Strictly Business [Closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-07-2017
Owen’s mouth tightened sympathetically at the corner when she admitted she wanted company. His company as it were. The arm around her also tightened and he nodded, “Alright.” The elevator doors were open and he escorted her into the lobby and out the main doors. Owen walked briskly, keeping her close against his side and away from curious looks. He led her through the parking lot and opened his car door for her. A perfect gentleman, he wait for her to situate herself in the passenger’s seat before he closed the door on her.
The drive home was largely uneventful and lacking in conversation. Owen tuned the radio to an innocuous pop station and let it play quietly to give her something to listen to as they drove. At one particularly lengthy red light, Owen’s hand left the clutch and met her knee which was covered by a stoft stocking. His thumb caressed back and forth over the soft fabric on her knee until the light changed and he needed to shift the car into gear.
At his home, Owen let Drusilla inside and directed her to his living room. “Have a seat,” he said, extending his hand towards the couch. “Let me get you some ice.”
He prepared a little ice pack using a Ziplock bag filled with ice and a slightly dampened kitchen towel around it to communicate the cold but take some of the bite away from the ice. A thought occurred to him and he turned back to retrieve a pie Drusilla had made for him the day prior. He’d eaten only one slice of it and the majority remained. He rested a fork on top of the plastic that covered the pie and tried his best to hide it behind his back as he rounded the corner to the living room.
Owen presented her first with the ice pack wordlessly, and then brandished the pie with a smile.
“I brought you a thing.”
He plopped down on the couch next to her and peeled back the plastic covering from the pie. He scraped a large helping of the French silk pie. She’d made his favorite. “I don’t know about you,” he began and then shoved the bite of pie in his mouth, “but I like to eat pie after a shitty day.” The rest of the sentence sounded muffled around the dessert in his mouth.
He swallowed the bite down and licked his lips, “It’s so fucking good.” He said and meant it exactly as phrased. Owen settled back against the couch cushions and propped his feet up on the coffee table. His arm moved around her shoulders and he encouraged her to come to him. The pie he had precariously balanced on his thigh. With his free hand, he kept it in place while she made herself comfortable against him.
When they were still, he portioned out a much more manageable bite of pie and offered it to her on the fork. The process was a bit awkward as one arm was occupied with holding her and the other hand to maneuver the fork to get a bit of pie balanced oddly on his leg, but he managed.
Owen was determined to be for her whatever she needed him to be. And he seemed to enjoy the role, despite the unpleasant circumstances.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-07-2017
Drusilla shuffled towards the couch and flopped down onto the plush cushions. She kicked off her shoes, tired of the stylish heels in the wake of that day’s events. She flexed her toes and sank back into the furniture, bringing her knees up and towards her chest. She accepted the ice pack from Owen and thanked him quietly. She pressed it against her lip, wincing slightly as the cold met her tender skin. He managed to get a small smile from her when he revealed the pie. One of her ears had popped up, but the other was still folded down. Her tail was still, following the line of her leg. His weight on the couch shifted her towards him, but she didn’t move to cuddle up against him until he offered.
Her other ear perked, hopeful that he would offer, as she watched him get settled and arrange the pie. It was more than an offer, it was nearly a demand, the way he pulled her against him. She snuggled against him, and rested her face against his collar, still holding the ice to her mouth. The fold of her knees had them pressed against his thigh, and her tail finally resumed a gentle pat against the couch.
She lifted her head to accept the proffered bite of pie, letting her hand and the ice fall into her lap. Drusilla lowered her face again, as if she were still hiding against him. “It is a pretty good pie,” she said with a small laugh, as if she hadn’t made herself. Attempting to make light conversation, preferring it over a potential awkward silence.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-07-2017
Owen wasn’t satisfied with her arrangement of herself. Once she’d accepted the bite he stuck the fork in the pie and moved the dessert to the side table within reach next to him. His freed hand was bold enough to cup the back of her top most knee, and he pulled her leg over his. Now with essentially half of her body pressed to his, he sunk back more comfortably against the couch pillows and let his hand rhythmically caress her the side of her leg.His fingers brushed along the side of her calf, up her knee, and just high enough to brush the bare skin of her thigh and down again. He liked the feeling of soft texture change beneath his fingers. Soft fibers of her stocking to the silky smoothness of her skin. His hand stopped it’s movements right at the top of her sock. His thumb brushed back and forth along her thigh.
