The steel beams of the new university library gleamed under the afternoon sun, their surfaces still warm from the day’s labor. Denny stepped over a scattered pile of rebar, her heels sinking slightly into the damp earth as she surveyed the skeletal structure rising before her. The air smelled of sweat, oil, and the faint metallic tang of progress. She had worn a crisp blouse and tailored slacks—her usual armor—but the dust of the site clung to her, a gritty reminder that this was Zid’s domain, not hers.
A low whistle cut through the hum of machinery. She didn’t need to turn to know it was him. Zid had a way of making his presence known without saying a word, as if the very air bent to announce his arrival. She kept her gaze fixed on the framework, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
“Admiring my handiwork?” His voice was smooth, threaded with amusement.
Denny finally turned, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. “I was admiring the lack of it. This was supposed to be finished last month.”
Zid wiped his hands on a rag, his muscles shifting beneath the thin fabric of his rolled-up sleeves. The man was infuriatingly at ease, as if deadlines were mere suggestions. “Quality takes time, counselor. You, of all people, should appreciate that.”
She arched a brow. “Quality also adheres to contracts.”
He grinned, and there it was—that maddening confidence, the kind that had both irritated and intrigued her from the moment they’d met. “Then sue me.”
Denny exhaled through her nose, but the heat creeping up her neck had nothing to do with the sun. She remembered the last time they’d traded barbs like this—over dinner, then whiskey, then less and less clothing until the only thing left between them was skin and want. The memory was a live wire, sparking under her ribs.
Zid stepped closer, his boots crunching over loose gravel. “You’re not here to inspect the work. You’re here because you missed me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, but the words lacked their usual bite.
He tilted his head, eyes tracing the line of her collarbone, the pulse there betraying her. “Then why are you still standing here instead of storming off to file a complaint?”
Denny opened her mouth, then closed it. The truth was, she *had* missed him—the way his hands mapped her body like a blueprint, the rough edge of his voice when he was deep inside her. But admitting that would give him too much power, and Denny never surrendered power.
She lifted her chin. “I came to see if your work was as shoddy as your punctuality.”
Zid chuckled, low and knowing. “Brave words for someone standing in the middle of my construction site in those shoes.” His gaze dropped to her heels, then slowly dragged up her legs. “Though I have to admit, I like the view.”
A shiver ran through her, and she cursed herself for it. She should’ve worn flats. Should’ve worn a damn hazmat suit. But then, she’d always been a sucker for a challenge, and Zid was nothing if not that.
He took another step forward, close enough that she could smell the sweat on him, the faint musk of his cologne beneath it. “You’re tense.”
“I’m surrounded by unfinished work.”
“No,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a speck of dust from her shoulder. His fingers lingered. “This is different.”
Denny swallowed. His touch was a brand, even through the fabric of her blouse. “Stop analyzing me like one of your damn blueprints.”
Zid’s smile turned wolfish. “But you’re so much more interesting than steel and concrete.” His hand slid up her arm, slow, deliberate. “Or maybe you just need a reminder of how good we are together.”
She should’ve pulled away. Should’ve reminded him that she was Denny goddamn Whitmore, heiress, lawyer, a woman who didn’t let men—especially not infuriatingly handsome engineers—dictate her actions. But the heat of his palm was intoxicating, and the memory of his mouth on hers was a siren call she couldn’t ignore.
“You’re insufferable,” she breathed.
“And yet,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, “here you are.”
The air between them thickened, charged with the same electricity that had crackled between them from the first. Denny’s body remembered his before her mind could protest—how his hands had gripped her hips, how his mouth had trailed down her spine, how he’d made her beg in a way she’d never beg in a courtroom.
Zid’s other hand found her waist, pulling her against him. She could feel the hard ridges of his body, the evidence of his desire pressing against her stomach. “Tell me to stop,” he challenged, his voice rough.
Denny’s breath hitched. She should. She *should*. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Not when his touch sent fire licking through her veins, not when the promise of his body against hers was the only thing she could focus on.
Instead of pushing him away, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him closer. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Zid didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth crashed onto hers, hot and demanding, and Denny met him stroke for stroke, her frustration and desire twisting into something raw and hungry. His hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head just so, and she moaned into his mouth as his tongue swept inside, tasting her like she was something rare, something precious.
The kiss deepened, and Denny’s fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin against hers. Zid broke away just long enough to shrug out of it, the fabric pooling at his feet. His chest was a landscape of hard muscle and dark ink—a tattoo she remembered tracing with her tongue, a memory that had her pulse spiking.
“Your office,” she managed, her voice husky. “Now.”
Zid’s eyes burned. “Bossy as ever.”
She nipped at his lower lip. “You love it.”
He didn’t argue. Instead, he scooped her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the temporary trailer that served as his on-site office. The door was barely closed before he pinned her against it, his body pressing her into the thin wood. Denny gasped as his mouth found her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
“Zid,” she gasped, her head falling back.
“Say my name again,” he growled, his hands sliding under her blouse to palm her breasts over her lace bra.
