by Lana Hartley
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?
Krista
Walking out of my last class of the day, I feel confident but drained. All I can think about is how I’m in desperate need of a bath in my tub when I get home so I can soak and touch myself while picturing the three guys going down on me.
I’m hustling out the auditorium classroom door when I hear Professor Finnigan calling my name...yet again.
Is he following me around today or something? It just seems like an awfully big coincidence that he seems to be everywhere I am.
I turn around and put on an eager face. “Hi again,” I greet.
“Hi, Ms. Abernathy,” he says, sounding a little winded; he’s panting as if he’s been running to catch up to me for quite some time.
“I just finished up my last class of the day.” I smile with exuberance.
“That’s wonderful. I hope you find that you’re enjoying your studies even though it’s only the first day,” he replies with a chuckle.
With a nod, I smile at him. “Yes, absolutely. So far, so good.”
“Well, I have a little proposition for you,” he tells me, but unless it involves a gigantic glass of Merlot to accompany me in the tub, I’m sure I won’t be interested in what he has to offer.
“Sure, anything.” I smile at him because I have no other choice.
We move to the side, by the wall, to give other people easier access as they try to skirt through the hallways, dodging through the crowds as classes dismiss.
Professor Finnigan sighs. “Well, as you probably already know, this morning, you did not get an opportunity to meet everyone because we were all pressed for time.”
I nod in response. “Yes, of course, there are tons people to meet here.”
“Are you free right now?” Finnigan asks me.
Not really, but I can’t exactly admit that to him right now.
“Sure,” I chime with polite enthusiasm.
When we get back to the faculty room, this time, I notice there are refreshments. Not the alcoholic type that I need right now, but I admire the university’s efforts to supply their staff with snacks.
I also notice something else in the room: King, Dylan, and Simon are all standing in a little herd, a trio of magic and sexual perfection.
Damn, I’m so goddamn attracted to all three of them.
Why?
I don’t understand it. I’ve never branched out to this type of behavior in my life. Before coming to the city, I would never even think of participating in a threesome, much less a foursome.
And yet here I am, trying not to visibly swoon over their handsome features as my eyes are drawn in like a magnet to the bulges in their pants.
I realize I’m treading on dangerous waters here. Obviously, in reality, I can’t pull off—or even explore—any type of relationship with any of the three of the guys.
There’s no way around this land mine: they’re forbidden territory.
Fuck, this makes me want to have them all to myself even more. In my head, I’m whining and pouting, praying that nobody notices the current battle of good-versus-evil happening i
n my brain right now.
“Hi.” I wave, standing awkwardly beside them.
“Hi,” Simon, the dark-haired and most studious-looking one, greets me with a devilishly handsome smile. He’s wearing glasses that make my panties melt.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to remember the fact that, in the rules and regulations of my contract, I have a code of conduct to uphold here. In the clause, it specifically states that I’m not allowed to engage in any sort of romantic relationship with a coworker.
If I dare break these boundaries, it’s grounds for termination—and I most definitely don’t want to walk that path. I need to conform to the wishes of my contract and back off the guys.
It’s going to be extremely difficult, but I have strong willpower, and I believe in myself.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Abernathy.”
I turn around and notice that one of the tenured, senior professors is standing right beside me. He smells like moth balls, and he’s wearing a suede jacket. His silver hair is thinning on the top but still prominent on the sides.
“Please, call me Krista.” I smile and pump my hand with his in greeting. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Professor Thompson.”
“Krista,” he begins, bouncing on his heels. “Thank you for joining our graduate program. We’re happy to have you as part of the team.”
“It’s a true honor,” I state with pride.
This guy is the one to impress, if anything.
I suddenly remember the trio of hunks standing on the other side of me, and my cheeks flush with uncontrollable desire.
Shit, I’m having worlds of difficulty concentrating on anything with them in the room, and I can feel them staring through me, probably undressing me with their bedroom eyes.
I decide not to look directly at them, for fear that they’ll make me cave to my emotions. I’m already deliriously tired as it is, and I would most likely be willing to fuck a lamppost if it came on to me.
Professor Thompson breaks my ridiculous concentration and startles me back to the present—where I need to aim to be at all times from now on.
“I am very eager to hear your pitch and approach for research that you want to bring to the table.” He obliges me with a grin.
“Oh, yes, of course,” I state with a burst of gusto. “I’m quite thrilled.”
“So, tell us,” he starts, “what do you plan to do with your time here at the university? I trust that you intend to use it wisely?”
I don’t know this guy well enough to determine whether he’s being patronizing or not, but as I look toward Simon, Dylan, and King, I notice that I’m being extraordinarily scrutinized. I mean, no big deal; I can power through this beeline round of questioning.
I’m here, after all, to do the research in the first place, so I don’t know why I’m floundering all of a sudden...in front of my intended target.
I take a deep breath, knowing that I’ll be fed to the sharks if I don’t at least pretend to exude even a trickle of self-confidence here.
Suddenly, various other staff members approach us to talk about my research, and I find my mind snowballing with potential ideas.
This is what I’m here for—I’m passionate about changing the way the mines operate not only back at home, but all around the continental United States, as well.
I’m in my zone, in my element as more people gather around me. I’m not entirely sure they’re here to listen to me discuss my research goals or if they’re only standing next to me because they want to get close to the seasoned, legendary Professor Thompson.