“Why don't you walk me through what happened?” He suggested looking down at her from the corner of his eyes to where she all but hid from him at his collar and neck. The thumb and hand on her leg were still but the other had taken to gentle petting of her hair.
“It’s alright if you don’t, we can just eat pie.” A sad smile tugged at his lips and his hand left her leg against to parse out another bite of pie. It was once again difficult to get a hold of as the container wanted to scoot a little bit away from him.
Of the bite he claimed only half from the front of the fork, he offered her the other half if she wanted it.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-07-2017
She was compliant to the way he arranged her. She didn’t even lift her head, just allowed her legs to be moved until they crossed his and she was closer to him somehow. His hand against her leg was a comforting rhythm, but the contact reduced her hiding to concealing the blush on her face. Especially as his touch crept higher and rested just below the line of her dress, fingers making gentle contact with her skin. Drusilla sighed and lifted her face when he asked about the event. Her ears fell. She started worrying at her lip again, until he presented another bite of pie. Accepting it, she chewed thoughtfully before swallowing.
“I don’t really know,” she confessed, unintentionally leaning her head against his hand that still rested against her hair. She sighed again, green eyes skirting to the side. “I just went to the base to pick up your mail and talk to Major Forsyth, like I always do on Thursdays, but Agent Jehorem stopped me. He said that I looked ‘suspicious.' They took me into custody and they wouldn’t let me talk to anyone." Her voice pitched higher and she spoke quicker as she recalled the distressing moments. "They showed me paperwork that said my authentication had failed.” Her tail pinwheeled against her bottom. “I told them to call you and they wouldn’t. They just called me entitled; told me to stop lying and to stop dropping names. I think...I think they stopped me for being Verdian. Or that may have been part of it?” She closed in on herself again, ears dropping as her shoulder slumped and she dropped her face to his chest again.
"I...I didn't do anything. At least, I don't think I did."
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-08-2017
Owen noted the change in her voice, the sound of distress, as she related the story to him. His hand returned to it’s rhythmic petting of her hair. He listened with a sympathetic and concerned frown that pulled his brows low over grey eyes. Her face fell against his chest and he let his hand pass over the crown of her head between her ears. His hand ventured leftward until it found an ear. He let his fingers run over the downy furred ear to the tip. He took it between thumb and forefinger to feel the softness with a massaging touch.
He didn’t know whether it was over bold to touch her that way. But he would find out.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassured her, trying to catch her gaze with his.
It was impossible with the way they were situated so his hand fell down from her ear to lifted her jaw up towards his face with his fingers. He frowned again when her face was brought upwards. This time he inspected the bruising along her jaw. He briefly surveyed the damage and let his thumb brush lightly across the purpling area and over her split lip.
“Why did he do this to you?” He breathed the question and suddenly became aware of every breath they each took.
They were actually breathing in synchrony. Their faces so close together. He studied her lips and then searched her eyes trying to get a sense of what she was feeling.
It was inappropriate, it was unprofessional, but the urge to kiss her took him. It seemed, then, like the most obvious way to comfort her. His hand was already on her face, a few inches of distance to close and his mouth would be on hers. He didn’t see any reason not to kiss her then. His fingers may have climbed a little higher on her thigh, he may have leaned a little towards her with his lips parted as if he would kiss her. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore.
A car door slammed and he snapped out of it. He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and let his hand fall away from her face. Owen reached for the fork and more pie to stuff his face with dessert if he couldn’t seem to seal the deal with her.
He was back offering her another bite of pie as if they both hadn’t been acutely aware of the distinct possibility that had that car door not closed they likely would have been kissing. A stupid reason not to kiss. But there he was offering pie instead of his mouth.
