I stifle a yawn and click my pen on and off in an attempt to stay awake. Usually I was eager and alert during AP Government and Politics—my favorite class—but it was the Monday after the fundraiser and I was exhausted. It doesn't help that this is my first class of the day and I haven't had the chance to properly awaken.

"And so, under the legislative branch we have the Senate and House of Representatives. The role of the Senate was created to check the popular elect House of Representatives, so that regardless of population each state is equally represented. States elect two senators that will serve six year terms. The Senate is given important powers under the advice and consent provisions of the Constitution. Ratification of all treaties require a two-thirds majority vote of senators present and a simple majority for approval of important public appointments, such as cabinet members, ambassadors, and justices of the Supreme Court. The Senate also settles impeachment proceedings initiated in the House of Representatives, a two-thirds majority being necessary for conviction."

As Mr. Miller drones on and on, I try my best to take notes but my eyes keep drooping and my hand will slip, messing up my writing. It's pointless anyway, I already know everything he's talking about and more. My dads a freaking lawyer for crying out loud. But since we're not that far into the school year yet, we're still at the beginning chapters of the textbook that explain the three branches of government.

I'm hoping Yale is a little more challenging than this.

Speaking of college, I pull out my laptop and open up my application. Right now I'm stuck on all the essay questions. It's not that they're hard or I can't answer them, it's that there's a freaking word limit. How am I supposed to answer 'what inspires you' in thirty-five words or fewer? It's impossible. I get so passionate I go way over the word limit, which frustrates me to no end.

My eyes skim over another question. Yale's residential colleges regularly host conversations with guests representing a wide range of experiences and accomplishments. What person, past or present, would you invite to speak? What question would you ask?

That's a tough one. There's so many people I could pick. Michelle Obama. Rosa Parks. Susan B. Anthony. Marie Curie. Queen Elizabeth. Amelia Earhart. Harriet Tubman. All important women who made a significant impact in history. How am I supposed to choose just one?

Next question.

By the time class is over I'm no closer to answering any of the questions as I was when class first started. Annoyed I shut my laptop and start packing up as students stream out of the classroom. As I'm walking out I text Winston.

Me: what inspires you?

Winston: ?

Me: ugh, never mind. I hate college applications

Winston: precisely why I never went

Me: it's too bad we don't all have a multi-billion dollar hotel chain to inherit

Winston: is that a hint of jealousy I detect?

Me: bite me

Winston: or you could come have a bite. With me.

Me: now I'm confused

Winston: come have lunch with me

Me: right now?

Winston: it's ten AM, of course not right now. When's your lunch?

Me: 12:15

Winston: perfect. Chinese or Thai?

Me: Thai for sure

Me: wait, where am I meeting you?

Winston: my office. I'll send you the details

A minute later I get a text with an address and who to ask for. Smiling, I memorize it before heading to my next class.

...

Woah.

I stare up at the fifty feet glass building. At least I think it's fifty feet. It may be more. Either way, it's huge. Hiking my bag over my shoulder I head inside.

The lobby is very clean cut and modern. The floors are shiny granite and the walls are pristine white with gold trim. Elegant yet tasteful sculptures along with tall potted plants decorate the space. Classical music plays quietly in the background. I walk over to the receptionist desk and she looks up from her computer.

"Good afternoon miss," she smiles brightly, teeth sparkling. "Welcome to King Hotels. How may I help you?"

"I'm here to see Winston."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"Okay. One moment," she picks up the phone and dials an extension, pressing the phone to her ear. "There's someone here to see you," she pulls the phone away from her and covers the receiver. "What's your name miss?"

"Kennedy."

She puts the phone back to her ear. "Kennedy. Yes. Mhm, mhm. Okay," she hangs up. "Tenth floor."

"Thank you."

She gives me one last smile before returning to her work. I make my way over to the elevators and press the up button. It dings, and three minutes later the elevator arrives.

When I reach the tenth floor I step out onto another glossy floor, this time black granite with dark blue walls. It's fairly busy, employees rushing around with huge stacks of paper and phones ringing. There's a huge desk in the center which I assume is the secretary's desk. Walking over I lean against the counter and wait for her to notice me.

