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eyes.
    “Are you telling me that you are like filthy rich?” Eloquence was the furthest thing from my mind.
    He looks at me, amused. “Well not filthy, just stinkin’.”
    I stare at the ceiling in silence. When I don’t say anything else he sits up.
    “What’s the problem? Most people here are fairly wealthy—look where you are,” he waves an absent hand. “You’re probably reasonably well off.”
    I think about that for a second. My family is not rich, comfortable definitely, but not we can buy a 3,000 square foot Manhattan apartment at the drop of a hat kind of comfortable.
    Or in his case Manhattan block.
    OK . So Damon is a billionaire.
    I’m not sure why I feel so strongly. I don’t even know in what way I feel strongly. Good? Bad? Cheap?
    No, none of the above. Just surprised that my first time was with Damon Wright.
    Kind of made for a memorable story now that I think about it…and I couldn’t complain about the experience.
    I sit up. Hugging my knees to my chest, more relaxed.
    “Tell me more,” I prod.
    The crease between his eyes relaxes. He smiles, “What do you want to know?”
    “Are you a senior? What’s your major? Where did you grow-up?”
    He chuckles.
    “I’m a junior. Economics. San Francisco, Portland, New York.”
    He looks at me with a knowing smirk, “And you dear Elle are a freshman, undeclared, and grew up in Silicon Valley.”
    How the hell did he know so much about me?
    “How did you…?”
    He stops me with a kiss.
    “Enough talking. Time for round two,” he manages between light kisses.
    Then he kisses me harder and the flames that had been temporarily sated begin to rise.
    Apparently, my body agreed with him.
     

CHAPTER 7 Billionaire Secret: Propositions at Mickey’s
     

I wake with a start.
    The string of lights are still on, casting their soft glow.
    Damon is asleep beside me, his arm draped across my stomach. He looks content. Peaceful. Like a male model sleeping.
    I look past him at the alarm clock on the nightstand between the bed and the window. 3:17AM.
    I’d been here for nearly five hours.
    My face splits into an involuntary schoolgirl grin as I remember last night.
    Rounds two and three .
    I move his arm carefully and stand.
    I stretch automatically, breathing life into my naked body.
    I’m exhausted, but I want to wake up in my own bed.
    My eyes survey the room. There are two doors on the same wall as the entry door.
    I try the first, a closet. The second middle door opens to a bathroom.
    Geez! He has an en suite in his dorm room?
    SE House was already considered to be one of the more plush Houses at The College, and The College had the most luxurious dorms of any of the Ivies, but this huge room with two walls full of beautiful leaded windows, a queen-sized bed, and now an en suite?
    The mirror reflects my naked torso from my belly button up.
    Do I look different?
    No.
    Do I feel different?
    Yes.
    I feel more…alive.
    I close my eyes and smile at all the experiences still to come.
    Ten minutes later I am dressed and back in my room at Winsor Hall.
    I had just removed my heels, when I hear my cell buzz.
    Lunch? -Damon
    How did he know my number?
    I smile like a girl with a secret. And then quickly examine my feelings.
    Am I pleased he wants to see me again?
    Yes.
    But I don’t want to feel too pleased. He was rich, gorgeous and probably a major player.
    Plus, I really, really don’t want to be one of those girls who falls in love with a guy just after having sex with him.
    I had no intention of limiting myself in any way—I was only two weeks into my freshman year of college, just getting started.
    Still…he was a mystery I wanted to solve, at least partially.
    And the thought of rounds four and five make my body sing.
    Sure. Time? -Elle
    He responds almost instantly.
    Mickey’s, 1PM
    I set my phone down and begin to undress.
    My body craves a shower, but I’m so exhausted. It would take forever to dry my hair. Energy I didn’t have.
    I would just