Chapter 5

Krista

I can barely walk, which I’m going to turn into a positive scenario—meaning, I just participated in the best sex of my life with not one, not two, but three guys at once.

I’ve never partaken in such wildly crazy shenanigans like this before!

I hurriedly dress myself as the guys grin, cocky, satisfied expressions on their faces.

“I’m sorry,” I hastily apologize to them as I try to scamper to the closed door of the packing room.

“Going somewhere so soon?” The blond, charismatic one grins at me.

“Yes.” I nod and clutch my purse to my chest. “I’m sorry, it’s getting really late. I need to go home now.”

I don’t even live in the fucking city yet, I want to admit, but they don’t need to know that much information about me.

As I drive back home, I realize something crucial and substantially uncharacteristic for me:

I don’t even know any of their names.

How could I have let this happen?

I mentally begin to crumble, because I’m an emotional mess, and I get off hindering myself by my emotionally crippled tendencies.

Not to mention, I have a big fucking day ahead of me. I need to get a decent night’s sleep because if I don’t, I’ll have shit for brains in the morning when I’m supposed to be revving up for a day of academically challenging excitement.

When I get home, I flick on the lights to my apartment, but the glare is too bright, so I immediately switch them back off.

My eyes are too accustomed to the dark now, so I turn on the television to illuminate a softer, more decently proportional glow through the room.

Much better.

I plop down on my couch and place my hand on my deliciously sore, still throbbing pussy.

What a wild night. If only I could relive it with those same guys.

Yeah, right. I’ll probably never see them again because why would I? In a city of eight million people, the odds are stacked high against me.

If I don’t even have their names, then I’ll never find them, not even on social media. What am I supposed to do, google ‘hot guys I slept with the other night?’

I don’t think that even google is genius enough to pull off that find for me.

I know I need to relinquish control and hit the sack. I need to be refreshed and rejuvenated in the morning for my first day at the university.

I trudge with heavy feet to my bedroom and peel off my clothes so that I’m only in my underwear.

I collapse onto the warm, cozy sheets and instantly pass out. I’m sure I’m snoring like a banshee, but luckily, I live alone and don’t have to worry about it.

Hopefully, I’ll see the cute threesome of guys in my sleep tonight because at this point, they can only exist now in my dreams.

* * *

I’m just going to go out on a limb here and say that you—along with everybody else on the fucking planet—will probably tend to concur with me that Mondays suck a big fat dick.

Only this Monday, I’m looking forward to taming the beast and grabbing the day by the horns.

Yep, you’re guessing right. It’s my first day at university, and I need to head to the faculty room to get my instructions.

I don’t want to be late, so I head out of my house more than two hours before my schedule permits me to be there.

I need to account for traffic and factor in any issue that might stand in my way of being punctual.

I glance at my reflection one last time before heading out.

Fuck, I have enough make-up on to headline as the star of a drag show, but I can’t change it now—I have to get going. I went a little trigger happy on the concealer application, because I wanted to make sure the bags under my eyes reflecting exhaustion won’t shine out to the world.

On the ride to NYU, I find myself daydreaming of the handsome trio of men who had their way with me last night.

Even thinking about it now is getting my pussy all warm and tingly again. I’m craving them—which I already expect to happen for a while.

I take a deep breath and sigh. I need to focus on my making a lasting and substantially favorable first impression.

I want to climb to the top of my field, and I can’t achieve my goals unless I work my ass off—a fact that I’m already astutely aware of.

I’m new to this, and I have to jump on an already moving train. If I can become friends with everyone by just being my chatty, bubbly self, then hopefully, my outgoing nature will kick in and do the rest.

The faculty members will hold my focus for today, however, because I need to work to impress them the most.

I give myself a pep talk through the tunnel, telling Krista Abernathy that she’s a smart, determined woman who has the world at her feet.

I can do this.

Yes, I do give myself serenading pep talks all the time. It works, and it does the trick of calming me down.

I can’t wait to dive right into the work and begin my research. I might be somewhat of a nerd, but as I think about spreading my legs for those hot guys, I know I’m anything but a mousy bookworm.

When I arrive at the university, I first go to the admissions office to get instructions on where to go next and how to proceed.

I greet a friendly-looking receptionist with straight brown hair and trendy glasses.

“Hello.” I give her a warm smile in greeting. “I’m Krista Abernathy. It’s my first day as a research grad student,” I state with an air of pride.

“Welcome to NYU, and congratulations on getting accepted.” The approachable receptionist gives me a bright, beaming smile.

Fantastic. I’m on the right track already, kind people eager to help me continue to cross my path.

“Thank you.” I grin merrily. “I need assistance in locating the faculty and staff room.”

“Sure, I’ll be happy to help.” The receptionist reaches into a drawer and pulls out a pamphlet. “There’s a little map on the inside of this brochure, but if you just go out the same set of double doors you came through to get in here, and turn left, it’s all the way at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you so much.” I take the map from her gratefully. “This helps enormously.”

“It can seem like a big, intimidating place, but as soon as you get a handle on things, you will have no problem.”

I’m not even nervous when I walk down the hallway, each step I take representing my new and improved future.

Once I get to the door with the words “Faculty and Staff Room” on a little plaque, I feel right at home, almost as if I’m exactly where I should be.

I open the door and look around the room, smiling. The quiet hum of people chatting fills the air, and I radiate pride for working hard enough to be a part of this group of intellectuals. Then my heart drops through my chest onto the floor and splatters everywhere into a huge mess.

Not really. I’m just being dramatic, but to me, that’s the intensity of what this moment is for me.

Standing in the corner across the room on the other side, I spot, to my horror, the three guys I fucked in the supply room of the bar last night.

What?

How the hell is this happening?

I freeze in place as the reality hits me that these men are only in this room for one reason, just like me.

Shit! Shit…shit…shit.

Is there a hole in the wall I can crawl into and run away?

Nope? Nothing? I have to stay here and endure this fresh hell?

Alright…

I take a deep breath. I can do this.

At the exact same moment, the guys notice me, too, and their faces turn stark white, like a sheet. So, I’m not the only one reeling from this.

“Ms. Abernathy?”

I spin around at the sound of my name.

“Professor Finnigan.” I force a smile in greeting. “So good to see you.”

Professor Finnigan is my mentor and the person who interviewed me before my acceptance into the program.

“Have you met my three colleagues?” Professor Finnigan gestures to his left, and I jump a few inches when I see who is now standing right beside me.

Yes, you guess correctly. The three guys.

“I’m sorry, did we startle you? We didn’t mean to.” The blond one grins, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“No, it’s fine,” I mumble and glance at my shoes.

They clear their throats and try to look anywhere other than directly at me.

“This is Dylan Davis, King Smith, and Simon Harris,” the professor says, innocently smiling. Because he has no fucking clue.

“Hello,” I greet them and pray that Professor Finnigan can’t see the profound shades of crimson currently coloring my cheeks.

Great, so now that we are formally introduced, we can live happily ever after.

Yeah, right, if only it could be that easy. They, too, are members of this same faculty. Lucky me.

“Professor,” I turn to face Finnigan, “Where can I get my schedule roster?”

“You can pick it up when you go back through the admissions office,” he politely tells me.

“Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you all.” I nod at the three men and quickly spin to walk away. I can’t get the hell out of there fast enough.

After retrieving my schedule, I head to my first class of the day, trying to anxiously ward off the jitters. What the hell have I gotten myself into?