“See you in the conference room,” he says, heading out the door.

Wow, that was incredible.

I never thought sex could be like that. So fast, but yet so hot and intense, so carnal.

I try my best to straighten my hair and my dress, and do a little bit of cleanup with some wipes I have in my handbag, which thankfully, I thought to bring with me.

I also pick up Ryan’s condom and condom wrapper from the floor and stuff it into my handbag. I’m sure he wouldn’t care if someone found it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t.

Before I head back into the conference room, I need to clear my head, so I go into the ladies’ room, which is strangely empty. Oh, I remember, it’s a completely new office.

But still, there’s a couch here, and I sit down on it for a moment, after making sure I look OK in the mirror.

Hailey’s going to kill me.

She was worried I’m falling for the douchebag billionaire, and I think I am. Worse, I fucked him again.

But that’s the kind of stuff Hailey does all the time. She’s always complaining to me about a boy, and then she doesn’t come home the next night, and I find out later she’s slept with him again.

I’ve seen the guys that Hailey hooks up with—they’re nothing like Ryan. Ryan’s a man, with commanding muscles, presence, not to mention his cock…

I could dream about his cock for hours.

I never understood what all the fuss was about, honestly, when Hailey used to go on and on about a guy’s cock, keeping the descriptions supposedly “light” for me since I was still inexperienced… still a virgin.

But now I get it. I get it like nothing else I’ve ever gotten. It’s just this primal attraction, this primal need I have for Ryan’s massive, girthy cock, which always seems to be rock hard, always ready to penetrate me.

“I sort of slept with him again,” I write to Hailey in a text message. I’m not even sure why I’m writing it, since I probably already know how she’s going to respond with admonishments. But I just have to tell someone.

“Are you serious?” she writes back.

I pause for a moment, wondering what to write.

But while I do, another text message pops up. “So how was it?”

“Intense. Awesome.”

Maybe that sounds cheesy, but I just don’t have the vocabulary to describe what happened.

I put my phone away, check my hair and dress again in the mirror, and go back into the conference room.

Jerry raises an eyebrow as I enter, but doesn’t say anything.

“Finally decided to join us,” says Ryan, his voice cold. But his eyes still burn with lust for me.

Seriously? He’s going to talk to me like that after what we just did?

I don’t say anything. I don’t even know what to say, but my face burns with embarrassment.

At least he’s not the type to kiss and tell, or at least it doesn’t seem like it. I don’t even know if he has any friends. He’s simply too much for someone to handle in that sense. Could Jerry be his friend? Not in a thousand years. They might work well together, but Ryan’s always going to be the boss, no matter what the situation is.

“Jerry’s started on the simulations,” says Ryan. “The three of us are going to have to hunker down and bang this thing out today.”

“Today?” I say. “That’s going to take a week at minimum.” I may be a novice in the world of corporate programming, but even I know that much.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” says Jerry.

“I bet it took Simmons at least a month,” I say.

“The Sisyphus Algorithm is going to destroy the Simmons Algorithm, or the Zen Algorithm, or whatever the hell it’s called,” says Ryan simply. But his voice has power behind it. It’s unquestionable, and authoritative. “We’re going to do whatever it takes, even if it means staying here all night.”

There’s obviously no room for discussion or argument.

So the three of us hunker down over our laptops.

The only conversation we have is our brief comments about who should work on what.

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my mind focused on programming. It’s hard to concentrate. After all, a lot just happened. I should be furious with Ryan, after all, for the way he just talked to me. But I can’t even think about that. Soon, I’m breathing heavily, and it’s not because I’m upset, it’s because I’m turned on again, just thinking about what Ryan did to me in that closet. I need more.

Who would have guessed that the innocent twenty-one year old virgin would turn out to have such an insatiable appetite for the billionaire’s throbbing cock?

OK, I tell myself. Get your head in the game. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for a coder… to work on this Sisyphus Algorithm, to improve it…

I finally manage to focus on the code, with only occasional glances over at Ryan, who’s transfixed by his laptop, pounding away at the keys with rapidly moving fingers.

He’s not like any coder I’ve ever seen.

His body is massive, athletic, and he stands at least a head taller than anyone else in any room. His body screams power and control.