"Can I help you?" She asks rather rudely when she finally looks up. I smile sweetly.

"Could you please point me in the direction of Winston's office?"

"Do you have an appointment?" She turns up her nose snootily. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"I already went through this downstairs but call him if you must."

She ignores me. "I'm sorry, but Winston is a very busy man. If you don't have an appointment I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I stare at her. She's pretty, with short brunette hair and sea blue eyes.

"Winston?" I raise an eyebrow. "Wow, he must be a pretty amazing boss to be on first name basis with all his employees."

She falters. "I-I meant Mr. King."

"Right..." I tap my fingernails against the smooth countertop and tilt my head at her. "Do you have a crush on him?"

She glares at me. "That's none of your business."

"Come on," I probe. "You can tell me. Girl to girl, I swear."

"If you don't leave right now I'll be forced to call security."

I sigh. So dramatic. A few options lay before me. I could be mean, but honestly I pity the girl. Unrequited love is a bitch. I could also be a diva and demand she point me to Winston's office, and if she doesn't listen throw a five star princess tantrum. But I don't want to do that either, nor is it my style.

I try another tactic. "Do you really want to upset him by not letting me in? Because I promise, he will be very upset with you."

That seems to cause her to rethink for a moment. I was patiently. Finally she huffs.

"Down the hall to the right."

"Thank you," I straighten.

"Whatever," she mutters under her breath as I walk away.

The farther down the hall I get, the quieter it becomes. When I make a right I come face to face with a pair of ornate black double doors. I don't know why but for some reason I get nervous. Taking a deep breath I knock.

"Come in."

His voice sends shivers down my spine as I push open a door. The first thing I'm met with is an incredible view of the New York City skyline from the floor to ceiling windows that make up an entire wall of the room. The room itself is large and sparse, with a bookshelf in the corner, filing cabinets in another corner, a wooden brown coffee table, two couches, and a huge desk by the windows where Winston sits. I swear, seeing him in a suit will never get old. Today it's black, with a crisp white shirt and black tie.

I stare at him for two more seconds before I realize someone else in the room. A man sits across Winston's desk, hunched over and looking contrite. He glances at me for a brief second before Winston's voice draws back his attention.

"Mr. Miagi, what is this?" He asks calmly, tapping on a folder in front of him. He's all business, so I stand in the corner quietly and watch.

"T-the profit and loss reports from the Queen of Hearts Hotel sir."

"That's correct. Now, care to explain to me why there's a huge missing chunk of money?"

The man sneaks a nervous peek at me. I shrug. How should I know the answer to that?

"Don't look at her," Winston commands. "Look at me. And answer my question."

"I-I don't know sir."

Winston leans back in his seat. "You don't know," he repeats and nods. Then he just stares expressionlessly at Mr. Miagi, and I swear I see a droplet of sweat roll down the poor mans forehead.

"I-I can go back and calculate the reports again," Mr. Miagi finally volunteers.

"No," Winston finally speaks. "This is what I want you to do. I want you to go back, I want you to find out how much is missing each month, I want you to trace back each loss, and I want you to make note of it. I want every. Single. Penny. Accounted. For. Not a cent missing. And if I even suspect that there's been some sort of foul play, you'll be out of a job. Is that clear Mr. Miagi?"

He gulps. "Perfectly sir."

"Good. You can see yourself out."

Mr. Miagi quickly grabs the folder and scurries out. I cluck my tongue.

"Harsh," I say, taking the seat Mr. Miagi just vacated. "I think the man might've peed his pants a little."

"Good. It'll serve as motivation for him to find out where my money went," Winston clears his desk of all papers before raising an eyebrow at me. "Doesn't your school have free dress code?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"So why do you always wear that uniform?"

I instinctively smooth down my pleated plaid skirt. "Because it gives me a sense of control. Besides, I don't have time to waste in the morning trying to pick out an outfit," I smile coyly. "Don't you like it? We could even role play. You could be the strict teacher and I could be the innocent schoolgirl. You could bend me over your desk and-"

"Don't finish that sentence unless you want it to become a reality," Winston interrupts. I give him a mock appalled look.

