It was more warmth than Raylan had been able to enjoy in months, Winona or not, and he pushed his hand up under Malcolm's shirt with another helpless little throaty noise as he pushed his weight over on top of him. His now free hand slid up Malcolm's arm to his wrist, tuggin' the belt loose and free so Malcolm could have a free hand of his own.

He still didn't know what he was doing, but instinct got him a long way.