~RYAN'S POV
ONE MINUTE THE ROOM IS SILENT, the next whistles whip the air. Catcalls and loud-enough smooching sounds smear the air as roving eyes fall on the female figure beyond.
...The new Professor.
I can't stop staring. I just can't. And it's not because my dick is hard as a brick.
As the echoes of horny college kids rumble through the room, my eyes devour her figure like my appetite just returned after months at sea. The Professor is hot as fuck.
"Damn!" A loud voice booms behind me.
Damn was right. But Fuck was even better. That's the only thing I can think of as I eye-fuck her. The worst part is I'm not even ashamed. Even if Jesus were here, I would still sneak a peek—or two. This blindingly sexy woman ticked all of my fucked-up boxes.
Sexy as sin... A bit older. Lusty eyes... Shapely figure. Drugging olive skin... And her legs in those red heels.
Christ on a cracker! If I didn't stop staring, my dick would rip my pants. My hard-on was so massive, I almost got off just by watching her.
There was also something about her. Something in the way she walked. It tickled the fringes of my mind; caressed over my thoughts. I knew I had seen her before. But where? You don't forget a woman like that.
Pushing aside my encroaching thoughts, I sit back and enjoy the view.
~. ~. ~.
"...and so, all Cleopatra had to do was lure Marcus to the assumption of an intrepid seduction," she finishes.
I look at her lovely figure standing before me in red heels and all I can think is sex. Hot wild tangling of lust-driven limbs. The woman before me—professor or not, was the kind of woman who made a man mad with lust.
I could already imagine all the ways she would feel in my hands. The way she would taste in my mouth.
I could imagine slipping my hands under that tight black skirt, cupping her soft ass as my fingers ran wild on her. She would moan and move on me, and her scent would tickle me. I also imagined the dark edge I knew she hid behind her prim attire.
Somehow, I could sense all she could give—and more. She would be open to other daring adventures; maybe another man or woman.
I knew beneath all her enticing allure that she was strong and fierce, brilliant and brave, with a mind as beautiful as her body.
I also knew that I was slowly becoming addicted to her huge stormy eyes. She was right for all the wrong reasons.
First, she was my Professor in a course I really needed to ace. Secondly, she was the kind of woman my dad should be dating; young and gorgeous. The remaining reasons were plain as day—literally.
From the tips of her honey-colored hair to her stretch of mesmerizing light-brown skin, there wasn't an inch of her flesh I didn't want to devour. When a woman called to you like that, you had to run, far, far away.
The Heartbreak could be devastating—tragic even. Like the case of today's lecture; poor Mark Antony.
I reluctantly pull my eyes away from her to focus on the tablet in front of me. I feel Melissa's eyes digging into my profile but I don't look. Giving her any hint could attract terrible consequences—for me.
So I glue my eyes to my screen, away from two pretty women that could destroy my world—in totally opposite ways.
The Professor's silky voice runs through my ears like sweeping water. I immediately swipe my screen to the lecture slides. Her name instantly peers back at me in bold black words.
DR. CASSELBA CRANE.
Her name was mysterious, just like her. I had heard of names with the letter C, but hers' was new; one could even say sexy. I don't even know I'm reciting it until a notification pings on my screen.
I slowly swipe down the glinting box and read the details.
It's about my art. Not the one I currently study. But the hidden sketches of a woman I had never met but was more real than the visions I saw with open eyes.
Suddenly, the wave hits me so hard I nearly black out.
I was her—the woman from my dreams. The woman with the mulatto skin and mysterious tattoos. My hot new Professor. No wonder she seems unreal, because I had only ever seen her in dreams.
Something didn't click though.
I shouldn't have dreams about strange women. Yet it seemed right. I had only read of such telepathic connections among a single specie. A species that weren't even human.
Suddenly, my professor became even more dangerous than she already was.
I look up from my screen with wide eyes and there she is. Her stormy gaze moves to me and she holds my stare—as if she knows. Or somehow feels my thoughts with me.
I immediately move to lower my eyes but not before I catch the slow spread of amber behind her round spectacles.