Page 38 of Rhythm and Rapture

My hands move to her waist, fingers spanning the narrow width. I can feel her trembling—not from cold or fear, but from pure sensory overload. Every nerve ending is firing, sending signals her brilliant mind can't quite process fast enough.

"I need..." she starts, then stops, frustration flickering across her features.

I understand. How do you articulate a need you've never experienced? How does someone who deals in formulas and facts express something as ephemeral as desire?

"We know," Roman says, moving closer with that predatory grace of his.

When Felix movestoward me with that deliberate precision I've come to associate with his personality, I realize there's nothing familiar or controlled about this situation anymore. Where Roman was intense and Ash was playful, Felix is something else entirely—calculating in a way that makes me feel like prey.

His hands reach for the tablet first, and I watch helplessly as he sets aside my last connection to scientific objectivity. The gesture is gentle but firm, like he's removing a security blanket I no longer need.

"I think we have enough data," he says quietly, and his voice carries a heat I've never heard before. Professional Felix, careful Felix, is looking at me like he wants to dismantle me piece by piece and catalog every response. "Time for the hands-on portion of the experiment."

My breath catches as his hands move to the buttons of my lab coat. Each movement is calculated, deliberate, taking twice as long as necessary. He's making me wait, making me anticipate, and somehow that's even more intense than Roman's direct approach or Ash's playful chaos.

"You're studying me," I observe, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The same way you study chemical reactions," he confirms, undoing the first button with careful precision. "Every variable matters. The speed of approach, the pressure of touch, the timing between stimuli."

Another button comes undone, and I can feel cool air against my heated skin. "Your breathing pattern has changed three times since I started this. Your pupils dilate every time my fingers brush the fabric. You're already responding and I haven't even touched skin yet."

"Felix..." His name comes out as half plea, half warning.

"Is this what you want, Sabina?"

In the back of my mind, I know it will be edited out of the final video but the use of my real name instead of my Hidden Chemist persona breaks something fundamental inside me. The mask—literal and metaphorical—that I've been hiding behind crumbles, leaving just me. Not the confident performer who educates while she entertains. Not the brilliant scientist who can explain desire on a molecular level. Just Sabina who's never been touched like this, never felt wanted like this, never experienced anything beyond theory and imagination.

"Yes," I breathe, surprised by how certain I sound despite the chaos in my mind. "Please."

The final button comes undone, and Felix pushes the lab coat off my shoulders with the same careful precision he's applied to everything else. It pools at my feet, leaving me in the red lingerie that suddenly feels like both too much and not enough coverage.

"Beautiful," Roman says softly from his position, and I can feel all three sets of eyes on me.

"Exquisite," Felix corrects, his hands hovering just above my shoulders, not quite touching. "The way your skin flushes, the micro-tremors in your muscles, the dilation of surface capillaries..."

"You're analyzing me while seducing me," I accuse, but there's no heat in it.

"Is it working?" he asks, and finally, finally his hands make contact with my skin.

The touch is so light it's barely there, just fingertips tracing the curve of my shoulders, but after all the anticipation it feels like being struck by lightning. I gasp, my back arching involuntarily, and I hear Ash chuckle softly.

"I think that's a yes," Ash observes.

Felix's hands trail down my arms with scientific precision, mapping every response. When he reaches my wrists, he pauses, thumbs finding my pulse points.

"One hundred thirty-two beats per minute," he reports, and I realize he's counting without equipment. "Radial pulse strong and rapid. Classic arousal response."

"I could have told you that," I manage, trying for sarcasm but achieving something closer to desperate.

"But experiencing it is different from knowing it," Felix says, echoing my earlier realization. "Isn't that what this experiment is about? The gap between theoretical knowledge and practical application?"

His hands move to my waist, and every point of contact creates its own reaction—heat radiating outward, nerve endings firing in patterns I've studied but never felt. The scientific part of my brain tries to catalog the sensations even as they threaten to overwhelm me completely.

I stand there in red lace and promise, every monitor showing what we can all see with our eyes. I'm coming apart at the seams, the brilliant professor reduced to pure sensation. The realization hits me with sudden clarity.

"All variables," I gasp suddenly, looking at each of them in turn. "The experiment requires testing all variables simultaneously for accurate data."

"Together?" Roman's voice could melt steel.

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