His eyes darkened in response to the nip, and his nails scraped lightly over the curve of Damon's hip. "I'd kill for a bed," he murmured, with dry and teasing humor, but wriggled a little from between Damon and the counter. "But I'm not going to complain."

If Damon was sure, he was sure. Sort of. Mostly. He'd be more sure after this worked. He was sure as hell trusting Damon and wanting, though.