OK, programming, I tell myself, practically screaming the word in my head. Programming, programing, programming. I say this over and over again to myself, like a mantra.

It works.

I’m in the code now, doing things I never imagined I’d be doing.

I’m way over my head, way over my skill set.

This stuff is complicated. We’re doing stuff that researchers at top universities never dreamed could be done.

And it’s just the three of us.

Hey, I guess this is kind of like what I wanted, after all? This may be corporate, but it’s much more like a little group of hackers banging out some serious code.

My phone buzzes in my bag, and it’s another message from Hailey.

“Just be careful,” she says. She includes a link to another article about the famous douchebag billionaire.

I scan the headline. It says something about Ryan Hudson being arrested naked with a woman.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” comes Ryan’s deep voice.

“Oh,” I say. “Nothing. Just a text from my friend.”

He holds out his hand.

“As your boss, I should see what’s keeping you from your work.”

I sigh, and grow red in the face again.

“Whatever,” I say.

Jerry raises another eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. He just bows his head down and pours his fingers into his laptop again.

To my surprise, Ryan starts chuckling when he reads the headline.

“All true,” he says, handing the phone back to me. “They certainly did their homework, whatever PR company is behind this.”

“You…?”

Ryan nods. “Of course,” he says.

“… but not anymore?” I’m not sure how to phrase this question, and it comes out awkward and stilted.

I mean, sure, I know he’s been with a lot of women in the past… but… am I the only one, now?

“You’re already wondering if you’re the only one,” he says, his eyes twinkling, like he’s making fun of me.

I don’t say anything.

“I don’t need anyone else,” he says simply.

So he’s not seeing anyone else, but it’s not exactly like he’s committing to me.

Is the douchebag billionaire even capable of doing that?

I suddenly realize that our relationship is out in the open in front of Jerry, but he knows enough not to even look up. Whatever, I’m sure it was pretty obvious when the two of us disappeared to fuck in the closet in the hallway.

The hours go by, and my fingers start to feel weary from banging away at the keyboard. I’ve never learned how to type properly, letting my fingers drift over the keys the way some coders do. Instead, I tend to bang on the keyboard hard, making each press of the key really count.

“Time for food,” says Ryan, pulling out his phone, not even asking us if we’re hungry.

“My wife’s going to kill me if I eat another meal here,” says Jerry.

“You didn’t eat her cooking?”

“That’s the problem,” says Jerry, patting his stomach. “I ate two dinners instead of one.”

Ryan ignores him and makes the call anyway.

He starts speaking in Spanish, and Jerry looks confused for a moment.

“The best pizza in San Francisco,” I whisper to him, talking under Ryan’s loud and slangy Spanish.

I was pretty good at Spanish in high school, but Ryan’s talking like a native, with plenty of slangy curse words thrown in for good measure.

“A little reminder of last night,” says Ryan, smirking at me, as he hangs up the phone.

Jerry doesn’t comment, except to say, “pizza sounds good.”

The pizza arrives, and Ryan again tips generously, almost frivolously.

“Now we’re acting like real programmers,” says Jerry, his mouth full of pizza, as he cracks open another energy drink. “This time I’m not telling my wife.”

“I don’t think you’ll be seeing her tonight,” says Ryan. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Sure enough, when I went to go buy the energy drinks from the vending machine, which was apparently recently installed, since it still had warning stickers all over it, the rest of the office had all gone home for the night, and the lights were already off.

Jerry knows enough not to argue. His now-greasy pizza fingers just start tapping away at the keys again.

“I think we’re really onto something,” I say. “I mean, I can’t even compile my part yet…”

“We’ve got a lot to do,” says Ryan. “But show me what you have already.”

He takes my laptop from me before I can push it across the table to him.

He moves his swivel chair over towards me, so that he doesn’t have to rearrange where his own laptop is. In this new position, he presses his thigh quite obviously against mine.

My pulse starts to grow rapid. Just at the slightest touch of his body, I quiver…

“Hmm,” says Ryan, looking over my code. “Not bad… Not bad…”

“What’s wrong with it?” I say, immediately growing a little defensive.