“Zid.”
He groaned, the sound vibrating against her skin. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His fingers deftly unhooked her bra, and the cool air of the trailer hit her exposed skin before his warm mouth replaced it, his tongue swirling around one taut peak.
Denny arched into him, her nails digging into his shoulders. The pleasure was sharp, almost overwhelming, and she needed more. She fumbled with his belt, her fingers clumsy with need, and Zid chuckled darkly before batting her hands away to do it himself. The clink of the buckle was loud in the small space, followed by the whisper of his zipper.
She didn’t wait for him to finish. Denny dropped to her knees, her hands already pushing his pants and boxers down his hips. His length sprang free, thick and heavy in her palm, and she licked her lips before taking him into her mouth.
Zid hissed, his fingers tangling in her hair as she worked him with her tongue, her lips, her hand stroking the base in time with her movements. “Christ, Denny,” he groaned, his hips twitching forward. “Just like that.”
She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper, and the salty taste of him filled her senses. The power of having him at her mercy was intoxicating, but she wanted more—wanted all of him, in every way possible.
Zid seemed to read her mind. He pulled her up, capturing her mouth in another searing kiss before spinning her around to press her against the door. His hands made quick work of her slacks, pushing them down her hips along with her panties, leaving her bare and exposed.
“Bend over,” he ordered, his voice rough with need.
Denny complied, bracing her hands against the door as she arched her back, offering herself to him. The first touch of his fingers between her legs had her gasping. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his digits sliding through her folds, teasing her entrance. “Already ready for me.”
“Stop talking and do something about it,” she shot back, though her voice was breathless.
Zid chuckled, but he didn’t make her wait. He positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he guided himself to her entrance. The first thrust was slow, deliberate, filling her inch by inch until she was stretched around him, full and aching in the best way.
Denny moaned, her head falling forward as he began to move, each stroke deep and unrelenting. The door rattled with every thrust, the sound a dirty soundtrack to the way their bodies came together. Zid’s hands were everywhere—on her hips, her ass, reaching around to circle her clit as he pounded into her.
“You feel amazing,” he groaned, his breath hot against her ear as he leaned over her. “So tight, so perfect.”
Denny couldn’t form words. She could only feel—the slick slide of him inside her, the friction of his fingers, the building pressure coiling tight in her core. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.
Zid’s free hand slid up her back, pushing her blouse up to expose her skin. His mouth followed, kissing, biting, marking her as his. The dual sensations—his cock driving into her, his mouth on her spine—sent her spiraling closer to the edge.
“I’m close,” she managed, her voice ragged.
“Not yet,” he growled, his pace slowing just enough to tease her. “I want to feel you come around me.”
Denny whimpered, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. But Zid was relentless. His fingers worked her clit in tight, demanding circles, his thrusts hitting that perfect spot inside her that made her see stars.
“Zid, please—”
“Let go,” he commanded, and she did.
The orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body clenching around him as pleasure wracked her from head to toe. She cried out, her nails scraping against the door as her legs shook. Zid didn’t stop, his movements becoming erratic, his own release building.
With a groan, he buried himself deep and stilled, his body shuddering as he spilled inside her. Denny could feel every pulse, every twitch, and it sent another smaller wave of pleasure through her.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Zid stayed buried inside her, his arms wrapped around her waist as they both caught their breath. The trailer was quiet except for the sound of their ragged breathing, the distant hum of the construction site a world away.
Finally, Zid pressed a kiss to her shoulder before pulling out. Denny turned to face him, her legs still unsteady. He grinned, that same infuriating, confident grin, but this time, she didn’t mind. Not when his eyes were soft with satisfaction, not when his body still thrummed with the aftershocks of what they’d just shared.
“Still think my work is shoddy?” he asked, tucking himself back into his pants with a smirk.
Denny rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress her own smile. “Your work is… acceptable.” She bent to pick up her discarded slacks, her body still humming. “But don’t think this means I’m letting you off the hook for the delay.”
Zid chuckled, pulling her against him for another kiss, this one slow and lingering. “Wouldn’t dream of it, counselor.”
Denny melted into him, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body against hers, the knowledge that this—whatever this was between them—was far from over. As she dressed, she caught sight of the blueprints rolled up on his desk, the intricate lines and measurements a testament to his skill.
She smirked. “You know, for an engineer, you’re not half bad at this either.”
Zid laughed, the sound rich and warm. “And for a lawyer, you’re not half bad at admitting when you’re wrong.”
Denny arched a brow. “I didn’t admit anything.”
“No?” He pulled her close again, his hands settling on her waist. “Then what was that, if not an admission?”
She grinned, pressing a quick, hard kiss to his lips. “That, Zid, was a strategic retreat.” With a wink, she slipped out of his grasp and toward the door. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back to inspect your work again soon.”
Zid’s laughter followed her out of the trailer, and Denny couldn’t help but smile as she stepped back into the sunlight, the dust of the construction site clinging to her skin like a promise.