Riley uses everything in him not to close the gap between them. Every muscle inside him begs to move, to lean over, to kiss Henry with the hunger that Henry's words have ignited in him.
The need runs through his veins violently and consuming. He has to fight himself not to whisper a plea for Henry to touch him, to pull him impossibly close, to make him feel that burning all over again.
Instead, he forces words out. His voice is not steady, but it's firm enough.
"It doesn't matter if I want it too or not," Riley says. "What matters right now… to me… is to know if you want it just because your body is telling you that you want it, or because…" His voice falters.
