Nyota opened her eyes for the umpteenth time to gaze at her lover. No, not "lover", she thought. She knew they loved each other, but they had yet to consummate their relationship, though not for lack of effort on HER part. "Boyfriend?" That characterization didn't seem accurate either—he was hardly simply a "friend." She bit her lower lip as she admired his physique…oh yeah, he certainly wasn't no "boy" either. For the thousandth time, she suppressed her urge to shove him down to the floor, pull his pants down, lift her skirt, and….
"Nyota," Spock said, his brisk exhalation serving as an understated exclamation point. "This is the fifteen time you have ceased meditation this evening," he continued evenly, not even opening his eyes to look at her as he spoke. "What is the logic of meditating when one so apparently does not desire to do so? Are the methods I have taught you insufficient to quiet your mind?"
Silently laughing, Nyota's full lips twisted into a smirk. "Oh, the problem isn't the method, Professor. It's the distraction." She bent forward across the meditation mat and reached out to caress his lips and then the point of his ear.
Spock finally opened his eyes and caught her hand as she attempted to lower her hand to caress his broad shoulders. "That statement is illogical. The very purpose of meditation is to eliminate distractions," he said gravely.
Nyota drew closer, broke his hold upon her wrist. "You know," she replied with a sensual timbre in her voice, "there are some distractions that just can't be eliminated."
Spock quirked one eyebrow as Nyota's lips approached his. "Distractions…such as?"
Nyota slipped one hand past the waistband of his pants and stroked him intimately, reveling in the rapid, thick swelling. Yes, yes, this was definitely NOT a "boy"! "Desire," she murmured against his lips.