Vince is built like a doorframe, broad and rough, old enough to know exactly what he wants. Ray is leaner, sharp-jawed, with cold blue eyes that strip her bare with a single look. They could report her. Have her written up for trespassing.
Instead, Kayla makes a confession she's never said aloud—about the fantasies that keep her awake at night, about the rough hands and filthy mouths she's imagined in the dark, about wanting to be used by men who know what they're doing.
She's nineteen. Untouched. Never even been kissed.
Until tonight.
One whispered yes is all it takes. The door locks. The lights stay on. And two rough older men teach the shy, desperate freshman exactly what she was made for—again and again until dawn breaks over the empty halls.
She came in looking for quiet. She'll leave wrecked, marked, and already craving tomorrow night.
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