Early the next morning, the interns are tapping away at their computers.

Clara’s incredibly taste still lingers on my lips.

I watch her as she works. Sexy, smart, intense. I want to tell the rest of these guys to get the fuck out of here so I can make her come again, over and over.

That image of her, sitting on that desk, her legs spread, is still driving me wild. Last night, I jerked myself off twice just thinking about it.

And I’m still basically hard looking at her. I don’t know how I’m going to help myself.

But I know I need some measure of control.

I spend most of the session working with Coop and Alan. They came across some issues on the code that need solving, and we put our heads together to work it out. That helps to distract me from Clara.

But of course, that’s only temporary.

Fuck, I feel like a kid again, like a teenager with a crush. I’m lusting after this girl like I never have before, not in a very long time.

Maybe it’s how wrong this is. Maybe it’s the inherent risk in what we’re doing.

Or maybe it’s just her, just Clara.

Her taste, her body…

It’s all I want.

“Good work today,” I say after time’s up. Coop and Alan grin and wave as they leave. Howard lingers, asks me some boring questions, but I give him some attention.

Clara’s still sitting at her computer, still typing away.

Eventually, Parker and Howard head out. I move over to Clara and watch her for a second.

She finally looks up, gives me a smile.

“How was it today?” I ask her.

“Not bad,” she says.

“And the others?”

“They’re ignoring me.”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “I don’t care either way.”

“Good.” I watch her closely for a moment. “Are you hungry?”

She frowns. “A little bit.”

“Come on. Let’s grab something.”

She hesitates a second. “I mean… is that safe?”

I laugh. “Professors and students get food together all the time. Come on, it’s not like I’m going to eat you out in the middle of campus.”

She blushes like crazy, which I love. We gather our stuff, shut everything down, and walk out of the building together.

There’s a little coffee place down the street. We talk about the work together as we walk and head inside.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask,” she says as we get our coffee and find a spot to sit.

“What’s that?”

“Are you still involved with Meteor?”

I nod. Meteor Metrics is the company I founded and made my fortune off of. “Still active, yeah.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“Hard to let go of something you built, even if you’re not in control anymore.”

We find a two-person table near a window and sit down. “That must be hard.”

“Sometimes,” I admit. “I gave up a lot for Meteor, so it’s hard to see it in someone else’s hands.”

“What did you give up?”

I purse my lips, glance out the window. I don’t normally talk like this about my old company.

Actually, I don’t normally talk about it at all.

“Personal life stuff, mostly,” I admit to her. “Wife, kids, all that.”

“But you’ve had plenty of girlfriends.”

I grin at her. “That’s true. Sometimes I forget that people know all about my personal life.”

“You haven’t exactly been shy with the media.”

“Good point. I used to treat that sort of stuff as free press for my company, but now…” I shrug a little. “I’ve given up a lot, like I said.”

She hesitates a second, sips her coffee. “Is that part of why you’re here, at Monray?”

I cock my head. “Maybe.”

“You’re hiding from the media.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Because, I mean, if you were at Harvard or something, people would be all over you. They’d know.”

I grin at her. I didn’t think she’d put that part of this puzzle together so quickly, but clearly I underestimated her. “That’s right,” I say. “I’m also good friends with the dean.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Why?” I ask.

“You’re both rich white guys.”

I laugh, grinning huge. “We went to college together. And Roman is Hispanic.”

She shrugs. “You know what I mean.”

“Not all wealthy people know each other.”

“That’s what you want us to think.”

I laugh again and she grins at me, clearly joking around.

“Well, what about you? How’d you end up at Monray?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “I grew up in the area and I know it’s a good school. They let me in, gave me a decent scholarship, so… here I am.”

“Boring story,” I say, grinning.

She laughs. “We’re not all billionaires, you know.”

“True. Do you have family?”

“Yep. Mom and dad still live at home. I have an older brother, he’s out in California.”

“Close with them?” I ask.

“My parents, yeah, but not really my brother.”

“Why not?”

“He’s… difficult. Opinionated.”

“He’s a California liberal.”

“Basically.”

I laugh again. I ask her about her parents and she tells me about them, about their normal middle-class life. Her father works for an insurance company and her mother works part-time at a local school district.

She grew up normal, band practice, soccer games, all that. Middle-class living.

“What about you?” she asks.

“I have two brothers and three sisters,” I say. “Mom and dad were prolific.”

She laughs at that. “Really?”

“I’m the middle child. Sisters are all younger, brothers are all older.”

“Oh, weird.”

“Right? Mom didn’t work, and Dad was… well, he did a lot of stuff. Mostly construction, but he owned a bar at one point, and he was a bookie for a while.”

“A bookie, seriously?”

“It was a different time, but yeah, seriously.”

“Wow. How did you end up like this?”

“Hard work,” I say. “Did well in school, got into Yale, launched Meteor from my dorm. Back when that sort of thing was possible.”

She laughs and listens as I tell her about my family, about my crazy old brothers and my crazier younger sisters.

It’s strange, talking about all this with a girl half my age, but I forget all about that as we get talking. Her age disappears, and I find myself just talking like we’re two normal people sharing coffee.

Since that’s what we are. Nobody knows that I got her off yesterday and that I can’t stop thinking about it.

She checks her watch after about a half hour of easy talking. “Oh, shit,” she says. “I lost track of time. I gotta get going.”

“Class?”

She nods, standing up. “Class.”

“Okay then.”

She hesitates, smiles at me. “I’ll see you later.”

I nod and watch as she walks away. But instead of going out the front… she heads to the back, to the bathrooms.

I don’t know why I do it. I get up and follow her without thinking. The coffee shop isn’t busy right now, and the bathrooms are located in a little alcove tucked in the back. It’s totally empty when I get back there, and nobody’s coming or going.

She comes back out from the unisex stall a second later. She blinks, surprised to see me. I step forward, pushing her back into the bathroom.

I kick the door shut and kiss her.

Slow and deep, I kiss her. I need to taste her. She kisses me back without another word.

I break off the kiss after a slow moment. “I know this isn’t the most romantic spot,” I whisper in her ear. “But I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to learn some self-control, Professor,”

I smirk at her. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“Maybe not.”

I kiss her one more time, turn, and leave the bathroom. I walk away, passing the table, and leaving the coffee shop.

I have a smile on my face, her lips lingering on mine.