He undressed her, then took off his own clothes and got into bed next to her. Slowly, but firmly, he began to touch her stomach and breasts, her hips and buttocks. He reached between her thighs, drawing short strokes with his fingers as he brought his lips to her jaw.
Wen turned toward him and pressed her wet face to his chest and stomach. She slid under the covers and took him deep in her mouth. Before she could bring him past the point of control, Hilo pulled her up toward him and turned her over, working on Wen in turn until she was straining wetly against his attention. It had been a long time since they’d concentrated fully on each other’s bodies; their movements were questioning but deliberate, like experienced lovers with new partners. They held their breaths in the shivering moment when he pushed inside her.
It was far from the most energetic or passionate sex they’d ever had, but it was the most determined. They jogged toward climax together, out of practice. Afterward, they didn’t speak, but slept with their fingers laced together in the darkness.
CHAPTER
10
You Can’t Win
the sixth year, tenth month
Shae opted to take the five-hour-long train ride to Lukang. The business-class train cars were more comfortable than Kekon Air’s regional planes, and she could spend the time enjoying the passing countryside and getting work done.
She reviewed all that she’d learned about the Six Hands Unity clan with her new chief of staff, Luto Tagunin. Over the past six months, Luto had proven himself to be a fast learner, highly organized, and relentlessly energetic. He did not seem to need much sleep. The twenty-six-year-old worked late, went out carousing with friends, and seemed none the worse for it early the following morning. He was already adeptly navigating the complexity of the business side of the clan, and Shae had been impressed by his attention to detail.
The one thing that was likely to hold Luto back from advancement in the clan was the fact that he was not a Green Bone. That was not a strict barrier to most jobs on the business side of No Peak, but would be seen as a disadvantage at the upper levels of leadership and would shut him out of certain social circles. Overall, Shae was not in any specific way disappointed with Luto, except for the glaring and inescapable fact that he was not Woon Papidonwa.
Luto was not as thoughtful and experienced as Woon. He didn’t have Woon’s calm presence and he didn’t anticipate her thoughts the way Woon seemed to. Luto couldn’t Perceive when she needed him to appear in her office to discuss a difficult issue, he didn’t know when and how to challenge her decisions or poke holes in her logic, he didn’t wait to drive her home at the end of every workday.
Shae reminded herself that she was having difficulty adjusting because until recently, she’d had the same chief of staff since becoming Weather Man. It would take time to become accustomed to someone else in the role. It wasn’t as if she didn’t see Woon anymore. His new office was only one floor below hers, and they still spoke nearly every day. The clan’s Sealgiver was busy handling the public announcement that No Peak was partnering with the Kekonese military and bringing in IBJCS experts to design a more robust and modern training program in the jade disciplines. Whenever Shae passed by the office of the Weather Man’s Shadow down the hall from her own and felt a stab of disappointment to see it occupied by Luto instead of Woon, she would find some excuse to descend one floor simply to get close enough to Perceive his familiar aura.
After the kiss they’d shared in her house, Shae had mustered the courage to go to Woon’s new office on Firstday morning. She was the Weather Man, after all, the higher-ranked Green Bone. She ought to resolve the situation. “Papi-jen,” she said determinedly, walking in and shutting the door behind her. “About last week, I—”
Before she could get out another word, Woon stood up, nearly knocking over his own chair. “Don’t say anything else, Shae-jen.” He stared at her for only a few seconds before averting his eyes, as if she were standing in front of a floodlight and it was hard for him to look directly at her. He lowered his voice. “You know how I feel about you. If you apologize for what happened and tell me you didn’t mean any of it, it’ll be unbearable to me. If you tell me that you did mean it and you feel the same way, that would be even worse, because if I thought there was a chance . . .” The knob of his throat bobbed and his jade aura churned with conflicted feelings, a riot of textures that Shae couldn’t parse. “I can’t leave Kiya. It wouldn’t be honorable of me. Not after everything we’ve been through. And I can’t stand the idea of losing your respect and friendship either. Would it . . . would it be possible for us to keep working together and just . . . try not to let it get in the way?”