Chapter 10: Barmeyer et al., 2019

"As an alternative to centralized forms and instruments of information management, there are also informal and dialogic forms, such as the "coffee break" well known in Latin companies: employees come together spontaneously and thus contribute to "natural" internal fluid information circulation."

Barmeyer, C., Mayrhofer, U., & Würfl, K. (2019). Informal information flows in organizations: The role of the Italian coffee break. International Business Review, 28(4), 796–801. doi: 10.1016/j.ibusrev.2019.04.001

***

KAYDEN

Flirting with a student over the university email server is probably a really stupid idea.

Can't quite bring myself to care.

I sift a hand through my hair and exhale a heavy, tired breath, staring down at the papers that litter my desk.

Lots of reading about other people having sex.

Not actually having any sex.

My mind wanders automatically to the subject of an increasing number of my thoughts these days and something stirs in my gut.

The thing is, if I had a TA, maybe I could fuck her. But since I don't, I have to do all the grading by myself, assess in-class participation 'objectively'...

A process that would, inevitably, become more complicated if I buried my cock inside her, felt her pussy clench around me, sucked her dusky, peaked nipples into my mouth, listened to her breathless voice beg my name.

I can tell she wants me to be rough with her. Debauch her. Clutch her hair harshly in my fist and shove my dick into her mouth until her eyes start watering and her jaw aches and she gags, nearly chokes. Throw her onto her stomach and pin her to the mattress, grip her tight ass so hard it leaves marks and pound into her from behind like some kind of animal.

I'm sure I could indulge her.

So, I might have a mildly unhealthy obsession. My fantasies are becoming bolder everyday.

Not fantasizing. Brainstorming. Conducting research. A controlled, methodical exploration of sexual experience.

Fuck, how I'd love to experiment with her.

Gain insights into motivations, cognitions, and impulses behind different forms of sexual behaviour. Explore a range of deviant behaviours, dissect their psychological bases. Sadism, masochism, dominance, submission, bondage, voyeurism, exhibitionism. Reward and punishment, pleasure and pain. Comparisons to typical, vanilla experience. Observations of sex differences in behaviour.

Completely academic and scientific.

I shake my head, smirk darkly at myself. You sick fuck.

End of the semester, after the grades are submitted. That's when I'll allow myself to succumb to the temptation, scratch the itch.

Except fuck, I'm not a saint or a priest and there's no way I'm gonna survive until then just by jacking off in the shower in the morning.

But I have a feeling if I fucked someone else I'd just be thinking of her.

I press my eyes shut, groan tiredly, reach my arm back behind my head to stretch out my shoulder.

I need to focus. Research. Job. Work. Paying rent. Adulting.

Has its perks but is mostly really fucking overrated.

I decide to take a coffee break, stretch my legs. It's Monday afternoon and I still need to put in a few hours categorizing and classifying the pile of written testimony I've collected.

There's a Starbucks in the Interdisciplinary Sciences building next door. I shove my wallet and my cell into the back pockets of my jeans and make my way over there. It's early October and the air is a bit chilly, but, the sun's out and beats steadily against my skin as I trudge my way down the path between swaths of grass and bushes and brick buildings.

Everything seems calmer and more sluggish, an early afternoon lull, as I enter the building and stride across the colourful tiled floor to the coffee shop tucked against one of the walls.

Oh, you're fucking kidding me. Just my luck.

Her hair today is done up in a soft, loose bun that shows off the gentle slope of her neck. It's that same alluring oaky-brown colour, flecked with shining highlights. The building is modern, all glass and steel and exposed brick, and the floor-to-ceiling windows to the left of the Starbucks give a wide view of the main quad, sunlight streaming through.

As I come to stand beside her where she's waiting at the back of the line, my heart-rate speeds up and my blood thrums.

She turns towards me and the surprised but unmistakably pleased look on her face makes my lips tilt up into a crooked grin. I guess it's her lucky day too.

"Hi, Dr. Hall," she greets slowly, plainly, her rich brown eyes sparkling. She doesn't have her bag with her, just her wallet. She must be sitting somewhere close, left her things there.

"Layla." I give her a faint nod of acknowledgment, amusement twitching at the edge of my jaw. "What a coincidence."

"My thought exactly."

She's wearing a pale red, short-sleeved dress that falls mid-thigh, thin tights. Her bare arm just brushes mine as we shuffle forward with the line and I swear there's an electric buzz that shoots its way down my spine.

"How was your weekend?" I ask casually. I wonder if she relieved any of her sexual frustration, if she was thinking about me the same way I was thinking about her. If she fucked herself to thoughts of me on Saturday night like she implied she would in one of her messages.

A soft, noncommittal shrug. "Exceedingly uneventful." She meets my gaze for a second and I can see the gleam in her eyes. I have to suppress a small, knowing smirk. "Thanks again for recommending those articles. They were very helpful."

I can't help but quietly remark, benign but vaguely suggestive, "Perhaps not helpful enough, I imagine."

She bites into her bottom lip to stifle her smile and my focus is drawn to the plush curves of her mouth that are coated in a smooth, deeply-coloured layer of lipstick.

When was the last time I had a girl's lipstick streaked all over my dick? Shit, it's been too long to even remember.

"Mm," she agrees. "My studying was productive..." Her tongue flits out just for a second over her lower lip before she leisurely continues, "But... other endeavours less so."

