The owl arrived while Hermione was trying to arrange her research. She had several piles of notes on her desk, sorted by most helpful to probably not helpful but possibly needed. It was a company owl that smugly sat in the middle of her desk and messed up her stacks of parchment. When she glared at it, it ruffled its feathers and seemed even more smug. Sometimes, she really hated owls.
She should have known who sent it after it disrupted her work. There was only one person who kept distracting her, after all, and it was just typical of the prat to somehow know she’d managed to finally focus on work and send this owl to disturb her. It had been five days since the File Room Incident, as she had taken to calling it, and this was the first afternoon she’d been able to stop thinking about it long enough to get some actual work done. She should have expected that her focus wouldn’t last for long.
The note was brief and to the point, written in distinctive handwriting that was firm and no-nonsense. Granger, My computer isn’t working properly. Greengrass said that you’d fix it. Now. Zabini. There was no 'please', no 'would you', nothing polite at all. Instead, it was a command and the use of their boss’s name prevented her from refusing, which she had little doubt the smug bastard realized.
She didn’t know why Greengrass had said she’d fix it, though, because she knew very little about the machines. She might be Muggleborn, but she hadn’t ever worked with computers until starting work here. Even now, she used hers rarely, mostly for the monthly reports that Greengrass wanted composed on the computer. She was much more of a parchment and quill girl, which made her a bit of a rarity in a society that was starting to become more advanced as Muggleborns brought more technology with them.
After taking a moment to calm down (and tell herself that she should not be thinking naughty thoughts regarding the condescending smug git across the hall, especially after last week’s incident), she wrote a brief reply. Zabini, I’m in the middle of something. I’ll look at it when I’m finished. Granger. P.S. Next time, you might consider using the word ‘please’.
She sent it off with the evil owl who had scattered her stacks and sighed before she resorted them. It wasn’t five minutes later that the owl flew back in. She took the parchment from it and read the reply. Granger, Now does not mean when you have time. I suggest that you look the word up if you’ve forgotten the definition. You have two minutes. Zabini. P.S. There is a time and a place for that word. This, however, isn’t it.
Her eyes narrowed as she read it. She could practically hear his smug voice in her ear, giving her orders in that demanding tone that infuriated her. She reached for a fresh piece of parchment and her quill to write a response. Zabini, Owl Ted in Accounts Payable if you want immediate service. If you want me, you’re going to have to wait. Granger. P.S. You’re wrong, which isn’t too surprising. There is always a place for ‘please’, especially when you’re asking for help.
The owl gave her a disgruntled look before it flew back across the hall. She sat back in her chair and ran her hand through her hair. She should not be this excited and turned on just from exchanging a few owls. This entire situation was becoming even more ridiculous, especially since the File Room Incident. Hermione couldn’t get the feel and scent of Zabini out of her mind. She had never felt as aroused as she had that afternoon, and wanted to feel that passion again. How could she still want him so desperately when he’d behaved the way he had after and had done his best to ignore her in the days since?
His reply was almost immediate. She scanned it and her smile faded into a scowl. Granger, I have waited long enough. Don’t force me to involve Greengrass. I doubt he’d appreciate his Golden Girl being a rude bitch. You’re late. Zabini P.S. I am rarely ever wrong and don't foresee myself starting to be now.
“Bastard,” she muttered crossly as she stood up and crumpled the parchment. She tossed it into the rubbish and stalked across the hall. It wasn’t a surprise to find him leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head looking so smug she wanted to kiss him. No, not kiss him. Hit him. Right.
“It’s about time,” he drawled in that low voice that she remembered murmuring words of desire in her ear just last week. He was wearing gray trousers and an obviously expensive shirt that was a pale shade of pink that most men would never consider wearing. He somehow managed to make it masculine and it looked fantastic against his dark skin.
“What’s wrong with it?” she demanded sharply, angry at herself for ogling the bastard when she was so annoyed with him.
He arched a brow and gave her a condescending look, giving every impression of someone royal who was deigning to speak to a lowly commoner. “If I knew that, do you really think I’d have summoned you?” he asked dryly.
“Perhaps you just enjoy my company,” she said snidely, all too easily thinking back to the file room when he’d definitely been pleased with having her around. Her cheeks flushed and the familiar lust spread over her as she looked at his full lips and thought about forbidden desire and kisses.
His gaze swept over her, making her feel as if it was his hands touching her instead of his eyes, and he frowned before he motioned towards the computer. “Fix it,” he told her brusquely as he looked away from her.
She studied him a moment and noticed the nerve in his cheek twitch and the way he’d pursed his lips together tightly. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted to act. That realization confused her and excited her all at the same time, which was enough to make her head spin. She’d think about it later, she decided. Right now, she needed to get this done so she could go back to her office and hide from these weird emotions.
The computer was turned on but there wasn’t a picture. She could see the cursor blinking happily even as something was obviously wrong. Hermione walked the rest of the way around the desk and tried to think of any problems she’d had with the computer. “Are you going to move?” she asked pointedly as he crowded her against the desk.