“It might work,” is all Ryan says.

Damn, he’s harsh.

By the time midnight rolls around, we think we’ve made some serious progress.

But it’s tough going, and it’s hard to know what we’ve actually managed to do.

Basically, all this work requires hours and hours of coding on the mere hope that my idea could work. But we won’t have any idea if it works until we can compile the program and actually run it. And we can’t compile it or run it the way it is. It’s essentially nothing more than a bunch of little scattered pieces. We’ve taken apart Ryan’s original Sisyphus algorithm, and we’re trying to patch it with little pieces, the way you would add beer cans to a muffler. The code is kind of messy, but hopefully it’s going to work.

“I’m sorry guys,” says Jerry, standing up, as his phone rings for the fifth time tonight. “But I really have to get going.”

“Do what you got to do,” says Ryan, apparently disinterested now.

“All right,” says Jerry. “Goodnight, guys.”

“Goodnight, Jerry,” I say.

Ryan doesn’t say anything. He’s transfixed by his laptop.

I check the time on my cell phone.

I turned it on silent the last time I put it away, and there’s another message from Hailey.

“Where the hell are you?” she wrote. “Another night with the douchebag billionaire? Or just working late? Come home and tell me your latest adventure. You’re getting more action than me.”

I’m too tired to even write back, and I vaguely realize that this means I’m too tired to write code properly.

A minute later, I suddenly wake up with a jerk. I fell asleep without realizing it.

“What happened?” I say.

“You fell asleep,” says Ryan. “You’re too tired to code any longer. Go home.”

Where’s the sweetness in his voice that I imagined we’d share together? Where are the little inside jokes and where’s the flirtiness?

Am I just another one of his women, just another notch on the bedpost? He’s going to take what he wants from me and discard me like all the rest?

I suppose that’s what I wanted, in a way, since I just wanted some hot guy to take my virginity so I could move on. But now that I’ve had sex with him, I realize I want something more. I know there’s something else hiding inside his hard shell… I just don’t know how to get to it.

“Could we talk?” I suggest in my softest voice.

“Talk? About what?” He barely looks up from his computer as he speaks to me.

“Never mind,” I say, realizing that he’s not going to be present with me no matter what. He’s completely focused on his code, on his business. I’m just something secondary to him… It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize this.

“I’m going home,” I say.

“Be here early tomorrow,” is all he says, still not looking up.

What a prick, I think to myself, as I gather up my things and head out the door.

But he’s fucking hot… The sex we had today was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Like, seriously, it was that good.

At least we made some progress on the code, I think to myself.

But then I realize that all the credit is going to go to the douchebag billionaire. I’m just another employee to him… sure, one he likes to fuck and finds hot, but still… just another programmer.

My mind’s in turmoil as I enter the parking lot.

But… was I really expecting some kind of emotional commitment from the douchebag billionaire?

Maybe not, but at least I was expecting something.

I get that he gets absorbed in his work, but this is simply too much.

Fuck! I just realized it’s past midnight, and the buses aren’t going to be running.

I don’t even know what the bus lines are like out here.

I check my phone quickly, trying to figure it out… after all, maybe there’s a bus that runs late or something to this area.

But I can’t for the life of me figure out the San Francisco transit page. The organization doesn’t make any sense. Now I remember that it took me almost a week of planning to figure out how to get to the old office, and it still wasn’t convenient.

There’s a PDF file that I can’t download.

Well, now I can download it, but my phone won’t open it, and there’s probably no wi-fi out here for my laptop to pick up.

Here I am, supposedly a programmer, and I can’t figure out this simple tech thing.

I’m so overwhelmed, I almost feel like I’m going to cry, but I fight back the tears with all my force. If Ryan comes out here, I’m not going to let him see me crying.

The logical thing to do would be to go back inside and ask Ryan for a ride, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to do that.

The more I think about it, the more it bothers me that he just basically ignored me after that hot session in the closet. I mean, who does that?

The answer is as clear as day: the douchebag billionaire, that’s who.

Even though I don’t have a ton of money in the bank right now, since I’m still waiting for my first check, I break down and order an Uber.

My eyes are starting to well up with tears of exhaustion by the time the car arrives.