just hours before. "Travel higher." There were a couple nasty scars, one on his ribcage and the other near his sternum. "You'd be surprised how many of you are hard headed." Most didn't learn the lesson, tried for more, and found trouble. Not that Mason would mind seeing her again. She was standing far out from the crowd thus far. A gun was the easiest guess on why she'd come to him, he was curious on why she went the whole night and morning without ever getting to it however. "What kind are you looking for? You wanting to get up close and personal, cause mexium damage — what is it you want?" It made no difference to him what she was using it for or whom, as long as it wasn't himself or the only person he cared about in the world. A chuckle then bubbled up his throat and he shook his head. "Who're you killing? Why isn't someone like you hiring someone else to do the job?"