I’m in the lab with Dr. Hampden when he tells me I’m doing a good job, and I’m going places. Sadly, the only place I see myself going is straight to the unemployment line when I don’t graduate.

“I could have never asked for a better sidekick,” he says with a supportive pat to my back.

“I’m not going anywhere if I can’t pass my writing class. I might be the oldest intern you have if I can’t convince Dr. Storm to pass me.”

“Didn't you hear?”

I drop the stabilizer into the test tube and look at the man who has mentored me for years.

“Hear what?”

“Dr. Storm left, and they’ve replaced her with a new guy. He teaches British literature.”

The mention of British makes my heart ache a little for Hugh. The way he called me love and shortened my name to Kat was so sweet. The way he kissed me and held me all night was everything I could have hoped for. More would have been nice, but he was gone, and I was going to be late.

“Speaking of class, I need to go.” I hang up my lab-coat, pick up my backpack, and race to the class feeling doomed. Dr. Storm was tough, but at least I knew her teaching style. It was a dash of Stalin mixed with a hint of Maleficent.

I race into the lecture hall and sigh. This class is like the movie, “Groundhog Day.” I am on perpetual repeat.

I doodle and draw, thinking about Hugh. The class turns silent as the instructor walks to the podium. I reach for my notebook when I hear his voice. It’s like he’s talking just to me. That voice that threads through my body and makes me quiver.

“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Hugh Fletcher.”

I stare at him in shock. He looks sexy but serious. I try to hide behind a student, thinking there’s no way I can stay in this class. His gaze sweeps over the class, right past me like he doesn’t see me. Or maybe he does and he doesn’t care. My insides fill with relief and disappointment. I want to see that glint in his eyes. The same glint he gives me before he tortures my sex with his tongue. Maybe his words weren’t true. Maybe I am forgettable after all.

I am destined to flunk this class too because although his mouth moves, I never hear a word he says.

I stare at the fresh shirt and the blue tie I hadn’t seen. I watch every movement of his hands as if they are traveling over my body.

He captivates me. He said he was in the arts, but I never asked more. I should have asked more.

A groan escapes my lips and several heads turn my way.

“Did you have a question Ms…?”

I sit up straight. “My name is Katherine Trent and no, I don’t have a question.” I want to add that my friends call me Katy, but I don't because at this point, I don't know if Hugh is friend or foe.

“Nice to meet you, Kat. I’m looking forward to this class.”

He turns back toward the rest of the class, and I wonder if anyone noticed that he gave me a nickname?

I have to give him credit. Once I focus on his lecture, I can see he has a way with words. The way he lectures is different. I’m able to grasp and appreciate the course, or maybe my head is back in Atlanta where he fills me with himself.

I raise my hand to ask a question.

“Ms. Trent. Do you have a question now?”

Maybe it’s all in my head, but I swear I catch him staring at my boobs.

“Is the syllabus the same as last year?” A few students laugh because they understand I’m on another round of a class that most people breeze through.

“Can you see me after class? I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” The way he says the word need fills me with it.

I hang back until all the other students leave and I approach him.

“Come with me.” He gathers his things and leads me out the door. There isn’t a hint of the passion we shared. To anyone looking, we’re just two people walking down the corridor.

We walk in silence. I hug my backpack against my chest and look down at my feet. I count my steps hoping to arrive at our destination soon. Out of the corner of my eye, I admire his frame, I feel woozy inside and weak kneed. I thought I said goodbye to him, and here he is again. He's my professor.

“This is the class?” He asks me, breaking the silence.

“Yes. I feel like one of the hamsters in my lab. I keep running around the wheel.”

He nods and smiles. “Let’s see if we can get you off.” He fidgets with the key and unlocks the door, swinging it wide open. The light flickers on and I take in the room where we are—his private office.

“So, would you like to guess what I’m thinking about right now?” He shuts the door and locks it then walks behind his desk and sits in the chair.

“Errrrm, you’re thinking about how to kick me out of your class?” I mutter.

“Wrong, very wrong” he responds. “I’ve been thinking about you. How smart you are. How sexy you are. How one night was not enough. I want more. I need more.” He stops talking and looks at me with desperate need in his eyes.

“But you’re my professor, and I can’t mess this up.”

“Neither one of us knew, Kat. We’ll figure it out.” He slides back in his chair, and pats his lap. “Come here. Tell me what you’re thinking.” He seems to tire of waiting for me to come to him and he reaches for me. One tug of my arm, and I fall into his lap. I smile widely because he said he had been thinking about me.

“I’m thinking about how the last two days have been surprising and wondering where this is going to take us.”

“Are you feeling a little reckless?”

That word sends a jolt of knowing to my girlie bits. He hasn’t even breached the barrier of my pants and I’m wet for him.

“What do you have in mind?”

“It won’t be fun if I tell you, but I can show you. Would you like to see?”

The room suddenly seems too hot for me as I feel sweat breaking forth from my forehead.

I look up at a man who in one night changed my life. There is only one answer. “Yes, Hugh, I want to see.”

My legs tremble, and I struggle to hold them still. He lifts me from his lap and swipes everything from his desk to the floor. The hard wood presses to my back while his rock hard erection presses against my jeans. In minutes, I’m naked and he’s pressing into me.