Zed squinted at her reflection in the mirror, eyeballing her hair, making sure that its center crest held strong and straight. She couldn't remember the last time she'd bothered fussing over her appearance - sometime during her earliest days in the Vanguard, she supposed - and it felt foreign to be so concerned, now. She wanted to believe that it had to do with her desire to make a decent impression, to appear professional to prospective clients, but, in truth, she knew better. It had to do with . . . him. At the very least, it had to do with what had happened with him. The thing was that what had happened had entirely to do with the man himself, to begin with. He was a soldier, her superior, one of the strongest, most capable men she'd ever known. He was massive, intelligent, and serious, and he treated her like an equal, neither dwelling on her gender nor dismissing it. So it came back to him. She'd never felt that wildness in herself before, that desperate need to experience everything that she'd been denying herself for over a decade. She hadn't realized that her body could do what it had, that she could experience such . . . sensations. And his strength... Zed blew out a hasty breath, unintentionally fogging the mirror, then swiped her hand across its cool surface to clear a broad strip of glass. She felt hot all over, memories of his restraint blurring with those of his own streak of wildness, and she had to splash cold water on her face to try to fight that feverish haze that was threatening to overtake her senses. Even as he'd been shooing her out the door, she'd been considering trying to slam him against the nearest wall, to take more from him despite the soreness that still radiated throughout her body. Of course, even the element of surprise wouldn't have prevented him from stopping her - but she'd been extremely tempted to try, nonetheless. Only the knowledge that he would, undoubtedly, do so had kept her in check; the threat of rejection wasn't something she was quite prepared to face, and she was concerned that she might lose track of the fact that it was only physical, and nothing more: an odd worry to be confronted with, and one that she'd never expected. Zed groaned, stepping away from the mirror and giving it the finger. She needed to find another job, to get the fuck out of her tiny flat and do it with a purpose. She needed a distraction, and the coin wouldn't hurt, either.