It wasn't that Len was unwilling. He was definitely willing. He ached for it, actually, and only the fact that he wanted it so badly made him terrified to reach for it. Damn, he should've gotten laid before coming here. Or something. How had this gotten so out of hand so quickly?

He looked at that hand on his knee. Studied it. "I'm a thief," he said. "A really good thief. You want something stolen?"

He swallowed, hard. "Or do you want to fuck me?" He'd been going for sarcasm with that one, and tried to tell himself that he his voice didn't go up hopefully at the end of that question. He failed miserably. Shit.