Rocking against him, he was forgetting he'd told himself that. He wanted to strip the man down and explore him, break him down until he was begging.

Which was what slowed him down, stopped him. He couldn't have that in a bathroom. Not here.

He slid a hand between them, stroking his finger over the bulge in Eames' trousers.

"We have fresh drinks at the table," he murmured, smiling.