Rafael glanced at Marco, his heart pounding in response to the warmth of Marco's hand resting on his.
The unmistakable desire in Marco's eyes sent a shiver down his spine, testing the fragile barrier of self-control he had so carefully constructed. His body, already reacting to Marco's touch, began to betray the professional distance he was determined to maintain.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, desperately willing himself to regain control. When he opened them again, the rising heat within him was tamped down, but it was a tenuous victory. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, determined to avoid Marco's piercing stare.
"No," Rafael said firmly, though his voice wavered ever so slightly, betraying the turmoil inside.
He gently pulled his hand free from Marco's grip and made his way to where his massage kit sat near the door. The air between them was thick with tension, and Rafael felt it keenly, pressing in on him from all sides.
