Page 129 of Hate To Love You

Ryker shrugs. “Same.”

My brows pull together as curiosity and suspicion course through me.

The door to Professor Whitely’s office flies open, and our heads snap to the short woman with her signature black pencil skirt and blouse that shows off way too much cleavage for a college professor standing in the doorway with a wide grin.

“I thought I heard you two out here. Come in,” she says, gesturing inside her office. We do as we’re told, taking a seat in each of the chairs in front of her desk. I get a feeling of déjà vu as I watch Professor Whitely sit across from us.

She pushes her red rimmed glasses over the bridge of her nose before leaning forward and placing her forearms on her desk. She looks between both of us, and anticipation creeps in.

“So, you’re probably wondering why you’re both here. Well, let’s get down to it,” she says, clearing her throat before continuing. “I want you both to be my TA’s this semester,” she states. My eyes widen.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Both of us?” Ryker muses. Professor Whitely nods.

“Both of you. You work so well together, and I think it would be more productive to have both of you instead of one or the other,” she explains with a with a smile. “My classes get quite large, and I’d need you both to help grade, answer questions, and walk around during class to help students. Do you think you can do that?”

Ryker and I exchange a wary glance, but I know we’re both thinking the same thing.

“Yes,” we say in unison.

Professor Whitely smiles widely. “Wonderful! I’ll send you both an email with all of the things you’ll need, and you can start with my first class tomorrow morning. I made sure you both had no classes at that time, so you’ll be all good to come.”

She hands us each a binder full of papers and explains a bit more about what we’ll be doing before dismissing us.

An hour later, Ryker and I lie on my bed. I’m cuddled up at his side as his finger gently traces over my back.

It’s weird, all that anger and betrayal I felt just yesterday has completely faded away, and love and admiration have taken their place. I was fully prepared to start the semester off depressed and avoiding Ryker at all costs.

But here we are, naked and intertwined with each other.

“Are you ready to spend the rest of the semester with me?” Ryker probes, his voice hoarse and teasing. I pick my head up off of his chest to look him in the eyes.

“Definitely,” I say in a sultry tone as I nip his earlobe. His hand moves into my hair, pulling me away from his neck. His eyes dance with warning, and my thighs clench.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, little Rebel.”

He did just make me come three times, and my body is spent, but I’d do anything for this man to make him feel good.

I move down his body slowly until my face is hovering above his dick, which is already hard. Peaking up at him through my lashes, I drag my tongue up his length slowly, swirling it around the head while I watch Ryker’s head fall back with a groan. A smirk plays on my lips, knowing this is driving him wild.

Doing it again, I bring my hand down to cup his balls and squeeze lightly. He looks down at me with a dark expression.

“Don’t be a brat, Guinevere. Suck my fucking cock like the good girl I know you can be,” he demands in a deep, dominating tone. Shit, how does he do that? How can he make me wet without even touching me?

I begin to suck and twirl my tongue around him, his pants and grunts making me move faster. His hands weave into my hair as he moves my head, forcing me to watch him.

“Look at me while you take my dick in your mouth,” he orders, and I do as he says, watching him as my head bobs up and down.

He begins to thrust into my mouth faster and harder, and within a few minutes, a hot stream of come slides down my throat. When he pulls out, he pulls me up, pressing his lips to mine.

“You are perfect, little Rebel,” he tells me, his eyes searching mine. “I love you.”

My heart flutters and I can’t help the stupid grin that crosses my face. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing him tell me he loves me.

A few months ago, I wasn’t sure if true love actually existed, no matter how much I wanted to believe it did.

I wanted a love like in the books I read. With men who love their woman unconditionally, irrevocably, completely. Men who look at them like they’re the moon and the stars.

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