Either way, I take it as prime real estate, the best opportunity I’ll probably ever have, to pitch my ideas to anyone with ears to listen.
After a few more minutes, I scan the little group gathering around me and decide to go out on a limb here.
Clearing my throat, I address the general population of the room, noticing that the three guys are still front and center, listening with fervent interest in my subject.
“Is there anyone here who might be willing—or have experience in the field of my research—who I could turn to and reach out for help?”
I stare at everyone, waiting for a response and praying for the best. If they ignore me or laugh in my face, I can always go home and drink two bottles of Merlot, not the one I already plan on gulping down in a few swallows.
“Simon, King, and Dylan are particularly savvy at that trade.” A man nods his head in their direction.
Oh.
Of fucking course they are.
Is this really happening?
What kind of game is fate playing with me right now? Surely, this is a dream, and I’ll wake up soon, still on the farm.
“Really?” I ask, grinning at each of them in turn.
“Yes, actually, we know exactly what you’re talking about and are extremely familiar already with your chosen research field.” King, the gorgeous blond-haired, blue-eyed hunk of meat winks at me.
Seriously, he looks like he just stepped off an Abercrombie advertisement, and instead of being on the NYU staff for research, he should actually be in a surfing tournament in Hawaii.
“That’s great.” I grin, all while reminding myself not to gawk at his gorgeous face.
Seriously? ‘That’s great’ is the only response I can come up with here? What the hell is wrong with me today?
This is not the first time I’m talking to a cute guy. I mean, Brandon is cute and all—just an emotionally crippled jerk-face. My point is: I already at least have had some practice enough that I don’t look like a basket case in front of cute guys.
And yet here I am.
But after glancing at them, they look like they’re taking it all in stride and I should probably stop internally freaking out.
I can’t help myself. What can I say? I take any opportunity I can to become an emotional mess.
“Well, it seems as if you have your plan in place.” I glance at Professor Thompson and note that his eyes are narrowing in on me, like he wants to digest me. His current demeanor makes me slightly uncomfortable, but I decide to shrug it off because he has been nice to me so far.
“I’m very happy to be a part of the research team at NYU,” I state politely. “Please forgive me, but I need to go now. It was lovely to finally meet you all.”
I bid everyone a friendly goodbye and book it the hell out of there. I’m excited to start my work, but at the same time, I need to reenergize for the next round as I do it all over again tomorrow. Especially if it’s going to mean close quarters with these three men.
Krista
“I can’t thank you guys enough, seriously.”
I glance at the three guys and smile gratefully at them.
“For what?” King chuckles lightly as he dares to place a tender hand on my shoulder in public.
My reaction is to melt inside and form into a puddle of desire. Hopefully, they won’t notice because I’m apparently a fucking weakling when it comes to wearing my heart on my sleeve.
“You know.” I grin and bite my lip. “For agreeing to show me around the university a little. I would totally be lost without you guys. I have like…zero friends here.”
I laugh pathetically.
“That’s not true. You have us,” Simon says with sincere compassion.
He’s not wearing his glasses today, but he’s still remarkably handsome.
“Not to mention, you have a bubbly personality. I’m sure you’ll make friends with other students and professors in no time,” Dylan, the shy, brown-haired one adds.
“I hope you’re right.”
I pout and lean against the counter in the faculty room.
“Of course we’re right,” King, the overly confident and cocky one, teases. “We also have brains in our heads. We aren’t just eye candy.”
“You sound like a Dr. Seuss rhyme, dude,” Simon laughs.
“Fuck you,” King jokes, but I know he’s being playful, because he’s smiling, taking it all in stride.
/> “So, what are we going to see first?” I ask them, because I’m thoroughly interested in the tour they promised to bring me on today, now that my classes are completed for the day.
I’m honestly having the best time with the three of them, and I find myself daydreaming about being reunited with them every time we’re apart.
This, of course, scares me in massive ways, because the last thing I need is to become attached to three men I barely know.
On the other hand, I feel as if I’ve known them for years…
Fuck.
“We would absolutely love to show you around our top-ranking research facility, envied by all the other universities in the area.”
I look at Dylan, who might be one step away from bursting open with pride just by the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about his respective field.
“You guys aren’t just fucking with me?” I just have to ask.
“What do you mean?” Simon frowns.
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Why are you so willing to help me?”
“Are you kidding? We live for this stuff!” Dylan exclaims.
God, he’s so cute. If I could run over to him and squeeze him, I would, but I’m not sure that would be appropriate on—or off—school grounds.
“Well, then, by all means, please lead the way.”
I gesture for the guys to head out in front of me as I gaze at them. My eye wanders to their juicy, tight asses as I follow them through the hallways and rooms they take me to.
“So, how long have you guys worked here?” I ask as we stop in front of a laboratory that Dylan mentions I might use on a weekly basis.
“I’ve been here six years,” Simon answers.
“Me, well, I have four years under my belt,” King nods.
“As for me, I’ve been here the longest. Eight crazy years.” Dylan says and then tips his head down.
“How old are you guys?” I blurt out, although I’m instantly embarrassed. What kind of person asks another person a question like that?
“We should be asking you the same thing,” King grins with playfulness.
“I’m twenty-four,” I state nonchalantly.
