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So you say. Is your class full of young horny women?
Why would you ask that?
I went to college, too. Hot male professors have plenty of female students.
You think I’m hot? I have no interest in my students.
I rolled my eyes, angry that I revealed my hand. I did think Austin was hot, but I didn’t want him to know my feelings. I have to go. A conference call awaits.
Coffee this week or I wait at your office until you consent.
Fine. Coffee this week. Maybe Wednesday depending on my schedule.
My belly clenched as I walked back to my office, and I thought about spending time in bed with Austin. Of course, I had told him that we would only be friends, but now that I had a taste of what I’d been missing for the past four years, I didn’t want it to end. It didn’t hurt that he had a big cock and knew how to satisfy me many times over.
I was on a cloud when I sat down in my chair. I stood staring at my laptop for a few minutes before the buzzer sounded.
“Yes, Marina?”
“Francis Rodriguez is on the line. He says it’s urgent.”
Francis was the director of our new movie, Building Credibility. He was working on reshoots at the moment.
“Put him through.”
I picked up the red flashing line, “Francis, what’s the matter?”
“Why would you think anything was the matter?”
I drummed my nails on the desk. “You wouldn’t be calling and saying it’s urgent if there wasn’t.”
“True, but there’s nothing wrong. I just wanted to alert you that the reshoots are complete and we’re below budget.”
“Bravo. You finished early and below cost. That’s what I like to hear.”
I was back in ice queen mode, but it’s what gave me the upper hand. The minute I showed any kindness, they would walk all over me. I wasn’t about to let that happen.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as we complete editing.”
“Fine. Thank you.”
I hung up before he could say anything else. I know it was rude, but it’s how I kept my edge. I’m sure he was cursing me out on the other end.
I wiped the sweat that was leaking into my eyes as I continued to run on the treadmill. Two weeks without working out had taken its toll, and I was gulping air like it was candy. My trainer, Jay Garvey, a former MMA champion, scowled at me.
“Did you do anything while you were away?”
“Swim and snorkel.”
“Any cardio? You’re sucking air like a vacuum.”
The only cardio I did was large amounts of sex.
“No cardio. I have to stop,” I panted.
“I bet you do.”
Jay reached over, and instead of lowering the incline and speed of the treadmill, he raised it.
