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"I think I can get it down to sixty seconds."
"Fast isn't what most women are looking for. This isn't about quick fixes. It's about the entire experience." Her voice was sharp, edged with the frustration of climax without context.
Vigo adjusted his glasses, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. "The data shows?—"
"Data shmata. You can't quantify pleasure with graphs and charts."
"Actually, you can," he countered, his hands gesturing to the stacks of research papers littering the desk. "The average orgasm lasts?—"
"That's exactly the problem. You're so hung up on averages that you forget we're dealing with people, not robots."
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the tension crackled between them like static before a storm. She'd been right to be the one to test this prototype.
"And that's not the only thing," she went on. "It's loud."
"That was a calculated compromise. I figured the buzz of the motors added to the clitoral stimulation. Direct stimulation yields prompt results."
"Prompt? Is that what we're calling it now?" Tanya scoffed, her brown eyes narrowing as she flipped the device in her palm, considering the cold, impersonal silicone. "There's more to a great vibrator than racing to the finish line."
"Such as?"
"Texture, warmth, contours..." Tanya trailed off, her mind weaving images of desire that were less mechanical, more human. She gripped the prototype tighter, feeling its potential and its shortcomings all at once.
"Those are variables. Hard to quantify."
"Exactly. Sex isn't a math problem to solve, Ricci. It's an experience. A journey."
"Journey implies detours. Inefficiencies."
"Life is full of detours." Tanya set the vibrator down on the side table. "Detours are where the fun lies."
She didn't add thesupposedly.But she saw the word in his questioning gaze.
Vigo's silence was a coiled spring, tension winding tight between them. He stepped forward, invading her space, his scent—a mix of sandalwood and something indefinably masculine—making her senses riot.
"Fun isn't quantifiable," he finally said, voice low.
"Neither is satisfaction," Tanya countered, her breath hitching as she felt the heat radiating from him. The air crackled with their discord, an electric current that threatened to spark into something uncontrollable.
"Maybe not," Vigo conceded, his gaze never leaving hers, "but it's measurable. And that's what I do. I measure. I perfect."
Damn, that was hot. But she shouldn't be thinking hot thoughts about one of her employees. And a nerd at that.
"I barely had any time to enjoy it. Now the sensations are already fading."
"Interesting," he murmured, jotting down notes, the scientist in him surfacing unbidden. "So you're saying the intensity should be... modulated?"
"Modulated, escalated, hell, even narrated. It's about the ride, Ricci. Not just the destination."
Vigo regarded her, the spark of a challenge igniting in his eyes. "I see. Duration and escalation, not just raw power."
"Exactly," she said, finding her footing and smoothing down her skirt. "Less shock and awe, more... seduction."
"Understood." His tone suggested the gears were turning, recalibrating his approach to the mechanics of pleasure.
"Good." Tanya met his gaze with a mixture of satisfaction and something else—a flicker of excitement for what this clash of minds might yield. "Because I'm not settling for anything less than revolutionary."
"Then that's what I'll give you."