"Rude. I was going to say you could bend me over your desk and look over my shoulder to help me work out the problems I don't understand. What were you thinking? Pervert."

He smirks. "Sure you were."

I smile innocently. "Anyway I'm starved. So, where's the Thai?"

...

I don't know how he know it was my favorite, but Winston ordered Pad Thai for me and chicken curry for himself. He told me a little about work and we talked about random things while eating. I felt comfortable with him, like we could even sit in complete silence not saying anything but still enjoy the others presence. At one point that actually did happen, and while I ate quietly he clicked away on his computer.

When I was finished eating I threw away my garbage and went to look out the window. I'd love to have my own office one day in the future with a view this amazing. No matter how stressed I'd be, one look outside and I'd instantly calm. I imagined how pretty it would look like when it finally started to snow, and from there I began thinking about the holiday season. I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't notice Winston had snuck up behind me until I felt his fingertips running along my arm, causing goosebumps to come.

"What are you looking at?" He asks, snaking an arm around my waist.

"The view," I turn my head to look at him. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Not as beautiful as you."

I smirk. "Cute."

"I wasn't trying to be," Winston turns me around to face him and my smile falls away, heart picking up speed. His brushes a stray hair from my face, his gaze intense and I gulp, nervous but unable to break eye contact.

"I have another idea for role play," he murmurs. "How about you play the innocent but klutzy new secretary and I your tempting boss?" My breath catches as his lips press against mine.

It's different from the first time we kissed. Back then, I barely knew him. The kiss was amazing, but it was also sweet and gentle as we were still perfect strangers. Now, I don't hesitate in parting my mouth so his tongue can slip inside. I feel like I can't get enough of him, like I need to be closer. His lips leave mine, trailing hot kisses down my neck while he hoists me up like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around him and he carries me back to his desk. While he's still kissing my neck I turn my head and notice a ton of papers and other stuff on his desk.

"Wait, what about-"

Before I can finish my sentence Winston swipes everything off the desk besides his computer and sets me down. I bring his face back toward mine to kiss him again, rocking back and twining my arms around his neck to pull him forward. I feel his hand trailing up my skirt and I know I should stop him before we both reach a point of no return.

"Wait," I break the kiss, breathless from our heavy make out session. Biting my lip I ask, "Should we really be doing this in your office? What if an employee knocks or they hear something?"

Please say no, please say no...I don't think I have the power to resist if you don't.

"Kennedy..." he says in a low voice. I blow out a breath, the sound of his voice alone enough to make me wet. He trails a tantalizing finger down my thigh while staring at me. "Do you honestly think I give a fuck whether my employees hear us?"

Um yes! Because I do! Or do I...?

"Tell me to stop and I will," his hands continue their dangerous pathway up my leg. "Tell me you don't want this and I promise you, I won't go any further."

My heart is threatening to beat right through my ribcage and I'm afraid I might have a heart attack, go into cardiac arrest, or both.

"Don't stop," I whisper. He searches my eyes for confirmation and when he finds it, kisses me again, this time in a slower and erotic manner. I'm so focused on the kiss I don't even notice his fingers brushing against the edge of my panties, before pulling them down. When he slides a finger inside me I break the kiss, my head falling back in pleasure.

"Winston," I moan. I can't even control my own breathing at this point, it's all over the place as he slips another finger inside, then a third. He pumps his fingers in and out, slowly at first then gaining speed while circling my clit. I grind myself into his hand to create more friction as heat pools in my belly and I feel myself climbing higher and higher. Through my lust ridden gaze I make eye contact with Winston, whose brown eyes are so dark they almost resemble obsidian.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "I wish you could see yourself right now."

It's those words that send me over the edge and I come, biting my lip hard to silence myself. It feels like I'm both flying and falling, gliding and then tumbling down. At the end of it all I'm left a shaking, panting mess. As I'm trying to catch my breath I watch Winston remove his fingers and stick one into his mouth, tasting me.

"Sweet," he winks. "Like candy."

...