He could be real stupid when it came to her.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-08-2017
It wasn’t until he touched her ears that Drusilla considered that their current position was very indecorous; too close, too intimate. A trust had grown between them over the months she had been in his employ, a reliance, a routine, but this felt like something entirely different. Her ear went still when he touched it, caressed it between his fingers. It was such a gentle touch, as if he were testing the feel of it. It felt good. She started to purr at some point; the continuous cadence of a rolling snare drum resonating from somewhere near the hollow of her throat. Her hand fell away from her ear and they pressed against her head in unison, as if she were embarrassed by the involuntary noise that continued even after he prompted her to look at him. She stared up at him, purring all the while as he inspected her face. The colorful skin around her mouth and chin, the angry red line that crossed vertically on her bottom lip. Lips parted when he touched the gash there, mostly from surprise but also the smallest amount of pain. She looked away from him, unable to answer his question and suddenly embarrassed about the state she was in. She always tried to look so put-together when she saw him, and now here she was, reduced to a sniveling, clinging mess.
His hand moved higher, fingertips slipping beneath the hem of her dress, and her eyes snapped back to his face. He was going to kiss her, and she didn’t have to think about whether she wanted him to kiss her because the answer was an obvious and resounding yes. She tilted her head the slightest bit against his hand as if giving him permission.
But then there was that car door, and the moment was over. He pulled away from her, and she was left blinking with her ears swiveled towards the approaching footsteps, left to act as if nothing had happened.
The door opened without a knock, but neither of them really seemed to care. Owen busied himself with the pie and Drusilla leaned forward to the bite she was offered, as Sophia rounded the corner and stood in the entryway that lead to the foyer. Sophia’s brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail behind her head and she wore a loose-fitting tank top with a sports bra peaking out underneath and Lycra leggings that fit like a second skin. Her tennis shoes looked more like a style choice than they actually suggested she had been working out. She held a grouping of files in one hand and had a large overnight back over her shoulder.
The expression on her face was difficult to read, as she stared down at her boyfriend and his assistant getting cozy on the couch, but there were some clear indications of rage. “This looks comfortable,” she said, icily, letting the bag slide from her shoulder and drop to the floor. Drusilla’s face was turned away from her, so she couldn’t assess the damage that had been done that day, she could only see the way her ears pinned backwards. Even if she could see the injuries, it was unlikely they would change Sophia’s opinion.
Drusilla pulled her legs off of Owen, and turned on the couch so they were hanging over the edge and she was sitting normally. The other woman didn’t scramble to explain herself, and Sophia scoffed, turning her narrowed gaze on Owen. “Don’t stop on my account.” She sounded absolutely venomous. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-08-2017
Owen hadn’t yet recovered himself from the sound of her purring and that look on her face that had asked that he kiss her. They’d been so close. And that rolling purr. A sort of metered buzzing. It had vibrated from somewhere in the back of her throat. Because of their nearness, he could feel it quivering in his chest a little bit. An intoxicating sensation. The sound aroused him. A number of things to do with a woman who purred were immediately imagined by him. And there was also his own sort of shock that he’d petted her.
He petted Drusilla - Julianna - and she let him and she purred. At. Him. For him? It seemed involuntary and she seemed bashful about it. And he liked that even more. That he could do that to her.
He couldn’t function.
Sophia had entered the room and was saying something but there this bit of whipped cream at the edge of Drusilla’s lip. With his index finger, Owen wiped it off and stuck his finger in his mouth to clean it of the white treat. He wished he could have just licked it from her mouth.
He couldn’t function.
But Drusilla was pulling away from him and he realized that his actual girlfriend was glaring at him, nearly spitting fire, and wearing some loud and very tight leggings that had her shapely legs on display. He was immediately annoyed.
Owen’s face was a neutral and bored looking mask. Obviously, he was disinterested in playing the jealous girlfriend game. He fed himself another bite of pie before he even acknowledged Sophia’s presence. And he acknowledged her by putting his hands back on Drusilla, turning her face to show off the bruising.
“Agent Jehorem detained and assaulted her today.” He said as if to explain their closeness. “So we decided to eat some pie since there’s nothing else to be done about it right now.” He then showed her his bruised knuckles. He flexed his hand against the tightness that pulled across the the knuckles. “I broke his nose, though. Maybe, probably, his orbital bone too.”