“No,” he drawled lazily. “I’m quite comfortable.”
“Fine,” she muttered crossly as she scowled at him before looking back at the desk. It would have been easier if she’d been able to sit but that wasn’t an option since he seemed determined to annoy her. Instead, she had to lean forward at an angle around him, basically. She tucked a stray lock of hair back into her braid before she typed out a command or two.
Nothing happened. She tried a few more things with no results. It was then she became aware of someone standing behind her. A quick glanced confirmed that the chair was now empty. She licked her lips and tried to focus, which was impossible when she could feel him standing far too close and his scent was soon surrounding her.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, his voice right by her ear. She was startled and jumped slightly. Her heart was racing and it was becoming difficult to breathe with him so close.
“Trying to fix it,” she murmured huskily. God, she was aroused and could feel dampness between her legs just from this casual contact. His breath was warm against her neck as he leaned forward and pressed against her. She shuddered when she felt his chest against her back and her arse was cradled against his groin.
“What are you typing?” he whispered against her skin as his hips pushed forward slightly. She could feel his arousal press against her, relieved that she wasn’t the only one turned on but frustrated all the same.
“A couple of different commands,” she managed to stammer. She bit her lip to keep from moaning when she felt his long fingers lightly skim her ribs before one hand cupped her breast. This had to stop. The logical voice in her head was protesting but, damn, it was so easy to ignore logic when his long fingers were caressing her breast and brushing across her nipple. Still, she should at least try, especially considering what happened last week. “Zabini…”
“Why can’t I stop wanting you?” he growled almost desperately as his other hand moved down her thigh and tugged on her skirt.
“We shouldn’t…” Her protests were forgotten as he began to move his hips, rubbing against her in a rhythm that had her pressing back to meet him. Too many clothes were in the way, but the sensations were still there and her body was on fire by the time his hand slid beneath her skirt.
“I know that,” he groaned against her shoulder before he bit her. She whimpered and her back arched from the feeling of his teeth scraping her skin.
Hermione pushed the keyboard out of the way and leaned over the desk for better leverage. He was grinding against her arse and licking her neck, squeezing her breast as he dragged his finger up and down the wet crotch of her knickers. He didn’t remove the knickers or push the material to the side. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over her clit and teased her nipple through the fabric of her shirt and bra.
Her skirt was around her thighs now, pushed up so he could palm her, pushing two fingers against the damp knickers to tease her. It wasn’t enough yet it was almost too much. Her head fell forward and she panted as she pushed back against his rolling hips. He nipped at her neck, and she rocked against his hand to obtain friction as best as she could.
“Why do I want you so much? Why can’t I stop thinking about you, about this?” he murmured against her neck, echoing the question he’d asked last week. She still had no answer because she didn’t even know why she wanted him so much and found it difficult to believe he could feel the same uncontrollable passionate desire when he always seemed so distant and coolly aloof. He wasn’t distant now, though. He was passionate and desperate and needed just as badly as she did.
Suddenly, he pushed forward hard and shuddered against her. His fingers twisted her clit as he came in his pants, which sent her over the edge. The tension snapped and she whined softly as she found release. Her knickers were soaked by the time they stopped trembling. He cursed under his breath, so quietly she wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard it, and then he pushed down her skirt and stepped back.
“I apologize, Miss Granger,” he said in that same firm ‘I refuse to discuss the fact that I just basically shagged you against my desk and would have been inside you if not for these clothes’ tone. He frowned when she glanced at him and his gaze seemed drawn to her lips before he shook his head as if to clear it. “I trust that you’ll be finished and gone by the time I return.”
Then he walked out before she had time to say anything. She ran her hand over her face and sat back in his chair, groaning as she realized he’d done it again. What gave him the right to excite her, arouse her, make her come, and then apologize before running away? She sighed as she realized that this was becoming complicated and still didn’t make any sense beyond mutual desire that seemed to be uncontrollable whenever they were alone.
Hermione looked at his computer screen and stuck her tongue out at the blinking cursor, blaming it for this latest lapse in control. She hit ctrl-alt-delete and watched with satisfaction as the machine rebooted and started without problem. A little box appeared asking for his username and password, which meant she’d at least managed to fix that problem.
Once it was back up and running, she left his office and went to hers, shutting the door behind her. It was too bad that she couldn’t reboot her life. It would be nice to not have this ridiculous attraction that just seemed to get worse with every passing day, especially after she’d just been pushed over a desk and come hard just from being rubbed. It was confusing, distracting, illogical, and she had to figure out how to make it stop.
The only solution was to avoid being anywhere alone with Zabini because it was obvious that bad things happened when they were together. It shouldn’t be too difficult to do since they managed to avoid each other for the most part since he’d started working for the company. A couple of weeks without losing control or doing very bad things that led to annoying apologies and wet knickers should do it. After all, this lust had to fade away some time. Didn’t it?
End