The whole interaction was rather intoxicating. The steady music and thrum of the other party attendees setting a constant, if not a bit loud, setting, cool drinks beading water against warm skin (her own at least), and a set of eyes that might have been jewels plucked from some treasure hole. Pair all of that with words laden with more than a little innuendo and the brush of skin on skin and it quickly turned what started as casual conversation into a heady concoction. Perhaps it's the fact that she has been working long and late hours for the last few weeks, or that a part of her actually misses the less than legal work she did before this, a thrill that working at a bar just didn't provide; whatever the reason she plays into the dangerous game more willingly than she might have otherwise. The corners of her pink glossed lips twitch up in a simper at his response, composing herself after being a little taken aback by his supposedly innocent, but antiquated, gesture.
Despite being an archaic and rather obtuse undergarment from centuries past she was not at a loss that a corset accentuated certain assets in a way today's clothing simply couldn't compare. The material was a deep crimson color that conformed to her body as if made for it, the top tipped with black lace where it rose and dipped with her breasts and laced up with a silken black ribbon which was tied in a bow. It was a piece she was actually rather proud of, having procured it some time ago and made a few changes of her own to make it an even more unique piece. The billowing top she wore underneath cut off at her shoulders and took nothing away from the corsets design and form, rather contrasting it's tightness in a tantalizing play. It was hard to miss the way his eyes stayed fixed on her hands as they fidgeted with the fabric, not even as one silken word answers her veiled question about his experiences with the garment. Interested to have him so fixated she slowly trails her fingers from the edge of the corset where they had been adjusting the taunt fabric across her navel and up.
Only when her long, dexterous fingers were close to where red fabric met black lace did she stop, stepping toward him if only to see how he would react, she liked to test people. Reaching up she deftly smoothes the silken material around his throat, surprised by the stone cold feel of him beneath in sharp contrast to her own perhaps overly warm skin. Lot of people had cold hands and so she had thought little of it before, but his entire body might well have been made from ice. She lets her hands linger longer than necessary, silently enjoying the contrasting feel as her big hazel eyes turn toward him, catching the lights hanging above the bar before speaking again.
If she is disappointed that all her comment garners is the raising of one singular eyebrow she doesn't show it, rather letting out a breathy chuckle at his response. It was a different feeling to find someone who could not only calmly take her flirting in stride but also respond so deftly, it was a bit exhilarating, and in that moment she realized just how dangerous it all might be. She loves playing with fire, walking the thinnest line between a good time and true danger, but it was feline instinct that always told her when she was close to possibly getting burned. The tension between them is palpable as they stand so close surrounded by a sea of people by for all intents and purposes alone. If they continued on this path she had no doubt of where they would end up, and while she didn't doubt that she would enjoy it she wasn't dealing with her regular customer.
He was no drunken mark she found in a local bar, one she could follow home, take her own form of payment, and leave dazed and confused the next morning. No, he was literally an entirely different breed all together, and while Carolina didn't have too many dealings with the night walkers she knew enough that she might tread with a little more caution.