Not exactly comforting for a girlfriend to see her boyfriend showing off the injured knuckles he got from defending another woman. But that didn’t occur to Owen, or he didn’t care.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-08-2017
The way he ignored her, pushed Sophia into an incandescent rage. Wiping something from the corner of Drusilla's mouth like she wasn't even standing there.Drusilla’s face was flushed from the whipped cream incident and she was avoiding eye contact with both Sophia and Owen. Poised on the edge of the couch with her knees pressed together, and her hands resting on top of them. Her spine was straight and her ears were flat. When he reached for her face to make an example she tried to resist; tried to pull her chin away from him, suddenly uncomfortable with the contact. With her face pushed in that direction, it was difficult to avoid Sophia’s withering gaze. They locked eyes, and Sophia crossed her arms over her chest with one hip jutting to the side. The perfect picture of a woman pissed off as she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, that makes perfect sense.” Sophia looked away from Drusilla’s face, to the injured hand that Owen was showing off. “When I have an associate that gets hurt I totally take them back to my house and feed them pie.” She was one-hundred percent sarcasm at this point. Clearly, without sympathy for either of them. “I totally beat up warrant officers for detaining people. Real fucking nice Owen, this is exactly what I wanted to walk into today. You just can't keep your hands off your god damn assistant.”
With her face freed, Drusilla resumed staring at the coffee table in front of the couch. Owen’s boots were still propped up on it. The water bottle she’d been holding earlier was the only other thing resting on it. Her tail swayed behind her back, as she was trapped by the other two people in the room arguing over her head.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-08-2017
Suffice it to say Owen’s hands were off of Drusilla at the moment. Once he’d shown off her injuries to the unsympathetic Sophia, he kept his hands to himself after that. “I guess if you don’t want to be surprised by anything, you should try knocking on the fucking door. What a concept.” He muttered this pointless counter-argument before his face went back to that long-suffering expression of boredom.
He remained lounging on his couch like a king and took the pie into his lap. Stabbing at it lazily with the fork, he rolled his eyes, “Not to be pedantic. But you realize, though, that the difference is,” he fed himself that scoop of pie with as much vitriolic sarcasm as she gave him, “Dru here isn’t a combatant.” That was the first time he’d ever referred to her in nickname and he did it expressly to piss off Sophia more. “So, her getting punched in the face by a two-hundred and fifty pound man is kind of out of the ordinary for her. And, yeah, I broke his fucking nose. Because he needs to learn we don’t hit tiny women in sweater dresses.”
He paused and then added half-heartedly, "I would have done it for you." It was unclear if he really meant that.
He threw the fork down into the pie with little regard for where it landed. It ended up coated in chocolate filling and whipped cream. He was done with it. Owen’s feet fell to the floor with a thud and he all but tossed the pie on the table.
He squinted his eyes and stared up at the ceiling before running his hand through his hair. “Here’s a thought.” He made a smacking noise with his lips and lifted his index finger. Owen was getting really sassy. “How about we just skip this whole argument that follows your paranoid baseless accusations? Wouldn’t that be nice for a change, Sophia? Haven’t we been through it enough times?”
He pushed himself up from the couch and approached her until he was standing before her. Owen crossed his arms over his chest and looked stubborn and immovable. “Yes? No?” He asked condescendingly.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-10-2017
Sophia cocked her head. It was a sassy gesture that tossed her ponytail to one said and seemed to ask are you kidding me? Her entire posture managed to convey that, as if she practiced lofty looks of contempt and disappointment. She didn’t respond to his comment about knocking. Her throaty and disgusted scoff was, in her mind, enough to advertise her thoughts on the matter. Owen’s use of the nickname had the desired results, her arms uncrossed to settle on her hips. She glared at both of them. She discontinued to garner any sympathy for Drusilla’s face. Sophia even dared to believe that the other woman had earned it somehow. She seemed to make a habit of pissing people off. She couldn’t have been the only one Miss Haven and her perfect hair and expensive shoes annoyed the shit out of. Personally, Sophia wouldn’t mind slapping a small cat woman herself. “Well, it sounds like a very exciting day.”
Drusilla’s tail was tapping a nervous rhythm on the couch. Still sitting next to Owen, she kept her eyes on hands that were still resting against her knees. She could feel Owen’s agitation with Sophia growing. They did this a lot. Bicker back and forth. Not always about her, but mostly. She wondered what kept them together, but then she stopped wondering when Sophia did an annoyed half turn with her hands thrown out. Those pants did wonders for her legs. Her ears twitched when he tossed the fork down. There was a silence. Drusilla took the time to slip back into her shoes as Owen ran his hand through his hair, which was a decent sign that this altercation was about to get worse.
