"And where is that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You are aware of my interest, Rowan. You know how far I'm willing to go, though we have yet to establish a limit to what I'll do for you," I brought her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles.
"This was just you showing your interest, hm?" she mused.
"The most effective way for me to show you, yes." I grinned, unable to help myself.
She started to move, intending to climb off me. The loss of contact was an immediate, physical ache. I tightened my grip on her hips for a fraction of a second, an instinctive protest, before forcing myself to let go.
She slid off my lap, her legs wobbling slightly as her bare feet hit the Persian rug. She grabbed her panties from the floor, clutching them in one hand while she used the other to try and pull the edges of her shirt together. It was a futile gesture of modesty after what we’d just done, but it was endearingly human.
I adjusted my own clothing, re-fastening my trousers with a dignity I didn't entirely feel. My shirt was wrinkled, likely missing a button, and smelled entirely of her. I had no intention of changing it.
Rowan leaned against the desk, watching me. Her gaze was soft, contemplative.
"Mateo grounded me," she said quietly, echoing my earlier observation. "He stopped the shaking."
"I know."
"But you..." She paused, searching for the word, tilting her head as she analyzed the data of her own body. "You didn't stop the shaking. You just gave it a different frequency."
I stood up and walked over to her. I removed my glasses from the desk where they had been knocked askew and slid them back onto my face. The world sharpened back into distinct edges and lines.
"Stillness is useful for survival," I said, reaching out to fix the collar of her shirt. "But vibration is necessary for movement. If you're going to tear down an industry, Rowan, you can't be still."
I smoothed the fabric over her shoulder, letting my hand linger on the side of her neck.
"I don't need to fix you," I told her, my voice low and serious. "You aren't broken. You're just running a high-energy program on hardware that wasn't built for it. I intend to upgrade the hardware."
She looked at me, her eyes shining. She grabbed my lapels and pulled me down for a short, searing kiss.
"Thank you," she whispered against my mouth.
"For the orgasms?"
"For the upgrade."
She stepped back, turning to the door. "I think we should rewrite clause six, by the way."
"Go to bed, Rowan," I said. "Clause six will be there in the morning."
She hesitated, clutching the drafted protocol to her chest like a teddy bear.
"Stephen?"
"Yes?"
"We might need to revisit that topic of tonight's, uh, discussion again. I feel the sample size was... insufficient," she said, a wicked glint returning to her eyes as she backed toward the door.
My blood warmed again instantly.
"I'll be ready whenever you wish to continue the discussion," I promised.
She grinned, turned, and walked out of the study. She walked with a sway I hadn't seen before, loose-limbed and alive.
I stood alone in the quiet room, listening to her footsteps fade down the hall. I looked at the leather chair, at the slight indentation we had left.
Juno was right. We were in trouble.
