Page 52 of Hate To Love You

Ryker grabs my discarded clothes and hands them to me. I take them, quickly pulling them on and giving Ryker a shy smile.

He smiles softly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Come back to my place?” he asks.

Something tells me to flee. To go home and forget this even happened. But my god, the look on Ryker’s face has my inhibitions out the window. Except, we really do need to finish this project. The presentation is tomorrow, and we haven’t practiced what we’re going to say.

But right now, looking at him with desire in his eyes, I don’t even care. As much as I hate to admit this, I want more of Ryker Steele.

Chapter 29

Ryker

I’ve never claimed to be a saint.

That would be complete bullshit. I know I’m not the kind of guy moms like or dads accept. I know what people say about me around campus. I’ve heard the comments from both guys and girls, although none of it is ever to my face.

People are afraid of me. They don’t want to piss me off in fear of my last name and what it means to this university. My father has gotten many professors fired for stupid things like giving me bad grades or speaking to me wrong. The kind of pull he has at Ellington is astounding. And everyone knows that.

No one questions me, women throw themselves at me, and all that should make me feel good. Shouldn’t it?

So I don’t understand the empty pit in my stomach that is there every single day, and it never goes away.

Except when I’m with her. Guinevere Sharpe. The feisty five four brunette with those bright blue eyes and a natural affinity to pissing me the fuck off.

Gwen is unlike any woman I’ve ever met.

She’s spirited, independent, and unafraid to speak her mind. She’s bold, assertive, and confident, with a strong sense of self and a willingness to stand up for what she believes in.

I knew she was attractive the day she ran into me in the hallway. Her petite frame, the way her tits looked in the blouse, the way her jeans highlighted her toned legs and round ass underneath. She caught my attention immediately, and I knew she was far different than the rest of them.

I know she thinks I’m an asshole. I know she thinks I’m this terrible person that she should stay far away from. And maybe I am. But I know I can’t stay away from her, and I’m done trying. Fuck what anyone else will say.

Now that I’ve had a taste of Gwen, I’m not letting her go. No matter what she says. I know she’ll fight it, she’s as stubborn as a mule. She’ll never truly accept her feelings, but I am going to make it so damn difficult for her to get away.

She finally gave into me today. Gave into the feelings I knew she was having and failing to fight. She really shouldn’t try to fight this connection between us, because I’m determined now to keep her, and I always get what I want.

Gwen, my beautiful, perfect rebel, sits on my bed, watching me as I lock my door behind me. No one’s home, and I’ve never been more thankful to have the floor to myself. The things I’m going to do to Gwen, the way she’s going to be screaming my name, I don’t want anyone else to hear her moans of pleasure.

Guinevere Sharpe is mine, even if she doesn’t know it yet. But she will soon enough. And when this project is over, she’ll know that isn’t the end of us, it’s only the beginning.

Her legs hang off the end of the bed, and I can’t help but think about the way my face was just between them, savouring the taste of her delicious pussy. God, she tasted good. I could do that all day if she’d let me.

The strap of her green Ellington U tank top has fallen slightly down her arm, and her long, espresso coloured hair falls against her back as her eyes, like deep blue pools, stare at me as I walk toward her, landing between her legs.

I reach down, putting my finger under her chin, gently bringing her head up to look at me. Her eyes are filled with lust and desire, and my cock twitches knowing it’s all for me.

Gwen might be strong and hardheaded, but I’ve already gathered that she isn’t that way in the bedroom, which is perfect for me because I am a control freak.

Many of the women I’ve been with haven’t been able to handle that side of me, but something tells me that my little rebel isn’t going to mind one bit.

My heart is racing, and my breathing is shallow. I’m pretty sure I’m actually fucking nervous right now. I don’t get nervous for sex, ever. But looking down at this girl who I never even thought would be a possibility sitting in front of me, wanting me, I don’t even recognize myself.

The air crackles with anticipation and excitement. It’s been weeks of this pent-up anger and tension and desire, and we’re finally about to act on it.

“Take your shirt off,” I demand. Gwen watches my face for a long second before reaching down to grab the hem of her shirt, pulling it off over her head.

I keep my face neutral as I take in that lacey bra covering those perfectly peeked nipples of hers that I so enjoyed not twenty minutes ago.

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