She pulled the pie off the table and scooted past Owen’s legs to disappear, wordlessly, through the opposite entry. Sophia was still blocking the other. She could hear Owen scolding his girlfriend.
Sophia held her ground as Owen complained and approached her. He wasn’t able to intimidate her as easily as he would have like. She crossed her arms again, mimicking his posture even though she was forced to look up at him. “Baseless?” she repeated. “Really? Did I just imagine walking in on you cuddling your assistant on the couch? Another woman practically in your lap as your feed her pie?” Sophia was upset, hurt, concerned about Owen’s feelings for her. If any. But she didn’t know how to be anything, but furious. “Did I imagine the whipped cream thing? What would have happened if I hadn’t walked in!”
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-10-2017
Owen was acutely aware of Drusilla’s escape from the room, but chose to act as if he didn’t notice for Sophia’s benefit. He really wasn’t interested in having the argument he was destined to have. Yet, again.
Owen gestured in frustration with his hands, “What do you mean 'what would have' -” he stopped asking the question, letting his hands slap down against his thighs.
It was pointless.
He folded his arms slowly and ominously over his chest. “Well obviously I would have fucked the shit out of her.”
Finally the truth came out, but he said it in such a way as if to suggest that the idea was ridiculous. But he wasn’t finished.
“But you came in and ruined those plans. So, I guess I’ll just have to fuck you instead.” He shrugged as if the idea was barely palatable to him.
“What else am I to do now? You made me scare her away! And you’re wearing those stupid fucking leggings.”
He took a step forward, reaching for her hips with his hands. His fingers met toned flesh and he dug in dragging the woman to him whether she wanted to come or not. His grip and forceful pull indicated she would regardless. “You know how you look in these tight -” his fingers slid back to grab a handful of her ass, “pants.”
This was Owen making amends.
With one handful of ass, the other secured her ponytail, jerking her head back so he could press a hard, aggressive kiss on her mouth. The gesture was ended with a loud smack of the flat of his hand on her bottom and Owen pulled away from the kiss again to see if he’d satisfied her. He still had a hold of her pony tail, forcing her to look up at him. He arched an eyebrow at her and grinned.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-11-2017
Sophia openly gaped at Owen when he all but admitted he would have fucked Drusilla. He was saying it to get a rise out of her, and even though she knew that it worked. In the back of her mind, she knew it was a little bit true. She knew that he had it bad for his assistant even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, including himself. “You’re such a fucking asshole,” she complained, even as he reached for her. She glared as he gripped her hips, and tried to stand her ground as he yanked her closer. “You think you’re so fucking funny,” she continued, as his insistent tugging pulled her tight against him. Sophia was glaring and smothering her grin by the time he grabbed her ass. She was easily placated. Any hint of attraction and she forgot all about Drusilla in the kitchen and the scene she’d walked in on. “I do know how I look,” she replied, sounding sultry and appealing with her head titled back. She laughed against his mouth, a victorious chuckle that dissolved into appreciative moans as he kissed her. She jerked away from his mouth and gasped when he slapped her ass. “Fine,” she acquiesced as he looked down at her with that smug expression. “But you’re still a fucking asshole.”
She kissed him again, a quick peck, before she pulled away from him to pick her bag up off the floor. Turning her back on him, she disappeared out of the living room and up the stairs.
Drusilla busied herself in the kitchen as the couple argued. Raised voices and strange accusations had her tail fluffed up and her ears pressed against her head. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like the aggression or the implication that she and Owen would have been having sex were it not for Sophia’s interruptions. Drusilla didn’t like being used as a pawn to annoy Sophia.
Her ears twitched to the sound of that resounding smack that echoed from the living room. It was an obvious sort of noise, and Drusilla slipped into the booth at the breakfast nook. She slid all the way in, pushing herself as closely against the wall as she could. She pushed her pens and her planners towards the middle as if creating a barrier between herself and whatever was going on between Owen and Sophia. She grabbed one planner and a pen and pretended to look busy.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-12-2017
Fine. The way she caved happened just the way he’d calculated in his mind.