No cure to the discontented ache between her legs, she means. Got it.

"I can relate." We sound completely normal, civil, casual, but there's a hidden, covert meaning beneath each sentence that only her and I are privy to. Get your head out of the gutter, Hall. I run a hand through my hair and decide to try for normal conversation. "How are you enjoying the course so far?"

"It's very interesting," she replies. Her voice is soft, sweet, but with a slightly throaty quality that I find undeniably sexy. "Certainly novel compared to my other classes."

I suddenly wonder if she's actually enjoying the material, if my lectures are engaging, or if her interest is mostly due to her attraction to me. "Do you find that the lecture content is comprehensive enough? I'm still refining the way I teach the course so I can make changes for future semesters."

"So far I think it's excellent." She seems genuine. "The material isn't too difficult to grasp but it does require some thought, which I can appreciate."

It's like she somehow knows exactly what I want to hear.

"No major issues, then?"

"No..." I can tell from the subtle mischief that lights up her face that her 'issues' might not be exactly related to the way I teach the course but rather... extraneous factors. She pauses, perhaps to debate whether or not to suggest something decidedly inappropriate, before softly venturing, "That being said..." She tucks some of the hair framing her face back distractedly. "I think I'd benefit from... a more hands-on learning approach to the course material?" My skin heats up and a wicked grin slowly curves up a corner of my mouth. Oh, she's clever but shameless and it drives me wild. She keeps a straight face. "For a more... thorough understanding."

Mm, I could be very thorough.

There's warmth coming off the curves of her body, she's standing close enough for me to get a whiff of her clean, sweet smell. There are only a couple people ahead of us now. The line is moving too fast.

"I understand completely," I reply, my voice lower, huskier. We both look forward innocuously, voices hushed. "Enhance your knowledge of the class content by... engaging more extensively with the material."

"Precisely."

"Your dedication to your studies is admirable, Mitchell," I praise dryly.

"I've always been very studious."

When I glance at her from the corner of my eyes, her cheeks are just a little flushed with heat and I find myself wondering if our innuendo is making her wet. Wonder if I slipped a hand beneath the light fabric of her dress towards the hot space between her toned thighs, her panties would be damp against the tips of my fingers.

Actually, I'd put money on it.

"Hey there," the barista greets, smoothing a hand over the front of her green apron. "What can I get for you?"

Layla gives her a polite smile. "Tall non-fat latte, please."

"Name for the cup?"

"Layla."

"On me," I murmur as she reaches for her wallet. "Grande pike, please. No room."

Layla pulls out her credit card and insists breezily, "I got this one." She gives me a tiny, bewitching smile and elaborates, "Still never made up for the time I ran into you in the stairwell."

Oh, yeah. The memory of her spilling hot coffee all over me a month ago flashes across my mind. Before she can insert her card I reach for the machine and tap mine against the screen, and our fingers brush together, and I have the sudden urge to clasp her hand with mine, maybe feel how smooth and soft those slender fingers of hers are against the flesh of my palm.

Dipshit. Since when do you hold hands?

Her fingers linger next to mine a beat before she pulls away. Something charged sparks for a moment in the air between us. "Thank you."

"No worries." I accept the steaming cup of coffee from the girl across the counter and can't resist the urge to taunt, "Just be careful. I didn't bring a spare shirt today."

She rolls her eyes and we wander away to the other side of the counter. I grab a plastic lid and snap it on while she waits for them to prepare her drink.

"You have class?" I ask. We take a few steps away from the bar, hover next to each other. Something invisible but palpable draws me to her and I'm lingering even though I should get back to work.

"In an hour or so. Just studying." She nods her head towards the string of chairs and couches and tables along the other side of the atrium.

We're canted just slightly towards each other and fuck, I want to pull her to me, feel the curves and swells of her body press against mine, the tickle of her warm breath fanning my face, the taste of her flooding my mouth. I'm craving it, desperate for it.

Her breaths seem quicker, shallower. Her upper arm and mine just touch, and the heat of her skin, the softness, the smoothness, causes the hairs on mine to rise, tingling.

"How's the research going?" she inquires, a hoarser tint to her voice.

"Slow but steady." I sip my coffee and relish the bitter burn as it slides down my throat.

Loaded silence thrums between us.

"How's your thesis coming along?"

"It's getting there."

"Tall skinny latte for Layla!"

She goes to pick up her order, stirs a pack of sugar in, while I shamelessly follow the line of her body as she stands with her back to me. The composed set of her shoulders, the arc of her spine, the rounded curve of her ass and the long, slender, lithe path of her legs. I'd like to trace every inch of her with my hands, my tongue.

My fascination with her makes me want to bang my head against a wall.

Or bang her, against a wall.

"Thanks again for the coffee," she breathes when she eventually floats back towards me, bringing the drink up to her mouth.

She watches me as her lips settle against the rim of her cup and I meet her eyes. My eyelids go a little hooded and a silent, intense moment passes where she's thinking about fucking me and I'm thinking about fucking her and we both admit to it with our gazes unwaveringly connected for a hot, brief, stolen second.

When the holidays come around and the semester ends and my class's grades are submitted to the department, I'll finally have my way with her and she isn't going to be able to walk for days.

***

A/N:

Any uni students from Edmonton in the crowd?

Happy Valentine's Day! ❤️ Best time of year to be reminded of the fact that I'm single as fuck... Any takers? 😋😉

XOXO Ami