“Nah. Gonna be intense enough without anything else. Let’s work up to it for next time.”

Rowan’s heart stutters at Mal already anticipating a next time when they haven’t even gotten started yet.

They stand at the foot of the bed, staring at one another for a beat. Then another. Then another. It’s awkward until Mal laughs, shoving Rowan gently in the chest with his palm.

“C’mon, tough guy. Show me what you got.”

Rowan laughs in response, the tension instantly dissolved between them.

Normally, he’d order Mal to strip off his clothes right now, like he’s done a dozen times before. Call him selfish, but he wants to undress Mal himself tonight. Let himself live in the fantasy that this is spontaneous and has more meaning than a preplanned BDSM scene.

He feels his spine straighten as he looms over Mal, who’s looking up at him through long, dark lashes, lips parted. Rowan cups the back of Mal’s neck, tugging his body toward him in one firm motion, chests pressed together.

Mal lets out a tiny whimper, and Rowan can feel the start of the hardness in his lap.

Rowan covers one hip with his free hand, stroking up under his shirt to the side of Mal’s ribs. He’s hot to the touch, burning Rowan’s fingertips as he trails across bare skin. He releases his grip on the back of Mal’s neck, Mal’s breath leaving him in a whoosh as Rowan strips off Mal’s T-shirt, yanking it over his head. He allows himself time to take in his tattoos, the flowers and pistols spread across his chest and shoulders, the smattering of smaller tattoos gracing his arms and chest, the hint of vines growing on either side of his hips from under his sweats. The LISA tattoo on the side of his ribs.

Tucking his thumbs into either side of Mal’s sweats, Rowan slides them down, letting them pool onto the floor and coaxing Mal to step out of them. He leaves his briefs on for now, teasing the inside of his thighs with light strokes as Mal’s head dips forward to his chest and his breathing grows ragged.

“Quit teasin’ me,” Mal tells him.

Rowan grabs either side of his face, pinching his cheeks between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gonna tease you all I want.”

To prove his point, Rowan cups Mal’s cock, hard enough to get the other man to jerk his hips forward at the contact, but too light to provide any real relief.

Mal moans softly but presses on when Rowan pulls his hand away. “Brought you here for a reason.”

“Uh-huh. And we’re gonna get to that when I say we are.”

Rowan lets his hands travel back up and ghost over Mal’s neck, the corded muscle taut under his palms. He feels his own cock stir in his jeans.

“Words are gonna be tricky tonight,” Rowan says casually, though they feel heavy in his mouth. “You’ll make sure to tap out if you need to, yeah?”