He still had a victorious grin on his face even as she insulted him, “Yeah what else is new.” He countered sarcastically to her fucking asshole insult. Their lips met again but his didn’t move; he accepted her peck with a bland expression on his face and released her when she indicated she wanted to move away from him.
The argument was over and she was going to make herself comfortable.
He had to deal with a frightened cat.
And a frightened cat is what he found, hunkered down in his breakfast nook doodling in her planner book she was always consulting.
He came to a shuffling stop in front of the nook and checked his watch. “Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off, Dru?” The suggestion was made softly and the use of her nickname this time was for the purpose of sounding affectionate. How quickly he could alter himself when it came to her.
“I’m sorry about that.” He added his eyes rolling to the window that gazed out on the backyard. “You know how she is. So.” An awkward half-cough-sigh sounded from the back of his throat. He wanted to be excused by Drusilla for his behavior and what he had said about her.
“I, uh, if you want to take some time off, tomorrow, next week, or for however long you need, feel free. If you feel like all this is too much for you, we can look at a severance package.” He said the latter portion half-heartedly while drawing little circles with his index finger on the table. The idea of losing her hurt him. The idea that he would let her walk free when he didn't have his answers yet confused him.
He didn’t know what to do with his thoughts and feelings anymore. He just wanted to escape upstairs and fuck Sophia mindlessly. It wasn’t that he wanted Sophia specifically. He knew it could easily be anyone that could fulfill his need to float away from himself for a while. A warm body would do.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 05-12-2017
The pen ceased its movements and her ears swiveled towards Owen as he stopped in front of the nook. Furred appendages fell to either side of her head as he began to speak; she didn’t look at him, but she was clearly registering what he was saying. She started doodling again, but it was very obvious that the yelling had rattled her. Today, had just been a bad day for Drusilla overall. Her jaw still ached, exacerbated by the way she clenched her teeth when she was anxious. When he suggested she take time off, she sat up straight, gently tapping the bottom of her pen on the page. Ears at attention, she looked over and up at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she replied, closing the planner and working on pushing all of her pens and et cetera back against the wall. She intentionally skipped over his previous statements. Drusilla wanted him to know that he wasn’t off the hook about the things he had said regarding her to Sophia, but she didn’t want to actually acknowledge what he had said about her. Self-consciously she touched the gash on her lip, before scooting out of the booth to stand. She just barely brushed against him as he fiddled with a spot on the table.
She smoothed her sweater down over her legs and took a moment to adjust her slipping socks. It’s not something she would have normally done in his presence, but she had given up on looking perfect, given the events of the day. She would try again tomorrow. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she repeated, tail swaying behind her knees. “I’ll...uh...I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just, uh, drown in ice cream and documentaries for the rest of the day.” She forced a laugh, but it was weak. She rubbed her arm self-consciously.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 05-12-2017
His heart lifted when she said not once, but twice, that she would continue working for him. The feeling was short-lived.Her nonverbal cues were enough to open a pit of guilt in Owen’s stomach. This was a feeling he should have experienced when his girlfriend walked in on the two of them cuddling on the couch together. But it was the fall of Drusilla’s ears and the careful adjustments she made to her clothes, and the way she rubbed at her arm as if to comfort herself. Those were the things that drew sympathy out of him.
He knew he’d been part of the day's events that had worn her down when he wanted to be the opposite.
Owen shifted guiltily on his feet, “Look, uh…” he trailed off not sure how to start. He was staring off over the top of her head at something.
He found his bravery and looked her in the eye. “I need to clear this up before you leave today. I - ” He tapped into mental reserves, words he’d learned during officer training. “As an officer and your direct superior, and, well I guess just as a man in general, it’s really my responsibility to ensure that my behavior around you isn’t - inappropriate, or doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I think I failed today. Especially in the way I used you as a weapon to put Sophia in her place. I’m sorry. I also probably should not have put my hands on you in that way. I put you in a position of having to accept physical contact from your superior that you might not have desired otherwise.”
He was giving her the opportunity to excuse herself from the closeness they’d shared over pie. He almost wanted her to. To tell him she’d let him touch her because she was intimidated by him. If he could get that from her, then he might be able to shut away whatever he was beginning to feel for her. Care. An inappropriate need to protect her. Sexual attraction. All of the above and more.