Page 56 of When Hearts Collide

Her thick, glorious hair is curled over her shoulders, a pensive pout on those sexy lips, her delicate brows furrow in concentration. Swaths of smooth skin lightly bronzed from the sun show around her simple white tank top, which clings to the heavy swells of her tits, her body seeming to have grown more luscious, her earlier innocence now laced with a heavy dose of feminine sensuality.

My imagination during the countless dark nights where I’ve taken my erection in my hand and indulged in fantasies of her, my cock having lost all interest in other women, does not remotely compare to reality.

The aching lust and want I’ve tethered away with my iron will come roaring back like a tsunami, attempting to obliterate the battered sea walls guarding my heart.

God, she takes my breath away.

My cock stirs in my pants, and I shove my hands into my pockets, hiding my clenched fingers and look away. Stay away. Your reputation. Tenure. The IPO. Fuck.

“Professor?” Millie’s sweet voice drags my attention back to her. I give her a curt nod. “Will you give us details of the case before we start the project? That’ll be helpful before we spend too much time on it.”

“Yes. You’ll receive your materials before you begin.”

She nods and follows up with another question. “As with all ethical dilemmas, interpreting the case and its conclusions are very subjective. How will you evaluate our performance? Especially if you may not agree with our assessment, which doesn’t mean the case isn’t completed to satisfaction?”

Gone is the tentative honeyed rasp of the wide-eyed sophomore in ULA. In her place is a woman on the cusp of taking the world by storm, the posture and cadence in her voice strong. If I thought the innocent coed was attractive before, this version of her threatens to undo me.

She’s a confident prey taunting a seasoned predator and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on.

“Great question.” A blond guy, someone who looks like he shows up to church every Sunday and plays bingo with seniors in his free time, stares at her with fucking hearts in his eyes. I want to grab him by his buttoned-up collar and toss him out of my classroom.

Shit.

“Everything will be listed in black and white in the instructions on the portal. Be patient.”

My words come out harsher than intended, and she stiffens before tilting her head up.

“Thank you, but with all due respect, Professor, not everything in this world is black and white. In fact, most of the world is gray. I just want to ensure the beholder of said grayness is impartial.”

Chloe, the girl next to Millie, nudges her sharply on her side, but Millie keeps her unwavering gaze on me, a hardened glint in her eyes. She’s daring me to call her out on her impertinence.

Blood rushes south to my stiffening cock, which is now at half-mast. I’m fucking glad I’m standing behind the damn podium.

Leaning forward on the sturdy surface, I keep my gaze pinned on her. In the past, she’d flush and waver. The pulse would throb against her throat like her body was waving a white flag.

But no, this Amazonian in front of me meets my stare head-on and instead of cowering, she sits up taller, thrusting those luscious tits out and cocking her damn brow.

My fingers twitch at the challenge in her eyes. My lips twist in a half-sneer. “Are you questioning my reputation and impartiality, Ms. Callahan?” I ask, my voice a hoarse rasp.

The room drops ten degrees as everyone swivels their heads toward the Siren in the front row. All we’re missing is the popcorn.

Chloe grabs Millie’s arm, but I barely notice, my attention affixed solely on the bane of my fucking existence before me.

“No, sir,” she murmurs, and the word, sir, out of her lips, her only sign of submission, has my dick roaring at full-mast, my body not registering how inappropriate my reactions are. “Of course not.” She feigns a demure smile.

I want to snarl, my entire body aching, throbbing, needing to grab her, to pull her against me so I can feel her soft curves flushed against mine, and growl in her ear, “Run, and don’t let me catch you.”

Fuck it all.

Apparently, my body believes the right time to think about women and Noire is in the middle of a fucking class with someone who is completely inappropriate in so many ways. Someone who has the power to carve out my heart and decimate it when she leaves, or when I destroy her, leaving me a shadow of a man like Dad and Maxwell after losing Mom and Sydney, respectively.

My mind clamors for rational thought—a person drowning, flailing his arms, and trying to grab onto anything.

The cheater. Fucking cheater. She’s the same, Ryland. The same. Don’t forget that.

My nostrils flare and I tug at my cuff links. “Questions from anyone else?” I bark into the relative darkness.

The room is still and quiet, so silent I could hear crickets if it were nighttime. My body is on fire, my mind a beast trying to tear at the chains binding it into civility.

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